The 2023 Chronicle

best Honours thesis and now runs the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Hedley Twidle, to whom I gave five 100% marks for his last five essays at Michaelhouse, went on to win the prize in his finals for the best arts degree at Oxford. (Why wouldn’t he when he had compiled the complete dictionary of Michaelhouse slang as a C Blocker?) I know that you will have a store of your own indelible memories from this magical place, which you will carry into the world into which you are going. I hope that you will have ones that remind you that you are not alone, that you have a purpose, and that you are infinitely precious. I was privileged to teach at Michaelhouse from 1980 to 2004. I have been out of the school now nearly 20 years and have had time to reflect upon how remarkable an institution this is. When I am asked what makes the magic of Michaelhouse, I am hard- pressed to give a succinct answer. I know that it has something to do with the natural beauty of the place, a subtle charm that insidiously infiltrates one’s aesthetic so that ever afterwards it becomes a kind of benchmark. It has to do with the quality of men and women who have served here and have left a human signature both small and great, rather like the foot-worn tiles in the Main Quad. Finally, it has to do with the long line of boys whose spirits have been moved by the spirit of this place to become the men they have become, so that with Alan Paton I am able to say, “These hills are grass-covered and rolling and they are lovely beyond any singing of it… Keep it, guard it, care for it, for it keeps men, guards men, cares for men.” As you walk into the Senior Dining Hall you will pass under the lintel at the entrance on which these words are inscribed, Quit you like men . I do not think that this was meant as a fore- warning for the questionable quality of meal you were about to receive. Instead, it has to do with the question that all Michaelhouse boys should ask of themselves, which is, “What does it mean to be a man?” In the face of a growing recognition all over the world that our educational systems often fail boys, it is a question that demands careful consideration. Worldwide, suicide amongst young men is double that of their sisters; delinquency is five times more likely to be male than female; one in five boys is obese; the twin calamities of drug abuse and depression are far more prominent amongst boys than girls. Increasingly, we have discovered that part of the reason for this chronic underperformance by men is the widespread adoption of a toxic stereotype of masculinity that has been perpetuated in the education of boys. It purports that, as with the Marlborough Man, the key to survival in a harsh world lies in lonely, stoic endurance. Real manne , like cowboys, don’t cry. Failure is always a badge of dishonour instead of one of the most potent starting points for growth. By contrast, Michaelhouse has always taken a different view. Built into its foundation, its very DNA, are James Cameron Todd’s words that remind us that, “Our aim is to make, not accountants, not clerks, not doctors, not clergymen, but men; men of understanding, thought and culture.” This is an audacious claim, made over 125 years ago, for an education that is more than a merely Gradgrindian utilitarian education. Great rectors who have led this school have recognized this priority ever since. The Spartan approach to educating the young is based on cunning, draconian discipline and fear.

It produced Greece’s most feared soldiers but almost nothing else. By contrast, the Athenians indulged in drama, fine art and architecture, literature, philosophy, oratory, medicine, music and mathematics. They also defeated the Persians at Thermopylae. Great teachers at Michaelhouse have always preferred Athens to Sparta, and because peer pressure is such a force for good or bad among adolescent boys, Housemasters, teachers and coaches have ensured that senior boys provide models of this sort of manliness on a daily basis. They protect this legacy for all they are worth. How you leavers have lived up to this standard will be the measure of your legacy. Vital to producing men who are strong is the role of fathers. In my experience, good fathers are like good coaches: they stick with the team when things go badly as well as when they go well. They catch their sons doing things right and reinforce that behaviour. They are present to provide guidance and correction where necessary, but they understand that true strength is often defined by gentleness, generosity and kindness. They are fun to be with because they do not always take themselves too seriously. They are strong, not because they are without flaws, but because they have been forged on the anvil of life and do not quit at the first sign of disappointment. They have learned unashamedly to love: their sons and their families, their work and their world, because they know, from the heart, what it is to be loved. Like King Lear, they have learned to curb self-love, and to understand that we can never earn another’s love: it is always a magnanimous gift of grace. In the face of life’s toughness, we discover that becoming vulnerable in this way makes us fully human, and gives meaning and hope to life itself. Churchill put it this way, “We make a living out of what we get. We make a life out of what we give.” I hope that you have made good memories and developed good relationships with peers, Cops, teachers and Rectors. I hope that you move into the wider world ready to lead and to serve. “Home,” the great American poet Robert Frost famously said, “is where, when you go there, they have to take you in.” For those of you who are leaving, I hope that you will always feel that Michaelhouse is an especial place for you, a kind of home if you like. Do not be disappointed when you return because it has changed and you have changed. Go to the Chapel and look at the great stained-glass windows that Ervin Bossanyi created for your inspiration. Look at the figure of the Archangel Michael, God’s Eighth Man. As champion of the Most High, he is a soldier pledged to perpetual battle in cosmic warfare. He is a commanding presence, a powerful frame, and has flashing eyes. His name means, “Who is like God?” and formed the battle cry for all those who were loyal to God, and is, of course, the school motto, “ Quis ut Deus? ” But if you look closely, you will see he is listening, listening for Christ’s word who is “the still point of the turning world”. He fights under the authority of the greatest example of what it means to be a man the world has ever witnessed. Men of Michaelhouse, you have been given the opportunity to meet this face of glory, before which the glamour of this world is but tinsel. You have met the God of Second Chances, the one who will never let you down, will never let you off, but never, never let you go! May you become complete men, men of character and understanding, so that with Michael, your brother-in-arms, you too, can thunder, “ Quis ut Deus? ”

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