CCHS

When in the lower sixth, I was persuaded to take part in the English Speaking Union’s annual schools competition.  We had to have a team of three:  a speaker; chairman and proposer of the vote of thanks.  Miss Wiggins, the head of the English department, took charge of coaching us, and decided I should be the chair, as I had “presence” and could “keep control” - although I would need to do something with my “unruly hair”!

 

On the evening of the competition, each speaker would work with the other two people from an opposing team.  All the chair and proposer were told beforehand was a brief resume of the speaker we would be working with, and the subject of his/her speech.  The team who were given our speaker struck lucky:  “Are Love’s Labour’s Lost on the Adolescent, in a World Manipulated by the Mass Media?”  All self-evident (and considerably ahead of its time, as this was back in 1974).  The young man I would be introducing was to speak on “A Different Kind of Failure”.  What to do?

 

Miss Wiggins told me I should announce his name and the title of his speech, and then declare, “He is well-suited to discuss this”.  I was not convinced that was a good idea, and queried the matter with Miss Wiggins. Surely that would suggest he was a failure?  Miss Wiggins, in her inimitable slow and throaty monotone, assured me he would be talking about comprehensive education.  Despite having failed his 11+, and having to attend “only a comprehensive school”, he was now studying for ‘A’ Levels, and hoping to go to university. Did she know something I didn’t?  The letter from the ESU gave only the title:  no mention of education systems.  Miss Wiggins was adamant.  The matter was not open to discussion!

 

On the stage, I duly introduced the speaker.  “His topic this evening is “A Different Kind of Failure”.  He is well-suited to discuss this subject…”. At this point, the audience burst out laughing.  I paused, raised an eyebrow and, once the laughter had ceased, continued, “He is well-suited to discuss this subject, because he is studying …” 

 

The speaker stood and began by explaining he was to talk about the poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins!

 

At the end of the competition, while we awaited the results, Miss Wiggins said nothing about his failure to talk about comprehensive schools, but was less than pleased that I had “not taken it seriously”.  A few minutes later, the judges appeared, and announced they had made their decision.  We won!  The judges commended our speaker - but also commended the “stature” of the chair, who had controlled the audience “impeccably” and “displayed magnificent comic timing”.  Miss Wiggins’s silence was deafening!