I came away from that lunch both surprised and impressed that a boy of, at best, 14 years should have already acquired this degree of conversational skill and precocious consideration for others. I soon learnt, however, that this form of conversation — open, kind, curious — was typical of Wykehamists; and over time, I learnt how effectively some of our most distinctive practices (Div and House-dining foremost among them) cultivated it.
I am happy to say that Wykehamists today continue to be accomplished conversationalists: not in the trivial sense of filling in awkward silences, but rather as young people cultivated to be curious, to listen and to seek new perspectives. Lunch up to House is one of the joys of a Headmaster and conversations in my first term have ranged across geopolitics, the design of jet engines, remedies for social and political polarisation, the breeding of exotic cockroaches, various sporting contests and why all pupils should be required to learn Latin or Computer Science, or singing or golf (depending on the speaker).
Some of my most memorable conversations have been with our newest pupils, particularly those who have just entered VIth Book. When asked what they are enjoying most, they have, without exception, volunteered the quality of teaching, remarking how it pushes them beyond the bounds of the curriculum or the expectations of examiners, and how it is taken for granted that they will share the passions of the historians or mathematicians or artists or linguists (et cetera) for their discipline.
For many this is a new and inspiring experience. One boy told me that he had come from a school where no-one was interested in learning (or, perhaps, dared to reveal their interest), and he had felt totally isolated from his peers. ‘I thought I was the only one, and then I came here and discovered that everyone was like me.’ (His shining eyes and broad smile have stayed with me.)