A couple of weeks ago, it was my turn to give a Senior School assembly.
This is quite an undertaking. Seven talks in a week (one for every year group). Only seven or eight minutes long so as not to cut into lessons or, far worse, break. A topic broad enough to interest all those different ages, but which can also be tailored to each one.
This time round, I allowed myself the luxury of a “fun” assembly: that is, one without an improving moral impetus. My colleagues have been doing a terrific job of those, leaving me free to roam elsewhere. And roam I did, literally (sort of) and metaphorically (definitely) as I spoke about walking round London.
I introduced some less well-known highlights of our capital. The memorial to have-a-go heroes in Watt’s Cloister (“William Drake: Lost his life averting a serious accident to a lady in Hyde Park whose horses were unmanageable through the breaking of the carriage pole”); the three St Botolph’s churches (without Aldersgate, without Aldgate and without Bishopsgate); and the remarkable James Smith and Sons umbrella shop.
Covertly, though, I was also encouraging people to explore on foot. I talked about how finding your way has become so different with the advent of mobile mapping technology: type in your destination and follow the route. Excellent for getting you to where you want to be, but less excellent for showing you how London fits together.
For that, of course you need a London A-Z. I brought one along as a piece of show-and-tell; I had to explain how to use it, of course. The beauty of the A-Z, I told the rapt audiences, is that it shows you all sorts of ways to get to places, and you can decide for yourself which one to take. You’ll have to look at your map and around you to ensure your arrival, and in so doing you’ll pass – if you take the time to look – untold wonders. Having tried out this last-century technology on some willing Year 12s, we decided it still worked, as long as you knew your alphabet and realised that the pages read west to east, or left to right.
On your way into central London, I urged: get off a tube stop or two early and stroll round Bloomsbury or Russell Square. Drop into the nearby British Museum and get an eye-and brain-full of my favourite exhibit, the Rosetta Stone (you would expect nothing less of a linguist).
Of course, this doesn’t apply only to central London. I also eulogised about Paris, my favourite capital city, with its spiralling arrangement of arrondissements, ripe for pedestrian perusal.
I could also have talked about North London – which is where The Message comes in. All good assemblies have one. Mine for the pupils was very simple: go out and enjoy your city, perhaps with an A-Z rather than a mapping app. Mine for you, for onward transmission to your children is slightly different: enjoy the benefits of walking.
If you drop or pick up your child near Dyne House or Charter Building, a little while ago you may well have received a leaflet from an early-rising member of our Environment Committee, politely asking you not to (if possible: we know it isn’t always). I know you’re all familiar with the reasons for reducing traffic in and around school so I’m not going to reprise them: this is not a “don’t do this, do do that” communiqué.
Instead, I’ll carry on extolling the virtues of walking. I walk to school every day. Admittedly it’s not much of an undertaking, perhaps seven minutes at most, but in that time I take in the chatter of children, birdsong, an invigorating burst of chilly air on a crisp and frosty morning, a chat with a colleague – none of which I’d experience from the seductive warmth and comfort of the car.
I’m not suggesting everyone should walk to school every day (though don’t let that stop you, and a big bravo to those who do – including those who take public transport and then walk the rest of the way). But if you are a driver, consider encouraging your child to walk at least some of the journey, perhaps the last ten or fifteen minutes, once a week.
Think of it as the ambulatory equivalent of Meat-Free Monday: a relatively effortless and pain-free way to reduce your carbon emissions and experience something different. (Don’t believe what your children tell you: the vegetarian options are tasty, plentiful and yes, it is perfectly possible to get all the protein you need without feasting on flesh).
And who knows? They may even get the taste for it. Walking, I mean. But perhaps also veggie lasagne. Win win.
About the author Adam Pettitt, Head Adam has been Head of Highgate since 2006. He was previously Head of Modern Languages at Abingdon School and then Deputy Head at Norwich School. He read French and German at university and continues to teach both subjects to Y9 pupils at Highgate. Beyond work, Adam enjoys running marathons and is a recent convert to inter-railing.
