VITA | Michaelmas Term 2021

Reflections on GRIEF AND HOPE

BECOMING INTELLECTUALLY FEARLESS OUR SPACES AFFECT LEARNING

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Ed’s Welcome

Welcome to the Michaelmas 2021 edition of VITA, our termly magazine celebrating the richness and depth of St John’s life.

In this edition, we welcome one of our Old Johannians, the ViceChancellor and Principal of the University of Johannesburg, Professor Tshilidzi Marwala, who reflects on the enduring value of humanism and the liberal arts degree. We celebrate the exceptional contribution from Kate Byrne, who left St John's at the end of last year after 40 years of inspirational service as a teacher, Head of French, and Head of Sixth Form. We pay tribute to a great South African and courageous human, Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Mpilo Tutu, who is acutely missed.

We also profile several exceptional Old Johannians, including genre-bending artist Nthato Mokgata, new Guinness World Record holder Henry Cock, and the author and public intellectual Sizwe Mpofu-Walsh.

Read our Headmaster of St John's Preparatory, Lester Lalla’s consideration of the relationship between built spaces and pedagogy in the context of the recently constructed Prep buildings; a celebration of the power of storytelling in a thoughtful article by author and St John's English and Drama teacher, Dr Craig Higginson; Fr Thapelo Masemola’s reflections on the relationship between grief and hope; and Thulani Khanyile’s recollections of his time as a student at St John’s during the height of Apartheid.

Vita is your magazine, and we are always looking to share with our community the stories of Johannians, old and new. If you have any letters, news, memories or stories, please be in touch.

Wishing you all the best for a healthy and happy 2022.

Send your contributions, comments and thoughts to me at communications@stjohnscollege.co.za

I look forward to hearing from you.

THE RISE AND RISE OF THE LIBERAL ARTS DEGREE

In 1980, Steven Ozment wrote The Age of Reform 12501550. As he put it, “Scholars have argued that without humanism the Reformation could not have succeeded, and it is certainly difficult to imagine the Reformation occurring without the knowledge of languages, the critical handling of sources, the satirical attacks on clerics and scholastics, and the new national feeling that a generation of humanists provided. On the other hand, the longterm success of the humanists owed something to the Reformation.”

Perhaps just as ubiquitous and everlasting as most classical debates are the argument of whether the liberal arts or the sciences are better. The two have long been pitted against each other.

Though seemingly a parochial concept in 2021, the battle between the two still rages on, with the liberal arts usually - and alarmingly - dismissed as an unworthy contender. The greatest personification of this debate was in 2011 when Microsoft co-founder Bill Gates told a panel of American governors that a liberal arts education would hold back college graduates in the modern economy. As he explained, the focus should be on disciplines that produce the most jobs, and liberal arts degrees don’t correlate well with job creation. A few days later, late Apple co-founder Steve Jobs rebutted this at the unveiling of the iPad with, “It’s technology married with liberal arts, married with the humanities, that yields us the result that makes our heart sing.” What is telling is that now, a decade later, Microsoft has seen the merit in Jobs’ argument and called for more liberal arts majors in tech.

Even as I walk down the corridors of my own university, I am usually met with discussions on the validity of one degree over another. Liberal arts degrees are erroneously dismissed as easy and a fallback for those who could not hack it in the sciences. There is a misinformed notion that the sciences imply superiority.

A cursory glance at my own academic history might have you convinced of my position on the matter. To this, I would remark, you’ve got it all wrong. Though I am an engineer

and a scientist, this debate has long puzzled me. In recent years, much of my writing has been through both lenses. I have understood the changes of the 21st century ranging from climate change to the fourth industrial revolution (4IR) and even the pandemic from a scientific point of view but, significantly, also from political, philosophical and historical texts I likely would not have encountered in my own degrees. I have drawn conclusions about the economy and our modes of production from writers such as Adam Smith, David Ricardo and Karl Marx. I have dissected the recent unrest in South Africa through accounts of the French Revolution, and I have understood artificial intelligence (AI) algorithms through poetry. It is evident to me that understanding the world around us is not as clear cut as memorising hundreds of theorems or devising complex equations as the focus on the sciences will have you believe.

In a 2016 piece for Forbes, Willard Dix astutely asserted, “Dedicated to the free and open pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, a liberal arts education provides a multifaceted view of the world.” He goes on to explain, “It bends toward openness instead of containment.” If the sciences are a way to understand the world, surely it is logical that we also embrace the arts, which remind us once again of the importance of our humanity and how we perceive the world. The American mythologist, writer and lecturer, Joseph Campbell, perhaps best known for exploring the human experience, once said, “The goal of life is rapture. Art is the way we experience it. Art is the transforming experience.”

This extends beyond sentiment. The arts are a fundamental tool to consider multiple viewpoints, challenge our predisposed notions and become intellectually fearless. Beyond this is an expression of ourselves, an emotional response, a mode of communication and a tool for educating. A misnomer is that as we begin to adapt to the changes brought about by the 4IR, the sciences will be the only key to staying relevant. This certainly is not the case. In his 2010 book Linchpin: Are You Indispensable?, Seth Godin wrote, “The competitive advantages the marketplace demands is someone more human, connected, and mature.

“The arts are a fundamental tool to consider multiple viewpoints, challenge our predisposed notions and become intellectually fearless.”

Someone with passion and energy, capable of seeing things as they are and negotiating multiple priorities as she makes useful decisions without angst. Flexible in the face of change, resilient in the face of confusion. All of these attributes are choices, not talents, and all of them are available to you.” I would interpret Godin’s words as a clarion call for us all to embrace the arts.

As we are immersed further into this era of automation, and the integration of machines into our lives and the workplace takes a greater hold, the skills needed are critical thinking and communication skills - which are most prevalent in the arts. Last year, in response to one of my articles asserting that the 4IR is here and that we cannot afford to ignore it, Professor Salim Badat rebutted, “4IR is viewed as an entirely scientific and technological matter, not as a social or human matter.” To the surprise of many, I was in complete agreement with this perspective. The 4IR is just that, it is a human matter. It is only through the arts that we can begin to understand just how pervasive, deep and disruptive the impact of 4IR is on society. In particular, Professor Badat’s messaging on the importance of the humanities alongside science and technology, and for hard questions on what is the new normal to be posed, was just.

Perhaps a great definer for the 21st century and our current context should be the dismantling of debates that pit these fields against each other. The false superiority complex that some in the sciences hold must be challenged. If we are truly to address our most deep-seated challenges and tackle polarising issues such as climate change, economic inequality and race relations, for instance, we must

recognise the merit of the arts in doing so. As Denham Sutcliffe wrote in his seminal work What Shall We Defend?: Essays And Addresses in 1973, “Liberal learning is that which underlies, that which gives purpose and direction to practical skills. It tries to distinguish between the more and the less important, between the grand and the trivial, and to concern itself rather with the center than with the periphery.” It is only through these seemingly differing but complementary lenses that we can realise the promise of our future.

A world of blue

For millions of years, there was little to distinguish our pre-human ancestors from other animals. But, at some point, parts of our pre-human brains started to develop. We started being able to make tools out of sticks and stones. We started making noises and signs through which to communicate. We picked up a burned twig, or dipped our fingers into fresh blood, and we drew an image on a wall. We started to make a rhythmic noise, with drums or our own bodies and voices, that seemed to bring us closer together, and we started to use our voices in order to sing.

Out of that noise, out of those first songs, came the first words, the first abstract sounds, which were used to connect with some ‘thing’ outside of us - a rock, a stick, a child, a friend, an enemy - and then, perhaps a bit later, a fear, or a thing that was desired, or a thing that was dreamed, believed or imagined.

Out of language came stories, and out of stories came myths - myths that would, in time, unite a wide range of communities in a common belief system. The people in those different communities might never even have met, but they each drew their sense of selves from those stories, those myths, that they all shared in common. They were united through language and stories and the magic spells that language and stories can weave.

It is through these collective narratives that people started being able to communicate across time and space. We started to be able to tell stories about those who had come before. Their lives could be carried inside our stories. Not only their deeds, but their experience, their knowledge, their ideas and beliefs. We started to draw our identities from those who had come before. And we started to tell our children these stories - so that our lives and the lives of those who came before us could be carried forward into the future.

Narratives that are used to define us are still just as vital to our survival these days as they ever were before. We still use them to communicate, to commune with one another, to form communities. We draw these narratives from religion, Hollywood movies, songs we like, stories about our ancestors. We draw defining narratives from our friends, our school, our community, our country.

We have narratives that connect us and narratives that divide us. Sometimes, we can choose which narratives we use to define us. We can choose narratives of hope or despair, of regeneration or doom. Often the narratives we choose indicate a great deal about who we are - as collectives and as individuals. Narratives still have the power to shape our identities and our experience of the world. With a good story, we can create one reality and bury another. With a good story, we can try to find the truth or conceal the truth. How we use or abuse stories tells us a great deal about who we are – even if we are often not aware of it.

I believe that every human being on this planet is a storyteller. We are each the narrators of our own lives. Every single one of us, in fact, is a writer - and the task of living is to write a story for yourself and for those around you that you will one day be able to look back on and be proud of. The quality of our lives and the quality of the lives of those around us will depend directly on the quality of the stories we tell - the stories we write through our intentions and our actions.

Whatever we choose to do in our lives, we will be using language. We will be using language to convince others to invest in our ideas, to explain a situation so that something decisive can be done about it, to tell those we love what we think and feel, what we hope for and what we fear.

When I left school, I studied Fine Art for a couple of years at university. I remember at the end of our second year there was a student who had done all of his paintings in different shades of blue. The lecturer asked him why he had made this particular decision. The student asked the lecturer what she meant. His paintings were not painted in shades of blue. He was using all the colours in the palette. The student was at the end of his second year of a fine art degree and it was only then that he - and the rest of uslearned that he was colour blind.

What struck me about this incident was that the student did not know he was colour blind. He thought he was using all the colours available in the world. I think using language is a bit like this. We can only communicate the blues if all we can name are the blues. That means we will only be able to express one strand of our possibilities as a

human being - all those other strands that make up white light but can be divided by a prism into all the colours of the rainbow - all those other strands of colour will never be available to us.

This is why it is important that we use language in a way that is particular, and alive to the present and the needs of the present. It is why cliché - and all other kinds of pre-formulated, pre-established thinking - are so dead, so deadening, so numb to the world. If we want to name what is present to us in the present, we need fresh language, particular language. Fresh language glistens in the light like wet paint – and it uses all the colours from the palette that it needs to most fully express itself.

So - if each of us is a writer, if each of us is a storyteller, if each of us is the narrator of our own lives, what words will we use? We have tens of thousands of words to choose from. What picture - or series of pictures - will we choose for ourselves to move towards?

We are unique amongst the animals in the world. We have this gift for storytelling. It has brought out the best in us and it has brought out the worst in us. We have created myths of racial difference, of national difference, of gendered difference, that have led to all sorts of oppression and other abuses of power.

But think also of the counter-narratives, the narratives that open up the world and the possibilities of the world. Narratives that yearn towards connection. Narratives that bring the realities of others alive in such a way that we start to care from places we never thought we would care from.

We write and we read to stretch ourselves - to move from the already-known, the already-established, towards the not-yet-known, the not-yet-established.

I think we need to think about our own narratives for our own lives like this. We need to imagine a version of ourselves that seems very far away - like a distant sun. It is by stretching ourselves towards that light that we will really start to grow, and change the shape of ourselves, and outgrow the little patch of earth that our circumstances have allotted to us.

We will have many stories about ourselves as we go along through life. Some of these stories will outlive us and have consequences in the world that we would never have imagined. Different stories will compete for our attention.

There will be some we are afraid of, and might try to hide from - we must be careful of these stories, because they might come back to bite us. There will be other stories that might seem to benefit us, but to the detriment of others –we must be careful of these stories too, because, apart from anything else, they too will come back to bite us.

Somehow, the challenge of living is to allow a wide range of stories to co-exist - stories about ourselves, stories about others. That is what it is like to live in a healthy democracy.

In the end, the only thing we have any control over are those stories that we tell ourselves and we tell others. But that is a huge thing. It is an immense gift. We are each sitting here, in a world that seems surrounded by difficulties, by challenges. Sometimes, these stories feel overwhelming. They can render us powerless, numb, shamed and often enraged. While we cannot and should not ever try to hide from them, we must also be careful of letting them define us.

Always, we need to be able to find that little space to step back, and regain our ancestral sunlight, and adjust the prism of ourselves to that light – so that all the wonder of the world, and all its amazing colours, remain available to us - and those around us. The last thing we want for anyone is to live only in a world of blue.

This is an abridged version of a speech Craig Higginson delivered during “Book Week” at Michaelhouse in July 2021. Craig teaches English and Drama at St John’s College. His most recent published novel was The Book of Gifts (Picador Africa).

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WITH WITS, YOUR FUTURE IS BRIGHT

A tribute to MADAME BYRNE

Kate Byrne was appointed to the academic staff in 1982 by Headmaster Jan Breitenbach. Little did he know that this fresh-faced young Englishwoman straight out of university would go on to become one of the great teachers in the illustrious history of St John’s College. Miss Gordon, as Kate was then, had come out to visit her parents, who had emigrated to South Africa. She had impressive academic credentials, with an Honours degree from London and an MA from Grenoble. The lack of a teaching diploma did not deter Mr Breitenbach, and nor did Kate’s lack of experience.

Within six months of her arrival, Kate found herself running the French Department, a position she has held with distinction for 40 years. Dr Richard Hawley, former Headmaster of University School, Cleveland, talks about the romance of boys’ schools which goes far beyond the measurable data. It is the data of stories: ordinary stories, the stories we tell, the stories we write, the stories we listen to and watch.

Kate Byrne’s classroom has been a place of such stories for 40 years. There are women teachers in boys’ schools who are celebrated and loved by their pupils. Their classrooms are safe havens for boys to simply be themselves. The French class is a space where boys can talk about competitiveness, about bullying, about empowerment and identity. They enter the classroom and the often-intimidating hierarchal environment outside disappears for the 50-minute lesson. The classroom crackles with energy and becomes a charged space. The boys are not there under duress, and the teacher derives enormous pleasure from the teaching and learning. Kate loves her teaching and “her French boys”. In a ‘woke’ world it is too easy to dismiss the importance of the relational side of teaching, but teaching is always about relations between teacher and student.

Boys, especially, work for teachers and not subjects. Kate’s French class has always had students of mixed abilities and it is a tribute to her expertise that a significant number of boys opt to take French every year. The French results are invariably good, but far more importantly, the boys come out of Madame Byrne’s class with a love for the language and culture of France. Discipline has never been an issue in Madame Byrne’s class, even in those early days dealing with somewhat feral Lower IVs. Kate’s secret is to have high expectations of all her pupils and to treat them in an adult fashion. The boys, and the Sixth Form French students, know and appreciate this.

Under the headship of Robert Clarence, the Sixth Form continued to grow and reached 96 students in 1997. The Headmaster, well aware that the school needed to start appointing women into senior positions, appointed Kate as the Assistant Director to Director Lindsay Owen. In 2002, Kate took over as Head, and the Sixth Form, situated in Runge House, has gone from strength to strength, reaching a peak of 126 students in 2016.

The Sixth Form has often been on the receiving end of criticism, particularly from the senior boys in the College, who believe that the Sixth Formers are allowed different standards of discipline with regards to dress and general decorum. Kate has been a voice of reason and has allowed the co-educational students a certain amount of tolerance, whilst making sure that the Sixth Form remains an integral part of the College.

As headmaster of the College, I appreciated Kate’s ability to deal with Sixth Form issues within the boundaries of Runge House. Her interaction with both parents and students has always been thoroughly professional, courteous but straightforward. Her calm manner has defused many potentially explosive issues, as has her steely determination, intelligence and quick wit.

As a member of the College executive, Kate has often been a voice of sanity, reason and wisdom. Her advice, coupled with her understanding of the culture of St John’s and its students, has often averted matters that were escalating. She has great common sense and an ability to look at things from many perspectives.

Over the years there have been numerous approaches from head-hunters asking Kate to consider taking up the headship of various illustrious girls’ schools. Kate has considered these for a brief moment, but has always decided that her loyalty and love of St John’s trumps the kudos of being a head teacher somewhere else. Her service to St John’s has been quite extraordinary as an inspirational teacher, the head of the Sixth Form, and as a delightful colleague. One of the core characteristics of great schools is a core of long-serving staff, and St John’s College has been fortunate to have had many such teachers who understand “the way we do things around here”. No one is indispensable, but Madame Byrne’s departure from the College and Sixth Form will leave a void.

We wish Kate every blessing and much happiness as she leaves St John’s. She can leave knowing that she has left a legacy of excellence, care and commitment and in doing so, has enriched the lives of many Johannians.

Letters

Thank you for VITA, it is a lovely read and a great communication.

My father left in 1932 and was in the 1st rugby team in 1932 - the year the College switched to rugby. He was also in the 1st soccer team I think in the same year. He had a signed photo of the rugby team - I donated it to the school and it now hangs on the wall in the OJ Pub. My uncle was also there as well as my nephew.

Deane Yates was the headmaster while I was at school from 1960 to 1964. I got to know him well as he asked me to support his legacy project, The Alexandra Education Committee - I have been responsible for the finance for AEC for many years and sit on the Council.

He was famous for steel caps on his shoe heels that made a distinctive sound - I did ask him why and his reply was to warn the boys of his approach so that if they were smoking or whatever, they could quickly get rid of the evidence.

Keep up the good work!

Tom and Florence Fawdry

(Revd Tom Fawdry taught at St John's College from 1973 until 2003. Florence Fawdry taught at the Pre-Prep from 1974 until 2004)

Thank you very much for one of the best magazines we have received since retiring in 2003 and 2004. Our thank you comes with our prayers for all at St John’s College and the wonderful St John’s family that we still feel very much a part of.

John Woodhouse (Thomson, 1963)

The 1963 leavers in the UK meet every year around May for a dinner. We could not meet in 2020 and my wife Liz suggested that we tried a Zoom in 2021. Paul ‘Fuzzy’ Britton and I set about contacting everybody on our email lists and the response was good although a bit muted.

Some say so many on one Zoom call will not work. With Chich Hewitt’s help, we set up a Zoom with a breakout room facility. In the end, it was not used as it was so interesting to hear what people had to say. Some, like John Weehuizen, I had not seen since I left school in 1963 despite two well-attended reunions since then! John Fulton joined us from Canada. For the benefit of those in Australia and New Zealand for whom 5pm in the UK was in the middle of the night, I recorded the whole session.

We began with the school prayer and the reading of the names of the deceased from our year, which sadly gets longer every time. I also asked for updates and photos and circulated those.

There was some discussion about the 60th reunion in 2023 with some of us very clearly stating that we would not be travelling to South Africa so perhaps a Zoom or hybrid event might work.

Everybody appreciated the event and next time we do this, I will take a screenshot!

I often think how fortunate I am to have such good friends who I first met when I was 6!

John Hepner (Hill, 1961)

I received the Trinity issue of VITA yesterday. I congratulate you on a superb production - well done! I left St John’s at the end of 1961 and it’s a great pity that we’ve been unable to arrange a 60th-anniversary reunion this year.

Tribute

ARCHBISHOP EMERITUS DESMOND MPILO TUTU (1931 - 2021)

St John’s College notes with great sadness, and with a profound sense of loss, the death of Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu. The College is proud of its association with the late Archbishop, who stands in the first rank of the pantheon of South Africa’s greatest sons and daughters.

Over several decades, Archbishop Tutu was, with justification, regarded as the moral conscience of our nation – a man who courageously resisted apartheid injustices and who consistently spoke truth unto power. We take this opportunity to pay tribute to him and to express our gratitude for the invaluable contributions he made to St John’s College and to South African society.

The association between the late Archbishop Tutu and St John’s College finds its origins in their mutual links with the Community of the Resurrection. The Community of the Resurrection, a monastic order of Church of England priests and lay brothers, initially sent some of its members to Johannesburg in 1903 to undertake mission work among African workers employed on the gold mines. The Community soon expanded its presence on the Witwatersrand and became involved in a range of other social projects. In particular, the Community took charge of the Sophiatown Native Mission and St Cyprian’s School (established by our founder, the Rev John Darragh), which was attached to that mission. In 1904, the Community established St Peter’s Theological College in Rosettenville as a seminary for training aspirant black Anglican clergymen. In 1906, the Community took charge of St John’s College. In 1908, the Community started St Agnes’ School for black African girls in Rosettenville. This was followed by the establishment of St Peter’s School for boys, also in Rosettenville, in 1922. It was the only secondary boarding school for black Africans in the Transvaal.

Born at Klerksdorp on 7 October 1931, Desmond Tutu and his family lived in Sophiatown in the 1940s. There he came into contact with some of the brethren of the Community of the Resurrection, who ran the Anglican parish in Sophiatown. They included Fr Raymond Raynes

CR (who had previously taught at St John’s College) and Fr (later Archbishop) Trevor Huddleston CR.

In 1947, when he was fifteen years old, Desmond Tutu was diagnosed with tuberculosis. The CR fathers arranged for him to receive treatment at Rietfontein hospital, on the eastern outskirts of Johannesburg, where he remained for 21 months. During this confinement, he received regular visits from Fr Huddleston, to whom he made his confessions, and from Fr Dominic Whitnall CR, who brought him books to read.

In the 1950s, the late Archbishop Tutu studied at St Peter’s Theological College in Rosettenville, which was run by the Community of the Resurrection. He was ordained as an Anglican minister at St Mary’s Cathedral, Johannesburg, in December 1960.

In 1962, Fr Aelred Stubbs CR arranged for Archbishop Tutu to pursue further studies in theology at King’s College London. (Fr Stubbs was the principal of St Peter’s College, and represented the Community of the Resurrection on the Council of St John’s College in the 1970s.) Archbishop Tutu obtained an MA degree from King’s College London in 1966. He then became the Anglican chaplain at the University of Fort Hare, a position he held from 1967 to 1969. In 1970, he became a lecturer and chaplain at the University of Botswana, Lesotho & Swaziland at Roma in Lesotho.

In August 1975, Archbishop Tutu was appointed Dean of St Mary’s Cathedral, Johannesburg. St John’s College had originally, in 1898, been established as a parish school of St Mary’s Church. As the Anglican diocesan college for boys in Johannesburg, St John’s College retained close links to St Mary’s Cathedral, where the school still holds its annual Carol Service.

In May 1976, Archbishop Tutu (then Dean of Johannesburg) came to St John’s College for a five-day silent retreat. During this retreat he wrote a poignant and

prophetic letter to Prime Minister John Vorster, in which he expressed his concerns about apartheid repression and its implications for the future of our country:

“I write to you, sir, because, like you, I am deeply committed to real reconciliation with justice for all and to peaceful change to a more just and open South African society in which the wonderful riches and wealth of our country will be shared more equitably. I write to you, sir, to say … that the security of our country ultimately depends not on military strength and a security police being given more and more draconian power to do virtually as they please without being accountable to the courts of our land ... . How long can a people, do you think, bear such blatant injustice and suffering? Much of the white community by and large, with all its prosperity, its privilege, its beautiful homes, its servants, its leisure, is hag-ridden with a fear and a sense of insecurity ... . And this will continue to be the case until South Africans of all races are free. Freedom, sir, is indivisible. The whites in this land will not be free until all sections of our community are genuinely free ... . We need one another and blacks have tried to assure whites that they don't want to drive them into the sea. How long can they go on giving these assurances and have them thrown back in their faces with contempt? ...

I am writing to you, sir, because I have a growing nightmarish fear that unless something drastic is done very soon then bloodshed and violence are going to happen in South Africa almost inevitably. A people can take only so much and no more ... A people made desperate by despair and injustice and oppression will use desperate means. I am frightened, dreadfully frightened, that we may soon reach a point of no return, when events will generate a momentum of their own, when nothing will stop their reaching a bloody denouement which is “too ghastly to contemplate” to quote your words, sir ... . But we blacks are exceedingly patient and peace-loving. We are aware that politics is the art of the possible. We cannot expect you to move so far in advance of your voters that you alienate their support ... . We are ready to accept some meaningful signs which would demonstrate that you and your government and all whites really mean business when you say you want peaceful change ... . I believe firmly that your leadership is quite unassailable and that you have been given virtually a blank cheque by the white electorate and you have little to fear from a so-called right-wing backlash ... . For if the things which I suggest are not done soon, a rapidly deteriorating situation arrested, then there will be no rightwing to fear - there will be nothing ...”

Prime Minister Vorster ignored Archbishop Tutu’s letter. A few weeks later, on 16 June 1976, the Soweto uprising broke out. Shortly afterwards, in August 1976, Archbishop

Tutu was installed as Bishop of Lesotho. In September 1977, he spoke at the funeral of the Black Consciousness leader Steve Biko, who had died as a result of injuries sustained from assaults while in police custody. In 1978, Archbishop Tutu was appointed general secretary of the South African Council of Churches. In this capacity, he became an increasingly prominent critic of the apartheid regime. He advocated non-violent means of protest and encouraged the enforcement of economic sanctions against the regime. In August 1983, he was elected one of the patrons of the United Democratic Front, which was at the forefront of the mass democratic movement’s antiapartheid struggle. In December 1984, he received the Nobel Peace Prize in recognition of the significant work he was doing to promote a peaceful transition to a more just and open society in South Africa.

In February 1985, Archbishop Tutu was enthroned as Bishop of Johannesburg. The Headmaster of St John’s College, Mr Walter Macfarlane, attended the enthronement ceremony at St Mary’s Cathedral. In his capacity as Bishop of Johannesburg, Archbishop Tutu became the Visitor of St John’s College – the highest position in the College’s institutional hierarchy. Many in the (predominantly white) St John’s community were apprehensive about having a Visitor with such a high political profile. Many white South Africans regarded him with suspicion and even animosity. Mr Macfarlane invited Bishop Tutu to come and spend a day at St John’s. By the end of the day, his warmth, humanity and sense of humour had endeared him to all. Soon he was a much-loved and greatly respected Visitor.

In February 1986, Archbishop Tutu was awarded the Martin Luther King Jr Peace Prize. He was enthroned as Archbishop of Cape Town at St George’s Cathedral in September 1986. He was the first black man to be elevated to this position, which he held until June 1996. In this capacity, he was head of the Church of the Province of South Africa. Upon his retirement from this position, Archbishop Tutu was awarded the Order for Meritorious Service (South Africa’s highest honour) by President Nelson Mandela.

In 1996 he became the first recipient of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Award for Outstanding Service to the Anglican Communion. He was chairman of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission from April 1996 until October 1998.

In 2003, Archbishop Tutu and ex-President Mandela attended the opening of the Desmond & Leah Tutu

Bridge linking St John’s College and Roedean School. Archbishop Tutu was also the guest of honour on Gaudy Day in 2005 and, on that occasion, was the celebrant at the community mass on Mitchell Field. In his homily, he inspired the College community, in his inimitable manner, to redouble efforts to assist the needy. ‘God,’ he said, ‘is not going to make Big Macs and Levi’s rain down from heaven to feed the hungry and clothe the poor. He relies on us to step up and be his agents.’ More recently, Archbishop Tutu’s great-nephew, Ekow Daniels, attended St John’s College.

In 2018, St John’s College requested Archbishop Emeritus Tutu’s permission to rename Gate House Quadrangle (colloquially known as Clarke Quad) after him in recognition of the link between him, the Community of the Resurrection and St John’s College; the fact that he wrote his important letter to Prime Minister Vorster while he was at St John’s College in May 1976; the fact that he was ex officio Visitor to St John’s College in 1985 – 1986; the fact that he was one of the most prominent opponents of the apartheid regime in the 1970s and 1980s, bravely taking a stand against an evil and brutal system; and his work as chairman of the TRC.

Archbishop Tutu kindly acceded to the College’s request, and described the naming of the quadrangle after him as “a great honour by an institution I have admired for a long time.” A bronze bust of Archbishop Tutu, capturing his fatherly smile, was installed in Tutu Quadrangle in 2019. He subsequently gave us a pair of his shoes, which were bronzed and installed in the quadrangle in such a way that viewers of the bust can put their feet in his shoes while reflecting on his great life and his contribution to humanity.

Our nation is greatly diminished by the death of Archbishop Emeritus Tutu. We shall remember him fondly and with pride, and hope that current and future generations of Johannians will find inspiration in the manner in which he upheld the principles and values held dear by our College community. He deserves to be held up to us all as the epitome of virtue, integrity, compassion and heroism. He personified Lux Vita Caritas.

Principal sources: The Johannian; T Huddleston Naught for Your Comfort (1956); A Wilkinson The Community of the Resurrection (1992); D Tutu No Future Without Forgiveness (1999); OM Suberg The Anglican Tradition in South Africa (1999); J Allen Desmond Tutu: Rabble-Rouser for Peace (2006); SD Gish Desmond Tutu: A Biography (2004); Encyclopaedia Britannica

Obituaries

Anthony Wayne Babb

(12 JUL 1939 - 19 APR 2021)

Luke Simpson

(3 APR 1981 - 20 AUG 2021)

It is with great sadness that we inform you of the passing Luke Simpson on the 20th of August 2021 after a brief and courageous struggle with cancer.

Luke was an English teacher at St John’s College. He joined St John’s from Pinelands High School in Cape Town in May 2015 and taught across all forms in the College. He was also a tutor to the current Alston House matric group.

He established a good rapport with his students and cared deeply about those in his English classes and tutorial group. His last message to his tutorial group was on the day before he passed, when he encouraged them all to get

the wind and got athletics colours and a first class matric. At the Wanderers he ran the 100m in 10.5 secs. He was deft with his hands and made furniture for his homes. We shall miss his 6’2” frame. - Glenn Babb (Thomson 1960 / Sixth Form 1961)

Luke was a fiercely private person. A passionate Old Parktonian with a great love of African literature, he was always seeking out new and exciting texts for his students. Luke was the editor of the Scribbler, a collection of student essays, poetry and artworks, and began the staff book club, where The Promise by the 2021 Booker Prize winner, Damon Galgut, and An Island by long-listed Booker author Karen Jennings were this holiday’s reading.

He was the manager and coach of Club 56, the fifth and sixth rugby teams, when we could still play sport. He loved swimming, taking to the pool during his free periods. He had also taken over the running of the President’s Award.

As a colleague, Luke had a quirky personality and a wry sense of humour. His fondness for a meal at Burger King to mark the end of the term will be remembered. Determined to continue to play a fully functioning role in the English Department, he endured his chemotherapy with quiet resilience and made sure he was back in the classroom as quickly as possible.

Luke was not an effusive man, but his love for his wife and boys was very evident.

We hold his wife Lynn and their three boys Owen, Finn and Ethan, in our hearts and prayers as they mourn the loss of their beloved husband and father at this sad time.

Early in his school career Martin earned the nickname “Tubby”, and most people knew him by that name throughout his life. He excelled at playing hockey, earned his colours at school and went on to play for the University of Pretoria First Team while undertaking his Veterinary Science degree. Later, he played for the Harlequin’s Club and took part in several Master’s Tournaments over the years.

Martin completed his studies at Onderstepoort in 1963, and married Annette Nienaber at St Luke’s Church in Orchards. In 1964 he started employment at the small animal practice of Dr Walter Liebenguth on Corlett Drive, Melrose, and he spent several years doing house calls in his little blue Morris Mini Minor Station Wagon. Martin and Annette produced two children, Iain and Elsbeth, and they moved to Durban where Martin joined the veterinary practice of Amos and Clow.

Annette suffered stroke in 1969 and Martin changed careers to devote more time to his family. He joined the Durban Corporation as principal veterinary meat hygiene officer at the Durban abattoir and later, as State Veterinarian and regional meat hygiene officer, he was responsible for establishing a new abattoir at Cato Ridge. He followed up his Bachelor of Veterinary Science with a Diploma in Veterinary Public Health, and later obtained his Masters in Veterinary Medicine, specialising in Hygiene. Annette passed away in 1996. Martin met Ena Daniel who was to become his long-term partner and more recently his second wife. Unfortunately, Martin lost his daughter to cancer in 2020.

Career wise, Martin had moved back upcountry and had become full Professor and Head of the Department of Veterinary Public Health at the Onderstepoort Veterinary Faculty and later, Head of the Department of Animal and Community Health. He received many awards and citations for his contribution to the profession.

Martin ‘Tubby’ Veary was born in Johannesburg, the first son of Courtney and Barbara Veary. He began his education at St Mary’s School in Waverley, which in those days admitted boys to the kindergarten class only. The next year he followed the Veary tradition of attending St John’s by entering the Lower 1 class, and he stayed at St John’s until completing 6th Form in 1957.

Martin and Ena moved to Amber Ridge in Howick and although Martin’s health was not good in recent years, they spent many happy years together until his passing in June 2021.

Courtney Martin (Tubby) Veary will long be remembered by many people from all walks of life.

A PLACE TO BELONG A SPACE TO GROW

A world-class Christian, African school

GOLDEN EAGLE AWARD WINNERS Men of principle and action

The Golden Eagle Award, introduced in 2004 by the Old Johannian Association in partnership with St John’s College, celebrates the extraordinary impact Old Johannians have made in South Africa and abroad. The award acknowledges the remarkable contributions by Old Johannians who have “made a difference” in their community, industry, area of life or field of study, and have been valued ambassadors of the St John’s values, Lux, Vita, Caritas.

Thisyear we are proud to announce that the Golden Eagle Award goes to two exceptional and deserving Old Johannians,

supported hundreds of boys and staff over the years, many of whom would find a deep solace and strength in his faith, rapport and humble care.

At the beginning of the Second World War, shortly after his ordination, Father JP enlisted as an army chaplain and served in North Africa. There are many stories of his courage, principled actions and devoted service to his fellow soldiers, often with no regard for his own safety, reminiscent of Father Eustace Hill.

Father JP joined St John’s College in 1946 as school chaplain. The apartheid years brought some remarkable people to the fore within the St John’s community. Those, like Father JP, who were ready to stand up for their faith and their beliefs. Throughout his ministry at St John’s he was devoted and fastidious in his care of the Chapels and in ensuring the dignity and reverence of each expression of liturgical worship he led for the St John’s community.

Father JP was renowned for his great faith and unconventional, but outstanding, pastoral gifts and was loved by boys and staff alike. He was approachable, generous, good humoured, understanding and devoted in his chaplain ministry. His ‘open house’ welcomed and

His Divinity classes could verge on the anarchic, with many impromptu dramatisations and engaging dialogues that both delighted and instructed the boys in their faith. He is well remembered for taking boys to visit the communities of Soweto and Sophiatown, which they had never experienced before. Many boys left the school enlightened by his teaching, mentoring and life-force, with their eyes more fully opened to the society in which they lived. A colleague of Father JP says: “JP was an unforgettable presence in my life at St John’s. He was a remarkable man and unique in living his life, humbly. Everybody loved JP and his indelible mark remains on all of us.”

Father JP retired from St John’s College in 1966 and continued his ministry at the Cathedral Church of Saint Mary the Virgin in Johannesburg. Father JP died at home on Ash Wednesday in 1982. Those who knew him well believe that he gave St John’s College the most fruitful and profound years of his ministry.

The Golden Eagle Award is presented to Father JP for his faith-filled, challenging and loving service to the boys, staff and families of St John’s. The ethos of selfless service to others, encapsulated in the college motto, Lux Vita Caritas, is evident in all that he did for the St John’s community. We are honoured to have Father JP as our Golden Eagle Award recipient for 2021.

DES LINDBERG

Desmond Charles Lindberg

Lower III, completing his Matric in the College in 1958 followed by Sixth Form in 1959. He went on to graduate from the University of the Witwatersrand with a BA in English, isiZulu and African Politics where, already gaining popularity as a folk singer, he met his beloved Dawn.

Des and Dawn Lindberg made a unique and significant contribution to the performing arts throughout their partnership and marriage. For years, as 20th-century troubadours, Des and Dawn toured South Africa and neighbouring countries with their particular brand of folk music. As a duo, they had a string of hits and albums over the years, most famously The Seagull’s Name Was Nelson which was first released in 1971. The lyrics were a disguised lament for Nelson Mandela, then imprisoned on Robben Island. Des is particularly proud to have won a SARI award for his song Die Gezoem Van Die Bye. He attributes his achievement to the fine Afrikaans teaching he received from the legendary St John’s teacher Maxie Burger.

Des and Dawn later branched out into the world of theatre, seeking a way to leverage the cultural arts to challenge the emerging and crippling apartheid strictures. In 1973, they obtained the rights to the provocative and spellbinding Broadway musical Godspell, which was the first mixed-race professional production of a Broadway-style musical to play publicly in South Africa. Veteran cultural administrator, Ismail Mahomed, said that this Godspell production was not only a principled and revolutionary protest against the apartheid state, but also against the complicit church.

With their success, the Lindbergs invested in several barrier-breaking and celebrated productions over the years as well as more than 800 of their legendary Sunday-night soirées, which took place at their gracious Houghton home. The soirées showcased the brilliant diversity of South African musicians, poets and entertainers in front of live audiences in South Africa’s darkest hours. Those who performed included Abigail Kubeka, Hugh Masekela, Johnny Clegg, Sipho Mchunu, the Soweto String Quartet, Oswald Mtshali and John Kani.

Dawn was instrumental in founding the Naledi Theatre Awards in 2004. The Naledis recognise and reward excellence in the performing arts and raise awareness of the abundant talent on South Africa’s stages. Des and Dawn worked tirelessly in the cultural and performing arts worlds. They fervently believed that the rich diversity of the artists with whom they worked reflected the emerging, vibrant and collaborative South African society they were helping to build.

The story of Des and Dawn is a thoroughly South African story, which unfolded against a backdrop of political turbulence, national unrest, international sanctions and the most challenging, often hostile, environment for artists.

For a decade Des served as Vice Chairman of the NGO, Promat Colleges and Trust, which addressed racial inequality in the South African education system.

Dawn passed away from Covid in December 2020, leaving a gaping hole in Des’ life. He is finalising a memoir of the 55-year journey they shared - Every day is an Opening Night. “Our story,” he says, “is a joyful one, and we share it as a celebration of life.”

His grandson Shia is a student in St John’s Prep and his granddaughter Zaria is at St Mary’s.

The Golden Eagle is presented to Des Lindberg for devoting his life, his marriage, his music and his steadfast belief in our nation’s artistic talents to courageously paint a better, bolder and more just landscape for us to inherit and enjoy. The ethos of selfless service to others, encapsulated in the college motto, Lux Vita Caritas, is evident in all he does. We are honoured to have Des Lindbergh as our Golden Eagle Award recipient for 2021.

The Golden Eagle Awards 2021

GRIEF & HOPE A Theological Reflection

The opening lines of the funeral oration by the Duke of Bedford in Shakespeare’s Henry VI, capture, to some degree, the depth of the grief imposed on those who survive the death of someone close to them. As we experience the grief associated with loss, we see not the glory of our beautiful clear blue sky, but our day is turned to darkest night. We see no beautiful fluff on the clouds that decorate the sky, instead comets and asteroids of chaos and calamity. There is no beauty in the shining stars of night, they appear gawdy; how dare the cosmos throw us such a blow, how dare the universe will us such tragedy?

Covid introduced us to the world as we wish to not have known it. Gone are the days where social media was abuzz with just good news and excitement. We have seen, too often, tributes and messages of condolence to various bereaved families or persons. We have become socially anxious as we access various social media platforms and see photographs of people we know, the knee-jerk reaction is to begin typing the phrase ‘oh no,’ in anticipation of reading the caption worded ‘RIP.’

Very much like the disciples after the crucifixion of Christ, we find ourselves locked up in our various chambers in fear, this time not of various authorities that persecute us, but rather of the dreadful hand of death. In those fearfilled chambers, we worry about those closest to us as well, while at the same time carrying guilt for not being able, in some cases, to be there for those close to us who have needed us in their last moments, and those for whom we could do nothing more than simply be there with them, praying either with words or tears.

One of the greatest tragedies of bereavement is the reality of separation which engulfs us as we become more and

more aware that the chasm between us and those whom we once loved and see no longer, is no longer to be measured in physical distance but beyond the same. While we deal with that pain of separation, it is important that we come to understand that it is neither unusual nor is it a marker of little faith to feel the pain of loss.

We know Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus, moments before he raised him from the dead. Those who were around even commented on how that act of weeping showed how much Jesus loved Lazarus his dear friend. This also points to the compassion Jesus felt for Mary and Martha, who had been so faithful to him. If Jesus, whom we believe is fully divine AND fully human, wept, knowing Lazarus was to be resurrected from the dead, how much more we who know not when the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come, will be upon us?

Our grief, as those who believe, is not to be understood as without hope. In the creed of Nicea we boldly affirm ‘et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum. Et vitam venturi saeculi’ - I look forward to the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. We are made aware of this great hope through the Holy Sacrament of Baptism, wherein we are configured with Christ in his death so that we may share his risen life.

It is St Paul who reminds us: “in the midst of death we are in life,” such is the life of the baptised, constantly being called to various moments of passion and death only to find resurrection and new life through the same. Bereavement, in itself, is another moment of death, of passion. It is a journey of letting go in this realm of life in order that new life may find birth in the next realm, as holds the prayer attributed to St Francis of Assisi: “it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”

For many of us, this sense of loss and grief is a lived experience as we have buried loved ones; family, friends, colleagues and others who have special claims on our lives. There is not a thesaurus in the world that is able to help us sufficiently describe in words, the depth of the pain of loss, and the reality of our various losses continues to stare us in the face with every passing day.

Fr Michael Mitton in Requiem Healing speaks of how we need to enable the bereaved to love their dead. We see how this restores the faith of Martha at the grave of Lazarus, having challenged the Lord by stating that her brother would not have died had the Lord been there on time.

Jesus does not admonish her for expressing her pain, but instead affirms his resurrection. She, as a result of being allowed to grieve, for grief itself is evidence of love, is encouraged to look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. It is for this reason that the Anglican Rite of Burial contains prayers for both the departed and the bereaved, committing the latter to the love of God affirming “their need at this time for strength and solace in accepting their loss” (APB 1989: 526).

When all is said and done, we are left behind with another chance at life, and another chance therefore of resurrection beyond our death experiences of grief.

Ours is to use fruitfully the time we have left to us and seek to fulfil the purpose of Christ’s coming into the world, that we may have life and have it abundantly (St John 10:10).

In conclusion, I would like to offer the following prayer as an encouragement and a point of reflection for us all, especially those who have experienced grief over the past few months.

‘Grant us Lord, the wisdom and grace to use aright the time that is left to us here on earth. Lead us to repent of our sins, both the evil we have done and the good we have not done; and strengthen us to follow in the steps of your Son, in the way that leads to the fulness of eternal life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.’

May God comfort all who have experienced grief, strengthen those who support them, and grant eternal rest and perpetual light to the souls of the faithful departed.

The Revd Fr Thapelo Masemola is a Chaplain at St John's College. Fr Thapelo finds inspiration from the transformative love of God in the words of the Magnificat "he has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has lifted up the lowly" (St Luke 1:52). His experience in the parishes and schools he has served has seasoned him well in the cultivation of authentic relationships which he believes build the firm foundations of society, as the lenses through which all can come to learn the value of the other and cherish the gift of diversity while walking together in the Pilgrimage towards equity and justice for all.

“Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, And with them scourge the bad revolting stars That have consented unto Henry's death!” – (Henry VI, act I Scene I).

Spaces: Reimagined

Reimagining educational spaces, practices and technologies in a VUCA world

VUCA is an acronym used in management science since the ’80s, which describes conditions that are volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous - a neat encapsulation of the global lived experience in 2021. Aside from the radically disruptive coronavirus pandemic, we are faced with climate change, a rejuvenation of nationalist politics and widening inequality. How do we prepare our young people to venture out in this world, to not simply survive it but to understand it, take up a critical position in relation to it, and eventually work to change it for the better?

On 28 January 2021, Andreas Schleicher, Director, Directorate of Education and Skills at the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), discussed the future of global education, as part of the Davos Agenda, in an article entitled “What Will Education Look Like in 20 years? Here Are Four Scenarios”.

Against a backdrop of radical educational turmoil wrought by the coronavirus pandemic, Schleicher considered “to what extent are our current spaces, people, time and technology in schooling helping or hindering our vision? Will modernizing and fine-tuning the current system, the conceptual equivalent of reconfiguring the windows and doors of a house, allow us to achieve our goals? Is an entirely different approach to the organization of people, spaces, time and technology in education needed?”

The status quo - standardised content and spaces, a focus on individual learning experiences - was contrasted with a vision of a transformed educational system, which would “involve re-envisioning the spaces where learning takes place; not simply by moving chairs and tables, but by using multiple physical and virtual spaces both in and outside of schools,” and “full individual personalization of content and pedagogy enabled by cutting-edge technology”.

There can be few educational institutions in 2021 that aren’t explicitly grappling with a version of this dilemma. Do we retreat into a conservatism that refuses change; do we discard traditional methods entirely? Or, if we chart a course somewhere between the two extremes, how do we resolve the tensions that are introduced?

At St John’s these questions were made concrete - almost literally - through the completion of construction in 2020 of our new Preparatory School buildings, designed by Mark Pencharz of Pencharc. The St John’s campus is home to some of the oldest and most beautiful of Johannesburg’s buildings. The original Parktown campus was designed by Herbert Baker and buildings were added in 1925, 1939 and 1957 to accommodate a growing enrolment list.

The new building’s design took place before Covid-19 existed, but navigating the tensions between the traditional and modern were nonetheless top of mind. Pencharz took design cues from the existing campus and integrated the new building harmoniously and sensitively within that idiom, without slavishly copying any particular aspect of it. But more importantly, the building was intended to offer a space that would support the school’s conception of modern, vibrant, effective pedagogy. The new space was designed to encourage collaboration, complex problemsolving and creativity, and to suggest new ways of working and teaching without destabilising the learning paradigm that St John’s has honed over more than a century.

The building’s design sought to encourage flexibility in the way children choose to approach their work. Collapsible walls allow for spaces to be created to support learning goals, furniture can be moved and clustered to get away from neat, hierarchical rows, and technology is integrated

into the spaces so that teachers and learners have instant access to digital environments. An Innovate Centre on the bottom level of the building is a space for experiential projects in fields such as robotics. Breakaway spaces are incorporated throughout the building to encourage the children to take an active, experimental approach to problem-solving.

Energy efficiency was fundamental to the design, with solar panels providing electricity for lighting and temperature regulation accomplished passively through the intelligent use of materials and orientation, and actively through a smart regulatory system.

In summary, the design allows students and teachers to take a creative, flexible approach to the educational practice that takes place within it. In this, it has proved eminently successful and, as a result, has begun to receive critical acclaim — it was recently announced as a finalist in the Gauteng Institute for Architecture (GIFA) Awards for Architecture.

During the finalisation of its construction, I arrived to take up the position as Headmaster of St John’s Preparatory. Over my decade in senior school leadership positions, I have developed an approach to education that prioritises four pillars.

First, that developing content knowledge, even in the information age, is still critical. In many ways, teaching, especially in the phase encompassed by the Preparatory School, focuses on creating mental schemas; cognitive platforms which form the basis of future knowledge acquisition, comprehension and critical thinking. These schemas do not arise independently of specific content knowledge; content and form take shape simultaneously, each influencing the other.

Second, learning should acknowledge the context in which it takes place. When our children leave our school they enter into a specific work, social and political environment. They need to be able to apply the skills and knowledge they’ve acquired within this context. Developing applicable skills - communication, collaboration, critical thinking, creativity - allows them to navigate, interpret and excel within this environment.

Third, character needs to be developed in concert with mind. Preparing our children for entry into a VUCA

world requires an emphasis on integrity, honesty, courage and empathy alongside learning and critical thinking. I believe in the dualities of a traditional education, which places an emphasis on character, alongside innovation and progression. Together, they keep our institutions relevant and responsive.

Finally, the basis of our approach should be a commitment to ensuring the children in our care are mentally, physically and emotionally healthy. Their wellbeing forms the foundation of our other work. In this, I have been much influenced by Martin Seligman and his work around Positive Psychology.

These pillars might seem abstract when laid out in point form. But their application in the context of 2020, the opening of the new building and the changes necessitated by the coronavirus pandemic were immediately tangible.

Although the building was designed before a pandemic, it has enabled an effective response to it in ways that suggest

an ongoing approach to flexible learning that encompasses the best of the old and the new. The flexible spaces allow us to maintain physical distancing in a way that traditional classrooms don’t, the integrated digital technology enables safe collaboration within a classroom environment, and the flexible approach to learning actively engages children in the process, as opposed to sitting at home and being fed an online-only curriculum.

It has been wonderful to observe the children’s reaction to the new space. Simply walking into classrooms that are 80 square metres — double what they were accustomed to — was initially a disconcerting experience. And there was an initial hesitancy around what would be allowed in this new space: “Can I sit here? Is this room for us?”

But after nearly a year of growing accustomed to the space, alongside a newfound sense of ownership, there is a persistent atmosphere of excitement, almost urgency, that accompanies the increased agency they have in designing their own educational experience. This is training in flexibility, agility and navigating complexity — without a word being said.

There is a powerful, and perhaps under-considered, relationship between the spaces in which learning takes place, the possibility of setting and accomplishing learning objectives, and the learning experience as a whole. Spaces that inspire, involve, and subtly suggest values - creativity, collaboration, innovation - have the potential to revitalise and energise the learning and teaching experiences.

The St John’s teachers, administrators and wider family thought deeply about the ways in which education might be altered by the challenges, strictures and opportunities that materialised over the past 18 months. This process of intense reflection resulted in a renewed commitment to certain aspects of the educational experience.

We firmly believe in the pivotal role of the teacher in developing and populating children’s mental schemas, to set the basis of constructive self-directed learning and a critical approach to knowledge gathering. We do not believe that a shift to online-only education serves the needs of either teachers or students. And we have committed to our ethos of encouraging creative, collaborative, experiential and experimental learning, underpinned by a concurrent focus on values-based character development.

In his Davos Agenda article, Schleicher posits four possible scenarios for the future of education but then clarifies: “We can construct an endless range of such scenarios. The future could be any combination of them and is likely to look very different in different places around the world. Despite this, such thinking gives us the tools to explore the consequences for the goals and functions of education, for the organization and structures, the education workforce and for public policies. Ultimately, it makes us think harder about the future we want for education. It often means resolving tensions and dilemmas: What is the right balance between modernizing and disruption? How do we reconcile new goals with old structures? How do we support globally minded and locally rooted students and teachers?”

In a way, the education process rests on our ability to instil a capacity for constructively resolving tensions and dilemmas. St John’s has a proud history of educational excellence and is a school that merges the duality of a traditional, values-based educational approach with progressive, cutting-edge and contemporary approaches to education. Our particular strength, I am increasingly coming to believe, is in our ability to emphasise these tensions instead of avoiding them, and to seek their productive resolution not just in our curriculum but in our approach to pedagogy and the spaces in which it can most effectively take place.

SAVINGS, INNOVATION AND TREASURE

Lester Lalla is the Headmaster of St John's Preparatory. He is an educational leader with a wealth of experience in the classroom and in administration. He is an advocate of evidence-informed change and pedagogy, with a determination to build strong school communities through collaboration, authenticity and the pursuit of excellence.

When the new Prep building was conceived, the brief was to make it as “green” as possible. This decision was driven by the unstable provision and escalating cost of electricity, the fact that water supply in Johannesburg is expected to become unreliable, and the Council of St John’s College policy to commit to sustainable and ecologically responsible development. This brief was more than met and, by mid-year, just six months into the new Prep building’s life, it had already saved St John’s some R130 000 in electricity bills. This was achieved using photovoltaic (PV) panels on the new Prep roof, a system designed to generate enough power to sustain the new building and to feed any excess back into the school grid to subsidise the College power demands.

To further enhance the efficient use of electricity for heating and cooling, the greatest saving for the lowest cost came via careful insulation. The roof slab and cavity walls are well insulated, double glazing is used on all the large windows, and the remaining windows are fitted with e-glass, sized optimally and set back to shade them.

Heating uses efficient infrared heating units controlled by ambient temperature, a timer and movement - only operating when necessary. Classroom lighting is controlled by ambient lux levels and movement sensors, so lights are not left on unnecessarily. Exposed massed concrete acts as a heat sink to keep temperatures stable and hot water is supplied by solar collectors on the roof. A “plug and play” facility installed should we ever need to supplement electricity supply with a generator.

Water supply also poses a risk and the new Prep building was designed using the innovative idea of plumbing the toilets separately from the basins and drinking water taps. Should water supply be interrupted, a pressure pump at the pool is automatically activated so that toilets can be flushed with pool water. We were interested that the plumbing contractors had never encountered an innovation like this before.

Conserving the school’s rich heritage remains an imperative, and with every new build, we uncover treasures. When the old buildingpreviously the San and, more recently, a staff residence - on the site was demolished, we found even older foundations inside it. The dressed stone found was harvested and now clads the north facade. In addition, several of the original foundation stones were incorporated in the memorial fountain, which stands where the demolished building once stood.

Cliff Midgley started teaching Geography at St John’s in 1971. He was Nash Housemaster from 1980 to 1989, then appointed Senior Assistant Master, a post he held until 1998 before taking over as Second Master until his retirement in 2012. After “retiring”, he continued teaching for several years, and most recently projectmanaged the building of the new Pre-Prep and the Prep buildings.

The sustainability and eco-friendliness inherent in the new Prep building were briefed at the design stage, and surprise finds were cleverly incorporated, writes Cliff Midgley

Nthato Mokgata, aka Spoek Mathambo, has carved out a unique and prolific career at the boundaries of film, music and visual art. Since his initial rise to fame in the mid-naughts as a member of electro-rap duo Sweat.X, he has released dozens of albums, singles and EPs as a solo artist and founder of musical collectives Fantasma, Batuk, AC La Clim, and Mshini Wam.

In 2014, Mokgata released the three-part film series Future Sound of Mzansi, which documented South Africa’s cultural landscape and home-grown genres of electronic music, and in October 2021 he released MUTANT, a documentary exploring the life and work of enigmatic Western Cape rapper Isaac Mutant.

Though the pandemic has been immensely disruptive to performers around the world, it allowed for Mokgata to finalise projects including a hip-hop series about South African jazz called “Afro Jazz Giants”, and Kitsuko, a collaborative rock-influenced project that he recorded and produced in France with guitarist/producer Christophe

Borca. “Despite the obvious emotional toll,” he says, “I have enjoyed the space and time to focus on personal and spiritual development, physical health, as well as having the time to work on time-intensive commissions such as scriptwriting for TV and films.”

As part of the 2021 National Arts Festival (which took place online this year), Mokgata collaborated with saxophonist Banele Nkosi and a host of young jazz musicians to perform a concert called “Afro Jazz Giants”, which streamed from the legendary John Kani stage at the Market Theatre. Mokgata and his wife have also been working on a visual art collaboration called Fonseca & Mokgata Art, which includes oil painting on canvas and mixed-media sculptures, which he describes as “the most exciting and invigorating project that I have engaged in for the past five years.”

Mokgata credits Teka Music, his publishing and production platform, as the most influential of his projects in terms of its impact on his career. “Having a sustainable

self-created platform to share and monetise my work,” he explains, “means I can engage in progressive partnerships while maintaining ownership of my intellectual property.”

In 2020 Mokgata was the recipient of a Standard Bank Young Artist Award, for his role not only as a musician working in the “realms of experimental electronic music”, but in developing platforms for South African musicians and producers on a global scale. “It is always great to be recognised for your efforts and endeavours by institutions, peers and audiences alike, and this is one of the most prestigious arts awards in the country, so I really enjoyed the experience,” he says.

Running FOR MENTAL HEALTH

“I’m not a runner. I’m not a professional athlete at all. I’m no one special – and I think that’s the important thing. I’m a regular guy who knows how important your mental health is.”

On 18 November 2021, 133 days after setting out from Manguzi, just south of the South AfricaMozambique border, restaurateur Henry Cock, 35, arrived in Alexander Bay, on the southern bank of the Orange River, as the holder of a new world record for the most consecutive half marathons run.

On each of those 133 days, in an unbroken, gruelling chain, Cock ran 21.1km, for a total of 2 806.2km in just over four months. He actually broke the record on 21 September after running for 76 days, and then proceeded to run for nearly two months after that. In the process, he circumnavigated South Africa’s entire coastline, met and ran alongside hundreds of South Africans, and raised R1.168-million for the South African Depression and Anxiety Group (SADAG).

When we first spoke to him he was in Nature’s Valley, near Plettenberg Bay, and the two-and-a-half months he’d spent away from home was starting to wear thin. “Every second day is a challenge right now. I’ll have an up day, followed by a down day. The body’s feeling strong, but the mental strain of never being able to settle is wearying.”

It was a period of mental strain that initially gave Cock the idea for the challenge. His restaurant business had struggled under lockdown in 2020, and family health issues and the end of a long-term relationship had meant that he was under acute strain. “I’d gone through a difficult patch which really opened my eyes both to the prevalence of mental health issues - an estimated 9.7% of South Africans suffer from chronic depression, and one in five will suffer one or more depressive episodes in their lifetime - and to the amazing support networks available to those struggling. The more I learned about SADAG in particular, the more they impressed me. Through their committed volunteers and staff they do truly incredible work assisting South Africans who are battling with mental health.”

THE STORY OF HENRY COCK (HODGSON 2003 | SIXTH FORM 2004)

On day 133, on his very last run, Cock set his personal best time, of 1 hour 37 minutes. Then, accompanied by friends who’d driven up from Cape Town, he cracked a “very large” bottle of champagne, and relief and adrenaline crashed over him.

He receives offers of accommodation and hospitality wherever he goes, but keeping in touch with his networks and making sure his logistics support his project takes a great deal of time and co-ordination. “There’s some flexibility in terms of the requirements of the record. I don’t have to run at the same time each day, for instance. That means that if I’m feeling down, I can run a morning and the following afternoon, giving me a bit more time to recover.”

Any ideas he might have had at the start of the adventure about planning weeks in advance went out the window when a Covid-related Level 3 lockdown was instituted. Instead, he took it week by week, with the only dates that were set in stone being those where he’d committed to meeting up with running clubs and doing some of the runs as a group.

“I’ve met some of the most incredible people on this trip. It’s become this incredible support system. I can be 16km into a difficult day and someone with a smile will pitch up and keep me company. It really turns your attitude around.”

When asked about his highlights (typically, he told us he couldn’t think of any lowlights), Cock mentioned the physical beauty of the former Transkei region. “A big part of this project is to showcase South African tourism. My family is in entertainment and music business, which has been one of the sectors most affected by lockdowns. We need to get our economy back up and running, and tourism has a big part to play. South Africa really is the most stunning place. I’ve been so impressed by the beauty of the environments I’ve travelled through and the people I’ve shared time with. I’ve also learnt a lot about my mental and physical capacities. In the beginning I really didn’t think I would be able to get up and do it again each day, but the mind and body adjust. After about 12 days I got used to it, and then started to look forward to it. It’s amazing what we can get used to.”

Also In The News

The New Apartheid

Sizwe Mpofu-Walsh is an author, recording artist and scholar. He was president of the UCT Students’ Representative Council in 2010. He holds a DPhil in International Relations at Oxford. His debut book, Democracy and Delusion, won the City Press-Tafelberg Nonfiction Award and was longlisted for the Sunday Times Alan Paton Nonfiction Award.

What inspired you to write The New Apartheid?

I’ve had a nagging sense for a long time that stark and distressing similarities persist between presentday South Africa and its apartheid predecessor, and that the celebration of South African democracy has masked some of those resemblances. It’s a commonly held intuition. What I wanted to do with this book is investigate that intuition, and research it, and try to provide a deep exploration of it.

What did you hope to achieve by publishing the book?

I wanted to shock people into beholding the scale of the apartheid project, because I think if we don’t appreciate the scale of the project and how it continues to live in the present and even in the future, then we will consistently be scratching the surface of what actually needs to be uprooted. What we’re living in now would be the first democratic republic. It was a noble experiment. We learned a lot along the way, but fundamentally the very way that we constitute South Africa is still flawed.

And so I make recommendations about how we can reconstitute a new democratic republic, which builds on the gains of the first. So as you can see, this book is not controversial at all!

You mention controversy and the desire to shock people. Do you see the destabilisation of narratives as an express goal of yours?

Yes, absolutely. I think that’s one of the hallmarks of education in its purest sense: the ability to contest long-held myths and myths of abiding influence and bring to bear a critical sensibility that overturns people’s assumptions. And that is something that I think I learned to do during my best times at St John’s. And also in my university education - that was the thing that I admired most about the thinkers that I was inspired by: their ability to look at something from a different perspective and then slowly shift paradigms, not for the sake of it, but towards a deeper understanding of a problem.

Looking back on your time at St John’s, what are your primary recollections?

My recollections are bittersweet. I think that schools like St John’s, and St John’s in particular, still have a long way to go to overcome their own legacies of oppression, and those legacies were certainly there for all to see when I was there. Despite that, the more my life unfolds, the more I realise that a lot of what I learnt, and took for granted, at St John’s actually conferred major advantages and privileges on me. For example, a spirit of critical inquiry, and an expectation of excellence, which is very important to overcome one’s sense of fear and hone one’s sense of self. The school has a lot to grapple with, but it also has a lot to be proud of, and I think that that’s the only fair way to look at it.

The Crash of RHINOS

“The process of relocating a 2-tonne rhino to Australia is not a simple one,” The Australian Rhino Project website declares, in what must be a small masterpiece of understatement. But despite the imposing challenges, the case for relocating a population of rhinos - black and white - from southern Africa to Australia to protect them from poachers is not as unlikely as it might at first sound.

‘What will future generations think of us when they look back and rhinos are only in a picture book?’

The Crash of Rhinos is a play on words. A ‘crash’ is the collective noun for rhinos, but it also describes the carnage wrought by poachers in Africa who have slaughtered more than 10,000 rhinos — three a day— in the past decade to feed the seemingly insatiable demand for rhino horn in some Asian countries.

The author spent his first forty years in South Africa and during this time developed a love of wildlife. After emigrating to Australia, Ray retained strong ties with African wildlife and conservation. In 2014 a friend suggested that he investigate the feasibility of bringing rhinos to Australia to act as an insurance policy in the event of the possibility of the extinction of rhino species in the wild.

The Australian Rhino Project was born.

The Crash of Rhinos traces the origin of the Project to the present situation with the team still working to relocate rhinos to Australia. It is an insightful, frustrating, humorous and humbling story that will make you laugh, cry and tear your hair out in exasperation. In Ray’s own words, ‘There was extreme joy and there was acute heartache’.

This fascinating story demonstrates what can be achieved by one person with the passion, resilience and dogged persistence to meet challenges, obstacles and the glacial pace of governments — even in the face of a crisis.

The proceeds of this book will be directed to the South African all-female anti-poaching group, The Black Mambas.

www.blackmambas.org

Also available as an ebook

The Crash of Rhinos is available through Amazon, Booktopia, and Blue Weaver distribution, and the proceeds of sales of the book are directed to the all-female anti-poaching group and community role models, the Black Mambas. For more information on the book and on Ray’s other work, visit rhinoray.com.au

Preventing the Extinction of an Iconic Species

DBE

Q&A with author

MARTHA MKHIZE (NÉE DLAMINI)

(SIXTH FORM NASH 1989)

What inspired you to write Greater than Regret?

Greater Than Regret is about picking myself up after being locked in a self-made prison for almost 30 years. I wanted to share my experiences with the world, hoping it may inspire someone else to pursue their dreams.

What themes run through your book?

The book describes my parents and early childhood, my schooling at St John’s, my marriage, divorce, illhealth, debt and redemptive journey. The major theme focuses on overcoming regret and pursuing one’s dreams.

Could you describe the experience of writing Greater than Regret?

It was the most therapeutic experience I’ve ever had. The best part is that after people read the book, they can relate to some of my experiences and they want to start a conversation. This prompted me to register for the psychology degree I’m currently studying towards.

What impression did St John’s make on you?

I hardly have the words to describe my amazement when I first saw the school. It was so beautiful! St John’s College was one of the few schools in South Africa which admitted black students during the apartheid era. The Director of the Sixth Form was an absolute gentleman who made sure everyone was treated the same. I knew that with a St John’s A-Level qualification and my sponsors behind me, the sky was the limit.

What is currently keeping you busy?

I have a full-time job as a Senior Systems Analyst in the IT department of a medical aid administration company. I am also doing my second-level psychology degree through UNISA.

“Greater

“I hardly have the words to describe my amazement when I first saw the school. It was so beautiful!”

JOHANNIANS AT THE Summer Olympics in Tokyo

“Pride and Prejudice”

Reflections of an early black Johannian

Thulani Khanyile (Nash 1989) reflects on his time at St John’s during the height of Apartheid.

An anxious start

I recall my first days in September 1982 when I came into the Prep and found myself the only indigenous African child in the Prep School. If memory serves me well, Rhulani Garrine and Andisa Ntsubane were the only ones in the Pre-Prep. There were perhaps a handful in the College, primarily in Sixth Form. The Headmaster of the College then was Mr Breytenbach and Mr Derek Wilkinson was the Prep Headmaster.

I found the entire campus a beautiful and rather imposing physical space and most of my teachers were lovely and there was the odd exception whom I felt was at best, at a loss as to how to relate to me and at worst, laboured under the misapprehension that he was superior by dint of race. Mrs Madeleine Midgely kindly taught me Afrikaans extra lessons for a period of time so that I could understand the basics of Afrikaans.

A colonial encounter

The first moment to jar was when we were attending a music lesson and the teacher asked the class to sing thethen national anthem of Apartheid colonialism, Die Stem. As I was a township boy and came from a very political family, this song was anathema to me and I regarded it as a celebration of colonial conquest. Therefore, I refused to sing it and the music teacher left it at that and I suspect he too was at a loss on how to respond. But I remember that episode well and it captured my alienation from an environment that was exclusively white, English and with quaint elite English public school overtones and orientation. My two years and a bit otherwise passed uneventfully.

College calls

The year before I went to the College, Mr Breytenbach left and was replaced as College Head by Mr Walter Wallace MacFarlane, an old boy and former teacher at St John’s who’d left the school to become founding Headmaster of St Stithians Prep School. When I started Remove, I found there were a number of new black students in Remove

and other grades in the College, including the Sixth Form. One of these students became the first black house prefect, one Louis Seeco who was an outstanding athlete and wonderful guy and as such, was hugely admired by black and white Johannians. Though he was in the Sixth Form, he became a firm friend and mentor to me and other students and remains a beloved friend to this day.

Early in my Remove year, I secured a full bursary from the Anglo Chairman’s Fund, courtesy of Mr MacFarlane, the senior leadership of the school and Council. If memory serves me well, the Chair of Council in our time was Mr Michael O’Dowd, one of the highest-ranking Anglo executives.

Discrimination… and the dawn of diversity

This bursary enabled me to leave Thompson House, where I was a day scholar traveling to and from school from my home in Diepkloof Soweto, a four-hour round trip. I mostly took taxis or Putco buses to and from Soweto and the Johannesburg Central Business District and then forced my way into the then Whites-only metro buses to and from Houghton and I would spin a yarn to the white bus conductors who would question my presence in their buses by telling them that I had a special permit to ride on those buses from the Minister of Education who was in political control of the white education system that was ironically-named the Department of Christian Education, under whose remit St John’s College and similar schools as well as white government schools fell. All but one of the conductors would buy my permit story and the uncouth fellow who did not would make a habit of calling the bus to a halt and then physically eject me with relish. I believe the former US Secretary of State and former First Lady might have referred to this boorish fellow as a “deplorable.”

What sustained me at the time was my keen awareness that other black people had to contend with far worse and, as such, I was relatively privileged due to coming from a loving and devoted family, and the education from, and reverence for learning, at the three different schools I’d attended, both rich and poor.

The bursary enabled me to become a weekly boarder and to enjoy a greater experience of St John’s College and participate fully in extra curricular activities. I was also pleased to witness an increasing number of black boys and girls admitted to St John’s, mostly via the scholarship route. From a very low base, we saw St John’s becoming more diverse in its student body and finding creative ways of enabling black students to attend against the context of the country’s unjust laws such as the Colour Bar Act that prescribed that black people be paid a fraction of what white people in the same job categories earned. This move towards greater diversity and inclusion was itself a venture of faith by Mr MacFarlane, his deputy Mr Michael Carter, my former housemaster at Nash House and later Senior Assistant Master, Mr Cliff Midgely. My family would allow me to miss schools on certain days, such as June 16th or in acts of solidarity with the protests by black students against Bantu Education.

Political consciousness

A case in point was the beginning of 1987 when I stayed away in support of the stay away by black students organised under the banner of the Congress of South African Students (COSAS). This was a different world from the calm and stable environment that reigned at St John’s. I would advise Mr MacFarlane of my impending acts of protest and solidarity and I found him unfailingly supportive and he would engage readily about the political tumult in the country, especially in the sphere of education. In no time, he suggested that he would address the school on a number of these issues and what gave rise to them, which he did periodically. I felt at the time that he was courageous and that bringing “politics into the school” would be resented by some of the key stakeholders in the school at a time when many white South Africans, especially English-speaking, preferred to shy away from serious engagement on what was going in the country. Many of them would blithely contend that the ruling Nationalist Party was abhorrent but they did not want to get involved in politics and considered mainstream black resistance to Apartheid as terrorist and unduly radical as championed by the-then exiled ANC.

One such incident was when Mr MacFarlane invited thethen Visitor to the school, The Bishop of Johannesburg, one Bishop Desmond Mpilo Tutu. I remember some of my more vocal and conservative classmates, especially those who came from neighbouring countries, being apoplectic that such a “terrorist” was going to address the school.

Needless to say, the Bishop disarmed the students by telling a joke about God’s shortcomings in creating black people. As the raucous laughter died down, so he spoke about the equivalent shortcomings in God’s creation of white people. In his address, as was his wont, he made people see his deep humanity and that of other black people, why the struggle for freedom was essentially a struggle for the dignity of all people, and how the church was not straying from God’s work in supporting such a struggle. This was one of the most beautiful and affirming occasions for me at St John’s.

I also appreciated the understanding of my various housemasters and the headmaster when several friends and I would assemble as a cohort of mainly black students to discuss our own experiences and challenges, whether at St Johns or in the wider community. We would insist on the right to speak to each other in African tongues rather than English throughout, arguing that the education project was not to be confused with a wholesale assimilation to become black Englishmen.

The desire for a sense of belonging

For all the support and empathy of certain teachers and leaders at the school, I still felt at the time that the increasing diversity on race and gender were not accompanied by a structured and College-wide process of deep engagement and debate amongst all the constituents of St John’s, including old boys and girls, to develop a more inclusive culture with a greater sense of belonging by all constituencies at St John’s and to achieve broad buy-in into that process of change. Consequently, the school and other schools missed a trick in creating greater value from the diverse insights and experiences that demographic diversity allows to achieve both demographic and cognitive diversity and enrich decision-making.

Therefore, the ’80s were, for me, and I daresay others, a time of challenge and growth. A time when the revolutionary youth followed the injunction from OR Tambo to make the country ungovernable. PW Botha and his recalcitrant securocrats declared this a Total Onslaught and responded with States of Emergency, detention without trial, the torture of prisoners, and beating crowds at rallies and political funerals by sjambok, tear gas and all manner of harassment of the oppressed. Fortunately, this was also a period of some beautiful and cherished memories at the school, on the sports fields, on the stages of Big School and of sister schools. Some of us found a new joy in the

company of girls as close friends in some instances and, in other instances, as people with whom we took our first tentative and sometimes awkward steps at the prodding of Cupid.

Lasting impressions

I found a number of the senior teaching staff, the chaplains such as Fathers Salter, McCloud and Beart, kind, supportive, highly-capable, inspiring and they set a good example as teachers, leaders and parental figures. Many of the black staff, who were lower-ranking staff performing crucial work in the kitchen, gardens, laboratories and school security were loving, kind, proud even, to see us make our way through the college. One of these, a security guard whom I knew simply as Bab’ uButhelezi, used to relish my stealing away to join him occasionally in the evenings to discuss history, especially the Wars of Resistance and singing some of the battle songs which I knew he was enamoured of from African military history and this would culminate in our performing the traditional dance, ukugiya. Another staff member, Mr Dixon Buthelezi, retired at the end of 2021 after 46 years at St John’s and he is one of the gifted people responsible for the superb gardens at St John’s. Another who gave virtually his entire working life to St John’s College is Mr Gidefile Mntungwa. He too performed his magic in the awardwinning gardens and his own father had previously been a staff member at St John’s College. We are in their debt, just as we are to another retiree, Ms Kate Byrne, who retires after four decades as an outstanding leader and teacher at the school. I wish them, and any other staff members retiring, a long, healthy, happy and blessed retirement.

My penultimate year at St John’s culminated in my becoming one of the school prefects and the Sunday Times came and interviewed me and several friends as the paper found it noteworthy that the school had its first black school prefect. I was also elected head boy of the choir. The latter was much less a reflection of my musical talents than my enthusiasm, grit and good relations with the other choristers. In both my (Lower V) Standard 9 and (Upper V) matric years, I predominantly played for the 2nd XV Rugby team. Within a week of my becoming a school prefect-elect, however, I was suspended and grounded for eight weeks until year-end and that is possibly a story for another day…

Youth Day, 2021

COLLEGE CHARACTERS FROM THE PAST

Fr Cyprian Rudolf C.R.

Since its inception in 1898, St John’s College has been blessed by the service of a diverse range of talented, visionary and, sometimes, idiosyncratic personalities. Over time, the names of some of these luminaries in the College firmament have become immortalised in our folklore and physical spaces. The many generations of Johannians who sailed through the New Boys’ Test with flying colours require no introduction to these personages. But some of these great characters from the past are not remembered as well as those who have been beatified by official history. “Some there be which have no memorial.” In this series of articles, we remember some of these interesting persons and their respective contributions to the College.

Fr Cyril (‘Cyprian’) de Montjoie Rudolf M. A. (Oxon) (1882 – 1958) is one of the unheralded heroes of the early years of St John’s College. He was on the College staff from 1916 until 1925. During that period, he made an enduring contribution to the development of the College grounds and buildings. To him is due much credit for beautifying the grounds by starting gardens, planting trees and adorning the buildings with art works. He also exercised by his personality and presence a salutary influence on St John’s boys.

Fr Rudolf’s father, Edward (1852 – 1933), founded the Church of England’s Waifs and Strays Society (now known as the Children’s Society) in 1881. After a career in the British Civil Service, Edward was ordained as a priest in 1907. Fr Rudolf’s mother, Emma (née Bulmer), was a painter, novelist, suffragette and member of the Fabian Society.

Cyprian was educated at Westminster School and at Keble College, Oxford. He proceeded to Ely Theological College in Cambridgeshire, which had a strong Anglo-Catholic tradition. He commenced his novitiate with the Community of the Resurrection at Mirfield in Yorkshire in 1914. He made his profession in January 1916, after which the Community sent him to Johannesburg to join the St John’s College staff.

In 1916, the College buildings and grounds were still rudimentary. There were no gardens to speak of. Upon arriving at St John’s, Fr Rudolf immediately took the initiative in planning and executing landscaping projects.

Several benefactors donated plants. By 1917, Fr Rudolf was able to report that the flower beds, made in various waste spaces about the grounds with the help of Mr Stanley Dodson and several boys, promised a good show of blossom. Douglas Powrie OJ had supplied pine trees to complete the planting of the terrace, as well as azaleas, which were blooming in the cloisters.

Fr Rudolf was also appointed curator of the new College museum. In 1917, Fr Rudolf reported that the museum, with its “hotch-potch” of artefacts previously stored in a larder, was open for inspection in the Golf House. He said that he would be especially grateful for contributions exemplifying “native crafts”.

Fr Rudolf’s gardening exploits bore visible fruit. In 1918 he wrote, with evident pride and pleasure, that the flower beds that had been made hopefully, if laboriously, among the heaps of stones on the College grounds had justified their existence and had been gay with blossom throughout the summer, especially above the steps leading down to the Crypt Chapel. The floral diversity on the grounds was impressive: heliotrope, iris, fragrant shrubs, box myrtle, rosemary, lavender, southernwood, santolina, hyssop, thyme and salvia leucantha (donated by Lady Buxton, wife of the Governor-General of the Union of South Africa).

Fr Rudolf paid tribute to the architect, Mr Frank Fleming, who had “thought out the scheme very carefully” so that “in a year or two the steps and terrace ought to be one of the most attractive bits of garden architecture in the district.” He added: “Comely and orderly surroundings are bound to have some influence on the minds of boys and though our boys cannot live and work in buildings both picturesque and historic like those of Winchester, Eton and Westminster, they will, at any rate, have a building which has dignity and beauty, placed in surroundings not unworthy of it.”

By 1918, the museum’s “little collection” had ‘prospered exceedingly”. Among the acquisitions was a charcoal drawing by J. H. Pierneef of the Union Buildings (designed by Sir Herbert Baker). Pierneef also donated three of his woodcuts of South African scenery. There were fragments of 3,000-year-old Greek pottery, donated by the British Museum; a plaster cast of the Julius Caesar bust in the British Museum; 21 English silver coins, ranging from Henry II to Queen Anne, donated by Fr Rudolf’s father; specimens illustrating “native” life and customs; and an autograph collection including the signatures of Queen Victoria and Lord Roberts. The late Lieutenant Reginald Harding (who had been on the College staff) bequeathed two Medici prints, a mezzotint and a book on Rembrandt’s etchings.

In 1920, the school magazine, The Johannian, made its appearance under Fr Rudolf’s editorship. In the maiden edition, Fr Rudolf published a piece called “A Visit to St John’s – A Peep into the Future”. He conjured up a verbal depiction of the architectural blueprint devised by Nash, Baker and Fleming more than a decade earlier.

The article demonstrated Fr Rudolf’s ability to imagine vividly what that vision (which had not yet materialised in stone) entailed. He also wrote: “For here we have a building based on the traditional plan of an English College, with its central features of Chapel, Hall and Quadrangle. Yet it is not

a mere slavish copy of some obsolete style, but is distinctively of its own time and country. This is surely what St John’s stands for – to retain all that is best in the old English Public School system, but at the same time developing a life of its own, adapted to the needs and conditions of South Africa.”

Under Fr Rudolf’s curatorship, the College museum made such good progress that, in 1923, a newsreel film about the museum was shown in bioscopes and The Star published an article about it. A significant part of the collection reflected aspects of Greek, Roman and Egyptian antiquity. The museum also housed a diverse assortment of other items: a collection of South African butterflies, Rhodesian pottery, a map of the world dated 1674, a numismatic collection (including a coin issued by King Charles I in 1645), and a beautifully printed folio Bible in Latin, dated 1543.

Commenting on the incomplete state of the College buildings and grounds in 1923, Fr Rudolf wrote that it was intended, despite the school’s persistent impecuniosity, to proceed with construction projects, according to a design “that will give us one of the most attractive buildings, for its size, in the whole of South Africa.”

By Easter 1924, Fr Rudolf was able to report that Darragh Hall was approaching completion. Although the Memorial Chapel had only been built to floor level, already “the effect from the valley is notable, and one can judge how stately the completed chapel will be.”

Meanwhile, the process of decorating the buildings continued. Some inspired acquisitions were made, including ones that still adorn the grounds a century later. For example, the College procured replicas of glazed terracotta reliefs originally produced by the Florentine artist Andrea della Robbia (1435 – 1525). “These,” wrote Fr Rudolf, “should add greatly to the general effect of the buildings. No form of external decoration is more suitable for our light and climate.” These enamelled plaques were: “Our Lady and Child”, placed above the archway leading into the Prep Courtyard; “Tobias and the Angel”, looking over the “Italian garden” and fountain adjacent to Pelican Quad; “The Blessed Virgin adoring the Christ Child”, outside the entrance to the San staircase; and “The Blessed Virgin adoring the Christ Child”, in the Crypt Chapel.

At Ascension 1925, the Headmaster, Fr Eustace Hill, wrote in The Johannian: “Mr Herbert Baker has given us plans for a College of 500, and if every Churchman who can afford to pay for his sons’ education did so, we should

soon get this number and get rid of the grandmotherly idea of Government paying for the rich instead of helping the poor and the native.” Thus, Fr Hill objected to the notion of public funds being used to provide education for the affluent classes, especially in circumstances where education for “the poor and the native” was deficient.

Fr Rudolf elaborated in his editorial notes: “We have much to be thankful for — such rapid growth could not have been anticipated when St John’s first moved up to Houghton Estate, still less when a ring of splendid Government Schools was built about us, especially when education at those schools was made free by [Government] as a graceful gesture to the cultured classes. The extensions to our buildings make a goodly show, and this year will see the opening not only of the Darragh Hall, but, all being well, of the first part of the Chapel as well. LAUS DEO.”

Fr Rudolf added: “Our ideals and aims are high, but we can hardly expect to surpass the big Government Schools in things where numbers tell, seeing that we are still not half their size. Patience is an excellent virtue so long as it does not degenerate into slackness — we must not be slow in admiring all that is best in our rivals, and what we admire in others we must do our best to practise ourselves, and be big-hearted enough to rejoice in merit wherever we see it.”

Fr Rudolf made a start to bringing order to another part of the wilderness that still surrounded much of the College. A stone wall was built to shut off the bicycle shed at the western end of the grounds, and against this wall flowering creepers were planted. The Italian Garden was completed by the addition of the statuette of a boy pouring water from a gourd and the planting of palms and azaleas. A garden court was being planned at the corner of St David Road and Tee Lane, with wrought-iron railings “on the lines of College closes in the old country,” wrote Fr Rudolf. “This will help to make our road frontage more orderly and dignified.”

Fr Rudolf wrote about progress with construction of the Memorial Chapel: already one could get some impression of the great height to which it would rise. The importance of the Chapel could not be overstated, said Fr Rudolf, for a school without a chapel had lost its soul or, rather, had never found it.

At the end of Advent Term 1925, Fr Rudolf departed from St John’s College much as he had arrived — without fanfare. During the 10 years that he had spent at St John’s he had made a major contribution to the school’s development. A century later, the fruits of his labour remain as a visible testament to his creative virtuosity. He also launched and edited The Johannian, and so performed the role of chronicler of the College during a period of significant development.

On his return to England, Fr Cyprian Rudolf became secretary of the Anglican Children’s Society for Waifs and Strays, founded by his father in 1881. He spent several years at the Community of the Resurrection’s house in London, and became chaplain of St Nicholas Orthopaedic Hospital and Home for Children at Pyrford, Surrey. By 1945 he was increasingly afflicted by blindness and deafness. He returned to the Community’s Mother House at Mirfield. He spent his remaining years visiting people in the neighbourhood. He died on 30 May 1958, aged 76, having been hit by a car on the Leeds-Huddersfield Road the previous November, from which he never fully recovered.

Daniel Pretorius has had sons enrolled at St John’s College continuously since January 2000. He served on Council from 2008 until 2012, chairing the Building Committee. He taught History at the College from 2013 until 2018, was Housemaster of Clarke House from 2014 until 2018, and was master-incharge of Debating. He has been the chairman of the Heritage Committee since its inception in 2017. In his dreams he wanders around the College grounds in the 1920s and has tea with the brethren of the Community of the Resurrection.

“The importance of the Chapel could not be overstated, for a school without a chapel had lost its soul or, rather, had never found it.”

RE-CREATING A COHESIVE COMMUNITY

What led you to joining St John’s?

Prior to joining St John’s College, I worked with an international non-profit organisation based in South Africa and Germany, and before that I taught at Dainfern College. The position of Head of Community Engagement at St John’s seemed an exciting fit for someone like myself, as I have a passion for both education and socio-economic development. The role encompasses life skills development, career guidance and stakeholder engagement, which lends itself perfectly to my areas of interest and expertise.

What made the biggest impression in your first year at the school?

What has struck me most has been the culture and ethos at St John’s. I have noticed a true commitment to care, a deep appreciation for building partnerships, communities, and the country, and an acknowledgement of the value we can realise from our position of privilege. The idea of collaboration with stakeholders outside our perimeter fence, and of giving, is deeply ingrained and something I’m excited to be a part of.

What programmes does the Community Engagement office administer?

Our flagship programme is the St John’s College Academy, which is now in its 12th year. The Academy is an after-school enrichment programme for boys from disadvantaged backgrounds in Grades 6 to 7, and 10 to 12, who attend government schools in Hillbrow and Highlands North.

The Academy Programme was exceptionally well run by my predecessor, and it has been an absolute pleasure, and immensely fulfilling, to take over its administration. It makes a tremendous impact on the lives of not just the 120 boys now in the programme, but on their classmates and teachers at their schools.

The boys in the programme receive academic tutoring and support at St John’s three days a week, over and above their regular schooling. We provide the boys with a full uniform, a hot meal each day, and an allowance to cover the cost of their transport. The academic focus of the programme is on English, Maths and Science, but we are augmenting the core programme with additional subjects, including IT, Geography, and Accounting in 2022.

A big win this year was the introduction of an extramural programme for the Academy. The boys in the programme have committed their time, and this often comes at the expense of extramural activities at their schools. We want to ensure their holistic development as far as we can, and extramural and life skills activities contribute to this goal. They have also proven excellent bridging activities to strengthen relationships between the Academy boys and the College boys, which I see as a key area of continued focus in the years to come.

Throughout the year we run camps and excursions for the Academy boys, including a leadership camp for Grade 11s, and a revision camp for Grade 12s before their exams. These have proven hugely beneficial.

Our most pressing goal for the programme is to work closely with the teachers in the partner schools to bridge the gaps in the syllabus caused by the pandemic. Beyond that, we want to continue to expand opportunities for the boys post-Academy, ensuring every Matric student gains access to higher education opportunities; secure scholarships in neighbouring schools for our Grade 7 graduates; work closely with teachers from our partner schools to build networks and share insights; further integrate the Academy into the life of the College to allow for meaningful relationships between College and Academy students; and strengthen the new extramural component.

I extend my heartfelt appreciation for the contribution of the St John’s teachers and pupils who have given of their time and expertise to welcome and tutor the Academy boys.

The second programme we administer is the Centenary Scholarship, which gives meritorious boys from disadvantaged communities the opportunity to excel at St John’s. We accept 10 Centenary Scholars into Remove each year, and they are provided a full five-year scholarship alongside tutoring and mentoring.

Over the next few years, we aim to increase the number of applicants from neighbouring schools; work with the Advancement Office to ensure the long-term sustainability of the Centenary programme; and support Centenary parents to play an active role in the development of their children throughout the course of the scholarship. The environment the Centenary Scholarship boys enter is often drastically different from the one they’re used to, and this can be a destabilising experience, both for them and for their parents. We endeavour to take this into account and provide enough support to make the experience as understanding and inviting as possible.

A huge milestone this year was the award, for the first time, of a Centenary Scholarship to one of our Prep Academy graduates. This suggests the possibility of the Academy growing to become a pipeline for access to academic opportunity in a far broader sense.

The final broad component of the work of the Community Engagement office is community liaison and community service. This involves building relationships with NGOs, educational institutions, principals from schools around us and other stakeholders. It also involves finding new ways to make our campus more accessible and make a meaningful contribution to our sector and to society.

It was very gratifying this year to see the response to our call for support for families impacted by Covid-19. We learned of families who faced evictions, who couldn’t keep the lights on during the chilling winter, and some who could no longer even put food on the table. The St John’s community was exceptionally generous, and thus far we have raised over R130000 towards relief efforts.

What are your hopes and goals for 2022?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we were able to take off our masks? My hopes for the end of the pandemic aside, 2022 will be an opportunity for me to begin to build and refine my internal and external relationships, after a first year spent familiarising myself with our networks and structures. A tremendous amount of work remains, to overcome the disruption the pandemic has caused, and to bring stakeholders, including parents, back into the processes where they belong.

To find out how you can support the St John's College Academy, please contact advancement@stjohnscollege.co.za

Extending OUR REACH

During October I had the opportunity to attend three St John’s reunions and to engage faceto-face with some of our Old Johannians. St John’s College Executive Head, Stuart West, and I were honoured to be invited to the Class of 1991 reunion in Johannesburg on the 15th; a “Boar’s Head Luncheon” in Plettenberg Bay on the 22nd, and a Cape Town reunion on the 26th.

Meeting with Old Johannians across generations — from the Class of 1963 to the Class of 2019 — highlights that the real value of a school like St John’s lies in the people it produces. At every event we were warmly welcomed by those who have excelled in their fields: teachers, pilots, doctors, entrepreneurs, engineers and more. But it is also notable how many of these Old Johannians have used

their skills and abilities to make a meaningful contribution to society, to make the world a better place. The benefits of the excellent education St John’s provides are shared far beyond those who were fortunate enough to attend the school. I was struck by the gratitude and appreciation of the Old Johannians for the privilege afforded to them in attending St John’s and a desire to make that opportunity available to others. Old Johannians leave St John’s with much more than an academic education.

As society’s challenges grow more dynamic and complex, there is a greater need for diverse skills and good leadership. It is vital, therefore, that we maintain the features that make St John’s excellent: world-class teachers, superior facilities, a well-rounded approach to academics as well as sport and culture, and a strong grounding in the Christian

faith. In addition, we need to stay on the leading edge of technological development, evolving innovative teaching methods and incorporating technology in a mindful, intentional way that augments, rather than replaces, the in-person teaching that makes St John’s so special.

While maintaining the standards of excellence, it is equally important that we strive to make St John’s as accessible as possible. We must ensure excellence does not equate to exclusivity. The Centenary Scholarship and the St John’s Academy are our two flagship programmes which address accessibility. The Academy is our after-school academic support programme run in partnership with two of our neighbouring inner-city schools. The Centenary Scholarships fully support 10 students per grade in the College and are awarded to deserving young men from families with limited means.

We would like to thank all of our generous donors — parents, Old Johannians, students and staff — for their generosity and support during this extremely challenging year. Donor funding makes it possible for St John’s to share its privilege with more of our future experts, innovators and leaders.

Shelley Roberts has worked in Advancement in the education sector for over 10 years. At Rhodes University she served as Development Services Manager and, on returning to Johannesburg, moved to Wits University where she held the positions of Head of Marketing, Events and Executive Education at the Wits School of Governance, and Fundraising Manager in the Development and Fundraising Office.

Shelley graduated from Rhodes University with an Honours in Journalism and recently completed her Master‘s at Wits University.

If you, or your company, would like to make a donation to the St John’s College Foundation, or would like to find out more about the work the Foundation does and the benefits of giving, we would love to hear from you.

You can also find out more or make an online donation here: sjc.co.za/donations

Bona fide donations will receive a Section 18A tax certificate and companies may be

The St John’s College Foundation is an independent trust, reference number IT 7894/04(T); a Non-Profit Organisation, reference number: 021-654-NPO; a Public Benefit Organisation, reference number: 130003224 and SARS reference number

foundation@stjohnscollege.co.za

We invite all Old Johannians to update their contact details with the Old Johannian Association so that we can keep in touch.