The Class of 2000

Well, in the absence of any decent copy around here, and as a distraction from my work on the Cert Min file...

A couple of 6th form students from the school I taught in for a year have left comments on the blog asking for a contribution to their leavers' Year Book.

Not quite feeling like Mr Chips, beyond "best wishes from Mr Lloyd", I was a bit stumped. I'm afraid I've not included Two Ways To Live, but I did get them all to write it in their exercise books at the time. Perhaps you can suggest improvements on what follows:

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Dear James & James,

Thanks for your comments on my blog. You show the kind of persistence that my year at the school suggested is typical of Westcliff Boy! :)

I don't think I actually taught either of you, did I? Your names are vagualey familiar, but I must admit that the names of some of my students were only vaguely familiar too!

I'm sure you'll end up with an excellent year book. Perhaps you'd send me a copy when its done?

A broad grin spreads accross my face as I think back to that now far-off-seeming year at Westcliff.

The Year 8 boy is a paradoxical creature but your year group, and indeed the school as a whole, seemed brimming with enthusiasm (for some things!) and talent and I'm sure you've flourished into civilised human beings.

You may recall that my lessons where not always unmitigated centres of industry or marked by unbroken clam, but I remember, for example, the school play and sportsday revealing that even the most delinquent Religious Studies pupils were capable of their own juvenile greatness.

As far as comments for the year book, words fail me: which never seemed to be a problem for you lot. Spelling, punctuation, grammar and homework, yes, but words, no: they could always be muttered to your neighbour or called out as I attempted to wax lyrical about the life of Our Lord!

What could I say about the class of 2000? A couple of names and a few more faces have stuck with me. No longer stuck to my dartboard. But it would be unfair to pick out any particular individuals, for an after school detention, perhaps; and sadly I'm no longer in a position to get the whole class back together at lunchtime to practice being quiet or entering a room, though that wasn't always entirely successful at the time.

I certainly remember some tallented conversationalist in Year 8 and some spirited discussion, sometimes even of matters related to RE.

I also taught PSE to a year 8 class as well and I remember a number of ambitious students who will no doubt go on to great things. I look forward to stumbling accross your names in the Telegraph as I breakfast in the Vicarage in my dottage, and I trust it wont always be in association with some international crime syndicate.

I'm grateful for this opportunity to wish you all well as many of you begin to explore more of life beyond Southend.

Not sure exactly what tone of comments you were after but perhaps something of the above might be editable into something that would suit you?

I would be grateful if you could email me back with an exact version of what you plan to include in the year book, if anything, before going ahead? You could always suggest a form of words and I could tell you whether or not that's what I wanted to say!

Yours,

Marc