In assembly in the Cathedral this morning, Development Director Jonathan Pearson spoke to pupils and staff about the importance of being generous of spirit and the school's founding principle of doing the right thing. You can read his address here:
A very good morning to you. My name is Jonathan Pearson, and I am the School’s Development Director. You may remember me from my Remembrance Day address last year.
Amongst other things, the school’s Development Office looks after our former pupils, the ONs. Therefore, you are most likely to come across me as you are leaving or have left school. I look forward to meeting you all one day.
I am an ON myself, leaving school in 1987. When I joined Norwich School, we still wore caps, called each other by our surnames and I can still remember the exact number of computers, laptops and tablets the school possessed when I joined: it was precisely zero. A great technical innovation arrived in my fourth form with the installation of a pay-phone on the steps leading to the Crypt by the school bell. Go find it. It is still there, a pre-historic museum relic.
On leaving school, I read modern languages at Durham University, and I have always revelled in language and literature, so I wanted to share a French story with you this morning. It was written by master of the short story genre, Guy de Maupassant, in 1883 and it is called La Ficelle, translated as ‘The Piece of String’. We all appreciate the importance of generosity and kindness in our lives, but this is a timeless and decidedly cautionary tale from France. This is the summary:
It is an important day in the French town of Goderville. Our hero, wily old farmer Monsieur Hauchecorne is taking his livestock to market amidst a throng of farmers from the surrounding areas. People and animals are everywhere.
Walking along, Monsieur Hauchecorne sees a little piece of string in the mud on the road and, a life-long miser, he thinks he might make use of it in future, and he bends down to pick it up. As he does so, he notices that his arch enemy staring at him, neighbouring farmer Maître Malandain. Overcome with acute embarrassment, he quickly pockets the string, and Monsieur Hauchecorne acts as if he were searching for some dropped coins before moving off.
Later that morning, news comes from the town crier that someone has lost his wallet containing 500 francs and offering a reward for its safe recovery.
Over a hog roast at the village pub at lunchtime, Monsieur Hauchecorne is enjoying his meal reflecting on a successful morning’s trading, when two police officers summon him to the Chief of Police. Immediately the chief accuses him of stealing this wallet with its valuable contents. Monsieur Hauchecorne is affronted and strongly protests: “Not guilty”, he shouts. “What proof do you have of this ridiculous accusation?” The police chief replies: “Sir, we have a sworn affidavit from your neighbour Maître Malandain saying that he clearly saw you pick up the wallet and hide it about your person.”
“That is absurd”, roars Hauchecorne. “I never did such a thing. I only picked up a small piece of string. Search me to prove it. I have the string right here”, as he brandishes the string. The chief is highly sceptical, but, finding no evidence to the contrary, is forced to release him. News of this is quick to circulate.
As Monsieur Hauchecorne is widely disliked, he spends the rest of the day in furious denial, defending his honour, but losing valuable sales. On his return to his home village, the news has preceded him, and he again feels compelled to protest his innocence in violent argument time and time again.
On the fourth day, the wallet is found elsewhere, and all appears well. “Ha,” crows Hauchecorne. “I told you. It’s been found and I had nothing to do with it. It was just a piece of string all along”. But villagers remain unconvinced. They know he’s a slippery old skinflint. “I bet he pocketed the reward or was involved somehow”, they mutter, and rumour refuses to die down.
Frantic to preserve his reputation, Monsieur Hauchecorne ceaselessly protests his innocence, telling literally everyone he comes across of his impeccable honour, with convoluted stories about how it was a huge misunderstanding and how he had just picked up a bit of string etc. But by now, the whole charade sounds frankly implausible; the more he remonstrates, the less he is believed
All this obsession and worry quite wears Monsieur Hauchecorne down. The incident took place in the autumn and by winter he is beginning to lose his health and his wits. Shortly after Christmas he takes to his bedchamber. Broken-hearted and on his death bed, he is still protesting to his last breath: “Look here it is. It was just a piece of string all along … only a little piece of string”.
So, that is Guy de Maupassant’s story in a nutshell. The moral is not especially subtle: Hauchecorne has a poor reputation for being mean of spirit and, despite evidence to the contrary, people still believe the worst of him, leading to an unhappy and untimely end. He has a string of bad luck, one could say!
What is this assembly driving at? Well, the story clearly indicates uncharitable behaviours to avoid. So, what kind of school do we want to be? I ask, as it is you who sets today’s school culture. Our founding fathers back in the 11th Century established Norwich School to provide charitable education in the shadow of Norwich Cathedral to deserving local boys, and we are 21st century heirs to those same principles of love, compassion and inclusivity.
I hope you recognise Norwich School as a welcoming place, taking pride in charitable endeavours and a force for good: community service; Charities Committee collecting for the needy; cultural activities open to all-comers; outreach work with local state schools and organisations doing good in the city and so on.
The other aspect of the work I do here at school is to raise awareness and funds for bursaries. This is where the school assesses financial need amongst parents and provides monetary help where there is real need. We don’t make a big fuss of it, as it is a sensitive topic, but there are a number among you today who are able to be here because of the generosity of those bursaries. Why do we do this? Because it is the right thing for us as a charitable school to do. Unlike mean old Monsieur Hauchecorne, we strive at all times to be inclusive and generous spirited. We aspire to a community where pupils attend because of inherent talent and not just the ability of their parents to afford school fees. Thus, a diverse school community is enriched for us all here.
So, one day when you are middle-aged, perhaps my successor will knock on your door and ask if you wish to contribute to bursary support here, thus passing on the gift of a Norwich School education to the next generation.
I hope you feel I have not been stringing you along this morning, but you have enjoyed a little glimpse into my work here. If you see me round school, do have a chat if I have touched on anything of interest to you today. By the way, the famous Scottish philosopher, Billy Connolly has a definition of meanness, that if you accidentally dropped a 10p piece, would you bend down so quickly to retrieve it that the coin would hit the back of your neck first?
I close in the words of my former biology teacher, John Fisher, who retired from here in 2020: “If you have been, thanks for listening”.