Bill Schroder - A Headmaster’s Story : My Life in Education

T he headmaster of Pretoria Boys High School must have known he was taking a risk in asking me to speak at the valediction for the outgoing matriculant class of 2008. After all, Bill Schroder is known to be a cautious man, and he chose his speakers for this signal event very carefully as he also admits in this page-turner of a book. I mean, he had among his choice of speakers a Nobel Laureate and a famed Springbok rugby captain and Old Boy to boot who led the country to a world championship. So, asking the outspoken Dean of Education at the University of Pretoria to speak carried considerable risk. Would he criticise the government, already wary of the independent streak of this distinguished public-school headmaster? Would he take on the school over progress on its transformation agenda? And what if he told one of those searing jokes that gets people laughing before he puts in the dagger on some troublesome social issue?

I could almost sense Bills uneasiness as he sat stiffly on the stage in his trademark academic gown while I took the students and the parents through their paces. This is a great school, I reassured the parents on empirical grounds my matriculating son was in the audience and I truly admired how the school had helped make him such a respectful, courteous and confident young man. This is a great school, I said again, but do not get too far ahead of yourselves, for your only contribution to national culture was two hookers. It was something of an inside joke, the playful double meaning of the word referring of course to two great Old Boys who went on to wear the Springbok number 2 jersey (the hooker, in rugby), namely, John Smit and Chiliboy Ralepelle. As the audience roared with laughter, I stole a quick glance backwards to check on Bills health. The poor principal sat stone-faced in his depressingly dark gown.

Thankfully the incident did not jeopardise our relationship, and over time I would come to regard Bill as a good friend and confidant for a simple reason: I respect a solid principal. As you read this book, you will find those qualities jumping off the page: his deep humility, wisdom in the face of difficult choices, courage in the face of the often petty power of bureaucrats in government departments of education, and an absolute passion for teaching and leading the youth of our country.

These qualities mattered in particular because Bill was one of those principals who was required to lead on both sides of 1994 under apartheid and after apartheid. He was there as a leader when the school had to decide whether to remain a whites-only school (Model A, it was called) or take charge of its admissions policy and open the doors of learning to all our children (then the Model C option). Bill understood that welcoming black and white students into his school meant building more hostel accommodation options, for enrolment would inevitably rise. At the same time, he led the charge with regards to fundraising even as he persuaded more conservative elements that expanding opportunities was the right thing to do.

No doubt the wisdom Bill unconsciously dispenses in this book comes from working as a leader in so many different schools around the country, from wealthy schools to co-ed and single-sex boys schools to ordinary public schools to struggling township schools. His leadership in education would touch countless lives, from Cape Town and George to Pretoria and Soshanguve. In the process Bill amassed a wealth of knowledge and wisdom that flows from each carefully narrated story in this gift he leaves us.

I have no doubt that this exciting book (I read the manuscript in one sitting), while not intended to be didactic in any way, will come to be regarded as an excellent guidebook for anyone considering leading a school in South Africa, whether as a principal, deputy principal, head of department or simply a teacher leader. Prospective leaders will find in this book lessons about character and culture. Read carefully and you will learn how to deal with questions of identity and diversity. You will find insights about how to balance respect for the authority of officials in government while knowing when to take a stand on beginsel , that beautiful Afrikaans word for principle. Most important, you will learn how to serve young people with a sense of discipline that at the same time is flexible and forgiving when students you lead express what Bill usefully calls moral courage when erring. In the soft teaching of the book, Bill reminds us through personal example that all of us have feet of clay.

Bill Schroder lived his values through his leadership, and one event in particular remains stuck in my mind. The valediction service over, we were invited to the headmasters home on the school property for a light meal. My son was invited to accompany other guests to the event, where we were greeted in the passage by a much more relaxed Bill Schroder. Mikhail, said Bill, take off your school blazer. I was stunned by the instruction; as parents, we did not even tell our young adolescent how he was bound to dress. But since we were still on the school grounds, I was bound to respect the authority of the headmaster. Mikhail dutifully took off his jacket and then the unthinkable happened. The headmaster gave my son a glass: Here, have a beer. School was now behind him; my son was an adult and a school honour was being bestowed.

It is this sense of tradition, which builds respect in a school culture, that I really admired about Bills alertness to the past even as he shaped his boys for a changing country. He was a woke principal, as todays youth might call it, someone concerned as much with social justice as academic excellence. Bill teaches, through the pages of this book, that change involves keeping the best of the traditions of one of the centurions among South African high schools (Pretoria Boys High was founded in 1901) while seeking to transform less helpful traditions such as initiation. It is the case, as he says in the book, that changing traditions, good or bad, is difficult in traditional schools (or universities, I might add). Thankfully, Bill is also led by the wisdom captured in Reinhold Niebuhrs beautiful prayer, which seeks from the Almighty the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

One tradition of Pretoria Boys would stay with me forever. I was visiting the school for the first time and drove up the long, winding road to the elevation from where you entered the magnificent building that takes you to the principals office. Our democracy was still new, and at the time I still maintained a healthy dose of caution about white South Africans. I stepped out of the parked car and, suddenly, from all sides, a number of white boys came running towards me. For a moment, I was perplexed and thought the worst. The first boy came screeching to a halt right in front of me, greeting me crisply Good morning, sir! and then turned on his heels to continue on his original path. One after another, individual boys came to greet the stranger on the premises. It was an emotional moment and a timely insight into one of the best traditions of our public schools. I also knew that this did not happen by accident but was a consequence of the kind of leadership I have come to associate with the quiet example of Bill Schroder, who reveals so much about himself in this disarmingly honest book.