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Painting by Nina Gutorova U6

Traveller

Talbot Heath MAGAZINE 2015

A journey through time in the eyes of a Talbot Heath pupil Illustration by Evie Holloway U3 2

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Traveller

FROM THE

LETTER EDITORS By NATASHA RUBINS and KATIE KIRK Looking through the Talbot Heath archives is an interesting experience. Omitting the many advertisements for secretarial college, you cannot help but be struck by an amazing sense of community; of inside jokes, individual letters from past and present pupils alike, and many hidden stories between the words on the page. The magazine has survived through two world wars with the same amount of hockey criticism, school trip news and satirical humour throughout. These are a few of our favourite snippets which primarily come from the ‘Jottings’ section of the magazine:

When we were beginning to compile the different sections for this magazine, we struggled to think of ideas for articles about the future. To tackle this problem we decided to see what the wider school community thought of the future and set off in search of willing (and somewhat concerned) participants. What we found out far exceeded our expectations; while many pupils and teachers thought there would be improvements in technology as well as it becoming more incorporated into school life, many also expressed a concern that there would be more wars and greater extremes in terms of the distribution of wealth. It was also interesting that there was often hesitancy in answering the questions across all ages; showing how difficult it is to predict the future. This certainly reminded us that we can never guarantee the future, but by learning from the past and doing the best we can in the present, we can definitely make a difference.

Great curiosity has been around this term by the information that one hair slide was charged to the governors’ account at the end of last term. The question is what use can one hair slide be to so many governors? Do they all wear it in turn, or is it the private property of one special governor? The mystery still remains unsolved but we are anxiously waiting for this term’s account for further development. July, 1917

We hope that this magazine will become as much a part of the school’s history as all the past magazines have. It’s definitely been an experience creating it and we’re grateful for all the help we’ve received. A special thank you to Mrs Harty for letting us take over the library every Wednesday break and all the support she’s given us and the committee – thank you for distracting the committee discussion about Doctor Who and Harry Potter to allow us to discuss the magazine somewhat as well.

The prediction that the member of VIA form will end their days in a convent or prison has caused widespread interest. We, for our part, do not expect the convent idea to materialise, but heartily endorse the alternative. March, 1920 VIA form are warned as to the danger of coming to school without skirts in this cold weather. April, 1924

Thanks for asking me to mediate; congratulations on the finished result, all your own work – Mrs Harty

WANTED, a General Servant for the Lower Sixth Form. Owing to the arduous work involved, a considerable remuneration will be offered. Anyone considering themselves suitable to the post should apply to the Upper Sixth. July, 1903 We fear that B.H.S lacks originality; the usual response to the stern “Why are you late?” is a passionate accusation against the Corporation Tramways. This seems very unfair. Any new excuses will be gratefully received. December, 1919

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CONTRIBUTORS MAGAZINE CONTRIBUTORS

OUR MAGAZINE TRIP TO COSTA

MISSING KATIE THE ONE WHERE KATIE TRIPPED UP ON THE WAY TO THE CAMERA

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Traveller

THE PAST

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The diary of Doris LacyFlower Monitress for Form II, Talbot Heath School 1895 Evie Holloway U3P From Bournemouth High School magazine, Winter 1895, news of the Decoration Societies: “Form II takes great pride in its room, which does it much credit. The decoration is carried on by the ‘Sunshine Society’, of which Evelyn Keep is Treasurer and Dora Atkin, Secretary. The Committee. . .reappointed Doris Lacy as Flower Monitress but we fear her work is at times left to others.”

flower monitress again, and Maude was evidently displeased. Her ambitious nature is very strong, and she knows that I will fervently contradict any of her suggestions at meetings. I am forever forgetting my duties. I hurriedly apologise to Mabel, promising to remember in future. In Latin, I struggle my way through Miss Broad’s enthusiastic repetition sessions, and manage to complete my essay on the usage of art materials in time for break. I am forever wracking my brains as to the location of the lost studies rota. It took poor Dora two entire lunchtimes to draw up! After break the form and I hurry off to Geography, where I sit next to Connie Lankester. She gives me a smile, which is a pleasant greeting, as we remove our textbooks from our bags and prepare to read page twenty-eight, paragraph four, subsection IV, on the consequences of agriculture in marshes. It is extremely tedious as we then have to copy it all down into our exercise books, and if we miss one word Miss deVere White will be very cross. I hurriedly scribble it down just as the bell rings for English.

It has to be here somewhere. I rummage down deeper into my satchel, feeling my fingers brush against all sorts of nondescript items from long-forgotten days. I dig deeper, and connect with the ink pot, sending a sputter of glistening ink drops all over my blouse. I continue to dawdle down the corridor, laces dragging, weaving all over the place with my head in my bag. My feelings of urgency change to unease. What would Miss Daisy say? Oh, and Dora would be quite simply horrid to me, as she does so protect her paperwork! Why did I have to lose everything?

I am pleased to have Miss Daisy for English. She appreciates my love of the subject and praises my pieces, especially my poetry. Once she commended my poem ‘The Seashore’ to the entire form, saying how beautifully it illustrated the feel of the relaxing waves. It is very soon approaching lunchtime, and I quickly finish off my punctuation exercise. I go to lunch, and, after attempting to enjoy my chicken pie, I run, sick with worry, back to my locker. I proceed to rummage around until, finally, my worries evaporate as I spot a familiar sheet of paper. I hurry off with haste to find Dora, who gives me a relieved smile before filing it carefully away. I would dreadfully hate to be secretary. I cannot organise things for toffee.

I eventually reach the door of Form II and step nervously inside. I know that Evelyn will not be happy. I have already lost the form ten pence for untidiness and, as of yet, they have not earned it back. Evelyn is so finicky about the poor amount of money we do have. Everyone is seated, writing various things down in their jotters. Miss Daisy is seated at her desk at the front of the class, and gives me an exasperated glance as she motions with her hand to the time on the clock. I hang my head as I trudge off to my seat and Maude and Edith shoot me ungrateful glances. Maude fancies herself as the new chairperson of the ‘Sunshine Society’, and she detests me, purely because I am the only one letting the form down.

The last two lessons, French and Music, go almost in a flash. Maude excels at both subjects, and goes so far in music as to complain to Miss DeVere White that my complete tone-deafness makes it incapable for her to work in a group with me!

After form period is over, and we all hurry off to Latin, I am immediately pestered by Mabel, the hymn-book monitress, asking why the geraniums on the hymn book shelf are wilting. I almost slap myself for forgetting. I was recently reappointed

But I, for once, do not protest, as the day was altogether quite satisfactory and I can go to sleep on happy thoughts. Evie Holloway U3P

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The Essay Mary Andreen - TH 1942-48

Chicken or egg? Am I a “tree person” (rather than a beach lover) because I spent my schooldays in the beautiful wooded grounds of Talbot Heath, or was I always more at home among trees and that trait contributed to my enjoyment of school?

Bournemouth’s “given” amenity were dismissed as the outdated nimbyism to be expected of an old, third-generation Bournemouth woman. This unexpected concern of mine for our coast, made me wonder if I had unconsciously retained some sense of civic responsibility from the time in my first year at Talbot Heath when Miss Lee entered some of us into the Civic Essay Competition, which we won, as a team, and had a shield to prove it engraved with our names and displayed on the wall above the window into the gym, in the main hall. At least, the other members of the team had their names on the shield, but whenever I visited school, until very recently, I was reminded of the complications which so often arose from my unusual Swedish surname.

Whenever I have lived further inland (Abingdon, Durham, Ely) and new acquaintances have learnt that I hail from Bournemouth, I have been asked, “Don’t you miss the sea, terribly?” The answer is, “No, I miss the New Forest more.” I confess that even in its sunniest mood, the vast impersonality of the sea can be depressing for me and the unrelenting ebb and flow of the tide seems to contain an element of menace.

My name was Mary Andreen (never mind the accent grave on the first ‘e’ – I never bothered) and the first time the shield went up on the wall, I was named, “Mary Andrews”. I pointed out the mistake, as did Miss Lee, the shield was taken down and returned to the engravers, only to come back with the name, “Mary Arden” (a respectable, Shakesperean name, but not mine.) When the matter was raised again, it was decided (by whom?) that it would have to do, as the shield could not be taken down again or the inscription altered a second time. The shield has now been removed and its whereabouts are not known.

Whenever my husband and I came back to Bournemouth for a holiday and to visit our families, we always had one day out by the sea, which he loved, having been a keen Sea Scout, and one on a pub walk in the New Forest to keep me happy. So I rather surprised myself when the monstrous Imax cinema started to rise on the site of the Pier Approach Baths, which had been designed as a low-rise building with its shallow, Mediterraneanstyle roof which didn’t obstruct the view across the bay to Old Harry Rocks as one came down Bath Hill, or walked through the Gardens to the Pavilion.

It was all a long time ago and I must finally conquer the sin of pride for which I have rebuked myself over the years, whenever I looked up and saw the Civic Shield on which I am not properly acknowledged. Everyone has forgotten Miss Lee’s class ‘C’ of ’43 and I must, too.

Month by month, as we approached the Lucullus Restaurant for our William Temple Association dinners, the scaffolding round the Imax building rose higher and we caught our last glimpses of that inspiring view, from behind bars, in spaces which would soon be filled with a solid grey concrete cliff face, topped, finally, with concrete “waves” “in order to preserve the ambience of the coastline” which we had lost.

I have indeed forgotten what on earth I wrote about, as I can’t remember having had any interest in civic affairs at that time, but perhaps whatever aspect of our town I chose, planted the seed of my caring so deeply about how we use and enjoy its natural beauty, rather than abusing it for perceived commercial gain. So, Thank you, Town Fathers of Bournemouth, for inaugurating the Civic Essay competition, even if you did spell my name wrongly on the commemoration shield.

I even wrote to the Bournemouth Daily Echo offering to subscribe the cost of a package holiday abroad in some seaside resort in, say Spain, to help fund the demolition of the Imax and restore our own seaside to its natural beauty. My letter was not printed, and others protesting against the destruction of

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A Moment in Time Dr Susan Read, MBE, FRCN - TH 1952-59

Fawn Lisle Stockings In 2015 we are celebrating the 70th Anniversary of VE Day. This is Sue Read’s reminiscence of her time at Talbot Heath, still in the shadow of the War, even though she was here in the 50s.

These stockings (made by Brettles) were very thick, and a horrible shade that made one’s legs look like two lengths of rather wrinkled liver sausage! I have a really clear memory of returning to school that September, sitting in the front seat on the top deck of a yellow trolley bus, with another friend from Southbourne, with our legs stretched out in front of us, and grumbling loudly “fawn lisle stockings”!

During and after World War Two clothes were rationed between 1941 and 1949 because importing from overseas was restricted to wartime essentials, and because garment manufacturing in the UK had to concentrate primarily on providing uniforms for the forces and other essential workers. Also the labour force was depleted due to women being diverted from traditional occupations like working in the garment trade, to war related manufacture such as armaments and ammunition, and to essential occupations such as joining the Land Army.

I suppose we got used to them, and within a year or two, the lisle monstrosities were superseded by a really modern innovation – crepe nylon stockings! But this followed an awkward period when the wealthier pupils wore crepe nylons, which seemed astronomically expensive, whilst those of us from humbler backgrounds, often on “free places” from scoring highly in the “eleven-plus” examination, struggled on with the awful wrinkly lisle monstrosities! So current pupils, who may sometimes chafe against strict uniform regulations, spare a thought for your predecessors of 60 years ago!

Although I do not have any documentary evidence, I understand that at Talbot Heath, during this period of restriction, regulations about “legwear” were relaxed so that short or long socks were worn, according to the season, by all the pupils, rather than stockings, which had been customary before rationing began. So when I joined the school at the age of eleven, in 1952, I wore socks throughout that first year. It therefore came as quite a bombshell to be told that from September 1953, all in the senior school had to wear fawn lisle stockings – held up of course, by a suspender belt!

Sue Read

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1935

Chemistry Lab

1935 1935

SE Tower

OLD

Dormitory

OLD new

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Traveller

ELEANOR NESBITT

TH 1961

Eleanor Nesbitt is a past pupil of Talbot Heath who has gone on to achieve many things in her life; including becoming a Professor at Warwick University and a published author of many novels. Some of her novels include: ‘Sikhism: A Very Short Introduction’, ‘Intercultural Education: Ethnographic and Religious Approaches’ and ‘Guru Nanak’. She kindly agreed to be interviewed.

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What profession did you want to be in when you were in school?

chance to see much more of the school. I was sad when I realised that 'my' pond had been filled in, but delighted to be back in the library which I had always loved.

This may sound odd, but I was so focused on getting to Cambridge (which I had fallen in love with when my parents took me there aged 8) that I didn't actually have a profession in mind, as far as I remember. I just focused on passing my exams. I'd have been quite surprised if I'd been told that I was going to qualify as a school teacher and even more surprised if anyone had suggested that I'd end up as a professor in a university.

Why did you choose to specialise in Hinduism and Sikhism in particular? That was because my first teaching job was in North India in the 1970s. Most of my pupils' families were originally from Punjab and most were either Hindu or Sikh. Although I had studied religion at university I knew nothing about Sikhs and almost nothing about Hindus. My two and a half years in India gave me opportunities to visit wonderful temples and to experience festivals. Then, when I returned to the UK, I was given a teaching job in Coventry, providing extra English classes for students who spoke another language at home. Many of them too were Hindus and Sikhs, and I was keen to know about their experience in a setting as different as Coventry was from India.

What inspired you to go into writing? I was always, as far back as I remember, fascinated by words. Putting them together as poems was a hobby from the age of about seven. The fact that my mother read lots of books to me as a child must have contributed to my love of books. As an adult, when I came across other people who wrote poetry we encouraged each other. Later on, writing was a vital part of my job as an academic, mainly writing articles that reported pieces of research that I'd been carrying out.

Do you have any advice for young girls aspiring to be involved in writing?

How do you remember a typical day in Talbot Heath?

Do read as much as you can. Send in entries to literary competitions. There are plenty that ask for poems or short stories. Write for magazines. In my day there was one called 'Young Elizabethan' - and of course there was the excellent Talbot Heath magazine! Join (or start) a group of friends who are all keen to write and ready to share what they write with each other. It's helpful to have friendly praise and suggestions for improving what one's written.

That's a hard question as the days were all different. For instance, typical winter days seemed to start with my fingers getting more and more numb with cold on the way to school. I have fond memories of more summery days when, during the lunch break, my friend and I explored the woodland and investigated the pond. (We especially liked the newts.) I remember joining my friends at the packed lunch table too. School days consisted mainly, I suppose, of sitting at our desks, listening to the teacher, and they were followed by hours of homework at home in the evening.

What are your ambitions for the future? My ambitions are very simple - just to carry on being able to spend time with my family and friends, to meet new people and to carry on writing.

What are some of your most striking memories from your time in Talbot Heath? One April Fools Day I arranged with a friend to have long cotton threads tied to my two plaits. The threads were then looped over the ceiling light (I think). My friend sat behind me in the Latin lesson and held onto the ends of the threads. She suddenly pulled them so that my plaits lifted into the air. Our teacher looked bemused. More seriously, I remember taking part in carol services by reading one of the lessons and also going to Southampton (I think) for Greek and Latin reading competitions. I remember, too, the two days in the 'Third year Sixth' that I heard that I had won my scholarships to Oxford and Cambridge.

From your recent visit to Talbot Heath, how do you feel the school has changed? The school felt like a more colourful, more relaxed place. Certainly the dining room and corridors were much brighter than when I was a pupil all those years ago. I didn't get the

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Traveller

A TRAVEL TIME-CAPSULE Fiona Taylor TH 1953-1961

Travel. The very word conjures up myriad thoughts of mystery, discovery, romance, exotic food, pleasure and enjoyment but can then descend to the mundane: packing, airports, docks, train stations, customs and immigration and all the attendant frustrations of today's world.

Perth, Melbourne and Sydney before finally landing in Auckland. After spending 4 months with my sister and other family members, we sailed back home via Tahiti, the Panama Canal, Jamaica, Florida and Bermuda. I had circumnavigated the globe! The travel bug had bitten me and I've never recovered. Even though I have almost no personal photos, I vividly remember the sights, sounds and even smells of those places. When I started working as a dancer in 1963, my first job was at a theatre in Madrid. I went first to Paris, then by train to Madrid - a 24 hour trip on my own, as I was taking another girl's place. I knew no Spanish, there were no sleeper seats and I had to change trains at the French/Spanish border because, in those days the track gauges were different. A few months later, I was sent to Munich for a similar contract, again travelling alone to meet up with the group: I didn't speak German either but I muddled through!

It was not always so: travel was much simpler and less fraught with danger. A few weeks ago, I was preparing to celebrate my 70th birthday and decided to set up a timeline and memory boards with personal photos, so that my family and friends could share some of the events in my life. As I rummaged through boxes of photographs, albums, press clippings and the like, it felt akin to opening a time capsule and memories came flooding back. So much of my life has been spent on the road and I have had the great good fortune to work in and visit scores of countries.

Fortunately, my next job was for a year, working with a group of 12 girls. During that time, we performed in Switzerland, Spain, Italy, Libya, Lebanon and Iran: I also took a flight for the first time - no security checks then. Obviously, in today's world, the last three countries would not appear on a dancer's itinerary! I found them fascinating, but a return visit for me is sadly not likely.

When I left Talbot Heath in 1961 at the age of 16, I went with my mother by ship to New Zealand to visit my older sister. The outward voyage took six weeks: we visited Port Said, Aden, Bombay (where my brother was working at the time), Colombo,

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I continued working as a dancer for over a decade, adding more countries to my list: Portugal, Greece, France, Monaco and Canada. I was eventually promoted to a management role: I was put in charge of a troupe that spent several months a year in Japan, Singapore and Thailand. Seeing Tokyo for the first time was unforgettable. Though I go back to Japan every year on business even today, the memorabilia I found in my archives brought back memories of the city the way it was, not how it is today. To have such memories is priceless.

In 1974, I returned to England for a few months before embarking on the next stage of my life, my move to California, subsequent marriage and a new career in biotechnology. The travel did not stop, however: it just followed different paths as I had many international clients. My husband was a musician who also travelled extensively: more photos and memories emerged from the time capsule. Eventually, in addition to my own work, I took on the management of my husband's music group after his death in 1996.

Before I retired from performing, I spent the last two years exclusively in Far Eastern countries, including Malaysia, Indonesia and Borneo in addition to Japan. I found long-forgotten photos, including one of me draped with a huge viper: I remembered that was near Penang at a snake temple. Others showed temples in Bangkok, shrines in Kyoto, street markets in Singapore and statues in Djakarta. As I looked at them, my mind flashed back to the people I knew and worked with, the venues where we danced, the happy times and the occasional problems, usually health-related: being in isolation hospital in Paris with German Measles, coming down with Hepatitis A in Beirut, having to visit an army doctor in Indonesia who gave me a diagnosis that sent me running out of the door as fast as I could! (He was wrong). Other memories surfaced, some related to local customs in the various countries including bribery, not something with which I had had prior experience!

The last batch of photographs was more recent: Argentina, my first visit to South America; Mexico, my preferred vacation spot; river cruises and visits to Europe. My oldest and dearest friend Celia Wood, a classmate at Talbot Heath who now runs the Chronicle, whom I met more than 50 years ago, travels with me on occasion and we have our own time capsule of memories. People ask me how I can possibly remember dates so well. I believe it's because I can tie them to the places I have visited throughout my life. Travel has given me an embarrassment of riches and scores of locations that I can revisit in my mind whenever I choose to do so: it's my own mental time capsule.

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Lucy Avissar Talbot Heath 1976-1978

I attended Talbot Heath from the middle of year 5 to the end of year 7. My first memory of Talbot Heath was attending the entrance examination. Having come from a local state school, it was the first time I had come across times tables, or writing a 'paragraph' although it was not to be the last.

Our headmistress was a severe lady called Miss Austen-Smith. I don't remember her smiling ever. If we needed to see her for any reason, we had to wait outside her office until the red light turned green and we were allowed to enter - not a place you ever really wanted to be.

My first teacher in Form 2 (now Year 5) was Miss Nightingale, an eccentric lady who we all thought was rather batty but very kind. She tasked us with collecting wild flowers each weekend and bringing them in to display on the window sills on a Monday morning. While I thrived under Miss Nightingale, my younger sister, Katy, did not. Miss Nightingale thought Katy a very wild child. One day my parents were summoned to see the head mistress on a very important matter regarding Katy. Fearing the worst, they were sat down in the head's office and told that Katy must have psychological problems as she insisted on eating her chocolate penguin with a knife and fork, regardless of Miss Nightingale's threats and tellings off. My father still remembers sitting there and really not knowing whether to laugh or cry at having to discuss this.

Once you hit Senior School, the year was divided into three classes, namely the Plains, the P's and the 2P's (Upper 3 Plain, Upper 3 P, Upper 3 2P). Somehow it always worked that the Plains were the goody-goodies, the P's were rather unusual and the 2P's were the naughty ones.

The teachers were mainly women - most were ancient. Discipline was enforced and there was really no backchat or rudeness at all. We would not dream of not handing our homework in for fear of being told off - which sounds so alien in these days.

Sports was another big aspect of the school, which I enjoyed. I do remember vividly playing hockey on the field and swinging my stick back so hard I hit Miss Philippson- Masters in the eye and she was rushed to hospital. I also remember sliding down a wooden bench in PE and getting a splinter in my backside, having to go up to Matron for a dig around and then having to go to hospital to have it removed humiliating. In fact, the only time I saw the Headmistress's lips turn up slightly was on my return when she saw me and asked if I was feeling better.

My main memory is of playing in the woods and running down the Big Slip. Break time saw us run to our camps in the woods where we spent hours hiding from the other camps. Running down the Big Slip was rather terrifying and must now be considered a H&S risk, but I don't actually remember anyone getting hurt. I do remember a local boy causing much excitement when he periodically somehow managed to drive his car (he must have just passed his test) through the woods - I don't remember ever seeing the car so it may be an urban myth but it gave us all something to talk about!

Another humiliating part of every term was weighing and measuring, when all the skinny girls crowded round the scales to see how much the rest of us had put on since the last term..... The food was rubbish, the tuck shop great. Swimming year round in the pool an experience. The domestic science block had just been built when I started the school and this was very exciting to use.

I remember the indoor and outdoor shoes - we had to wear black shoes to school and then change in to our brown shoes for indoors. Lo behold the person who forgot and wore black shoes all day, or brown shoes to school!

Looking back, I was only at the school for a short time (2 and half years) but I have very happy memories of sunny days playing in the woods (I don't remember it ever raining), of learning to love sports, of eccentric teachers and lovely friends, which have stayed with me right up to today.

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by Sophie Russell, U4

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SENSE Katie Kirk U6 When we were searching through the archives to see what the school was really like, we came across this article written as a 'guide' for sixth formers. As a current member of the Upper Sixth, it was surprising how many of the points still ring true today, (although I'm sure that some of the current survival tactics are a little more ingenious!). While school uniforms and the buildings have evolved over time, the mind of a sixth former certainly hasn't.

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1. Do not, under any circumstances, wander the corridors alone – you never know where gangs of Upper Thirds are lurking.

7. Those of you taking Chemistry ‘A’ level, please note that any excess alcohol, produced by highly complicated and complex experimentation, has to be disposed of. Various methods can be used to carry this out – all in the cause of science, of course!

However, when attempting to sell cakes you will find that these ruffians mysteriously transform into your best friends.

However, be certain to make sure that the aforementioned alcohol is in fact ethanol (not methanol) to prevent more unwanted side effects e.g death

2. Check that the school insurance policy covers industrial accidents before attempting to use the toaster. It is a common phenomenon that any milk brought in to the sixth form kitchen magically disappears, and as such any hot drink enthusiasts would be advised to consider milk-free alternatives.

8. On the subject of writing essays, do include at least one word of more than four letters in length, per sentence. Legibility, like punctuation, is rarely necessary. Whilst constructing an essay, it helps to stress your complete lack of “slang” whilst writing, by crafting superfluous sentences which emphasise, illustrate and accentuate your erudite attitude - FYI TBH JK

Check that you are up to date with any relevant vaccinations before venturing near the kitchen area, as who knows what strains of bacteria may be developing on the rotting remnants of last month's lunch.

9. 3. A higher level of intelligence is expected of you in inventing excuses for not handing in your homework on time. For example: - adopt a suitable expression of supreme sorrow while declaring that your Chemistry prep – for some unknown reason – spontaneously combusted while you weren’t looking and is now beyond all hope of resurrection.

“Free” periods can be spent in –

a) The Library, surrounded by numerous, potentially useless and extremely heavy books, in an effort to appear industrious, while reading backdated copies of “Punch” under the table. b) In the Common Room – a social gathering place for Sixth Formers, where a large number of dubious activities take place.

There are various ways you can prevent the dreaded occurrence of a scheduled test: casually relate your entire sorrowful life story, explaining how this left you with no time to revise for the aforementioned test or enquire after the health of your teacher/their partner/their cat in order to distract them.

Or, c) The local Starbucks- a social gathering place for coffee addicts with no hope of working (although it is important if you wish to choose this option to become very friendly with a sixth former who can drive).

4. Remember to attend the odd lesson every now and then – teachers, like parents, tend to become mildly agitated if you don’t turn up in the right place at the right time.

9. “In examinations the foolish ask questions that the wise cannot answer.” Oscar Wilde.

5. Cold (or early) lunches are a must for any Sixth Former with a high regard for personal safety. Facing a group of hyperactive school children with voracious appetites across the meal table can be a detrimental experience - mentally as well as physically. (Early lunches also have the additional benefits of being both hot and free) Ensure that you are sufficiently early in reaching the Dining room before Friday lunches, the smell of Fish and Chips appears to have the unintentional effect of encouraging those in the lower years to attempt to enter before their designated lunch bell. 6. In the Sixth Form you have the authority to distribute order marks to the lower school. However, some restraint must be exercised when giving out order marks to those bigger than yourself, as power-mad Sixth Formers have a very short life expectancy. (Alas, the only advantage given to Sixth Formers over those in younger years is the tenuous ability to skip the queue at Lunch)

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JENNY HARE Jenny Hare was a pupil of Talbot Heath; she is now an artist, illustrator and writer. Jenny met Eleanor Nesbitt when they went to Talbot Heath together and have collaborated on a children’s book ‘Mango the Marmalade Cat’. Jenny has kindly shared her experiences in life with us.

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What profession did you want to be in when you were in school?

Do you identify as a feminist? Absolutely. There is still a lot of inequality between the sexes and that’s sad. We women are often our worst enemy in that we sometimes denounce each other and don’t appreciate the talents of women as much as men. Why is that? And many women still tend to think they have to please men all the time. Each one of you is, in your own unique way, a brilliant and shining being with your own mix of ability and talent. Seek it out, cherish it, work at it. Be passionate about your life and your individuality. Search out and pay attention to the opportunities. Follow your star with all your heart.

I had no idea! My chief ambition was to get out into the world and earn my living and have fun. My dad hated his job and I vowed I would only ever do work I enjoyed.

What inspired you to begin painting? When I was 40 an artist friend came round for a creative day. She was going to paint and, as by then I was a writer (a journalist, agony aunt and author of self-help books) and counsellor, I’d planned to write. But when I saw her paints I said to her “Hey – could I paint too?” So with her encouragement I got started on my first painting. I’ve kept it ever since – it’s hanging here in my study just now - and if ever I need a shot of inspiration all I need to do is look at it – it’s full of life and energy and enthusiasm!

How do you find inspiration for the paintings that you create? I keep my eyes open all the time. I look for the beauty all around me, often in the simplest most seemingly ordinary things. When I see something interesting or beguiling or fabulous I appreciate it to the full and store it in my memory (or more reliably of course, my camera!)

What do you remember of a typical day in Talbot Heath?

And when I have no inspiration I simply mix a wonderful palette of paints and put them randomly on the paper and see what happens. Something always does . . . It’s the same when I’m writing a book. The muse doesn’t come spontaneously – or at least not always – and when it doesn’t show up on the page I set a canvas and get to work. That way you invite the muse in – and in it comes . . . You hold the key.

The safe, secure feeling of the routine. The bells signalling the end of lessons – sometimes a blessed relief! Running as fast as we could in the corridors if we thought the coast was clear of prefects and teachers. Eating the sticky buns and chocolate marshmallows we could buy in the afternoon.

What are some of your most striking memories from your time in Talbot Heath?

What are your ambitions for the future?

The rare occasions I was praised by a teacher! I understand the teaching today at TH is much more visionary and inspiring. But it was very stern, strict and academic then. The discipline was severe and mostly I was told to try harder, stop daydreaming, stop talking. And negative criticism only made me give up. But oh boy when I was praised I would do anything for that teacher. So throughout my schooldays I would go up and down in the streaming system, depending on who was teaching me. A plea to all current teachers – please encourage, encourage, encourage. My talents didn’t start to shine until I was, in the case of writing in my late 30s and for painting, 40s. Yet looking back they were there all the time but none of the teachers noticed . . . Hey ho – the wait has meant I hugely appreciate them now and I hope always will! And although I kicked against the severity of the discipline, the very thorough and comprehensive education we were given was a sure, firm foundation for life generally and of course we had a lot of fun throughout too – so I’m very, very grateful for all of that and have masses of happy memories of the place itself and the teachers who did help me, and of course my friends.

To paint and paint and paint – getting better, opening up more, not being afraid to be ambitious or a bit wild! And to continue bringing joy through my paintings to as many people as possible and to keep crusading for real paint, real paintings at affordable prices for everyone.

How would you describe your time in journalism? Tremendously fulfilling. It was just so brilliant to have found my true feet and be thought good at something and to know that I was helping, encouraging or inspiring readers.

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Traveller

THE PRESENT 21

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Traveller

Most Inspirational Women in the World Emma Watson According to Tamara Qaddoura Emma Watson is truly one of the most inspirational women I know. She isn't the oldest, but she has already made a huge difference with her achievements. I believe she will do something to help women across the world in the future. Emma Watson has always been extremely talented, featuring in many films at an extremely young age. In addition to this, at 24 years old she made a ground-breaking UN speech for the new campaign, HeForShe. This campaign is about gender equality - it seeks to involve men in the fight for women's rights. She is doing a phenomenal job being the UN Women’s Global Ambassador. I love the passion she has for this cause and how she is proud to say that she is a feminist (just as I am!) Here are two quotes from her speech in the UN but she has said a lot more to inspire many: “When at 15, my girlfriends started dropping out of their beloved sports teams, because they didn’t want to appear muscly, when at 18, my males friends were unable to express their feelings, I decided that I was a feminist.” “I want men to take up this mantle so their daughters, sisters and mothers can be free from prejudice but also so their sons

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have permission to be vulnerable and human, too and in doing so, be a more true and complete version of themselves.” In addition to this she has visited women in Uruguay to encourage their political involvement. She delivered a 4,000 signature petition to the government of Uruguay to fight for women to have a greater political participation in government.

Emma Watson also graduated from Brown University. This may not be seen as something necessarily extraordinary; however, most actors and actresses of her age who reached her level of 'Harry Potter Phenomenon' wouldn't need to continue with their education. Be this because they are already making a living as it is or are too preoccupied with their busy lives. Yet to prove how smart and determined Emma is, she graduated despite her career.

She always speaks out for what she believes in; for example, when hackers were violating celebrities privacy by posting private photos across social media (and even threatened Emma) she responded with this:

Other than the fact that she played Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter movies, who is talented, smart, brave and a feminist just like Emma - she has played many other feminist roles in her films. Everyone will know what an inspiration she is to us all by all her supportive and encouraging speeches; some directly aimed at women feeling insecure. I will always find her one of the most inspirational women in the world because of all she has done for women, and what, I'm sure, she will do in the future.

"Even worse than seeing women's privacy violated on social media is reading the accompanying comments that show such a lack of empathy." In July 2014, Turkey's Deputy Prime Minister Bulent Arinc said that women should have 'chastity' and that they shouldn't laugh in front of everyone. To show how Emma felt she posted a photo of herself laughing to prove that women had that right to laugh.

Oprah Winfrey Oprah is one of the most influential and inspirational women in the world. She made a hugely successful career just by being a compassionate, caring and charitable person. Oprah gained her fame in America through interviewing and being able to emotionally connect with her guests on her talk show; the Oprah Winfrey Show. In 2000, Oprah's Angel Network began presenting a $100,000 "Use Your Life Award" to people who helped improve the lives of others. After selling off some of her clothes, Oprah donated a box full of money—including a $1 million check—to Chicago’s Providence St. Mel School. Then in 2003 she became the first African-American woman to be classed as a billionaire; providing an inspirational role model for women everywhere. Rather than using the money for her own needs, she personally donated $300 million to charities such as: AIDS Foundation of Chicago, Children's Memorial Hospital and the Chicago Academy of the Arts. Her personal investment in helping others goes beyond giving money to charity; she is a kind, compassionate and strong woman, who is making a change to our future with every action of kindness she makes.

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Traveller

Angelina Jolie Angelina Jolie is one of Hollywood's most respected celebrities, but she hasn't always been the most inspirational person. At first she was thought of as reckless and she admitted to many addictive behaviours. However, during a trip to Cambodia in 2001 while filming Lara Croft, she realised how extreme problems were in the world, and she stated that meeting citizens living in this country where war occurs 'opened her eyes'. After seeing how people were suffering in Cambodia, she contacted the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees so she could find out ways in which she could help out, and from then on she has gone from country to country helping those suffering. Soon after a two week trip back to Cambodia and a meeting with Afghan refugees in Pakistan, she was titled UNHCR Goodwill Ambassador and she started to do a lot of humanitarian work. Since receiving this name, she has visited 30 different countries.

Most Inspirational Women in the World

She is a very brave woman, visiting very dangerous areas for the sake of others, focusing mainly on refugees who have been displaced due to conflict. She has been admired by many because of her kindness and bravery. As well as this, she has set up and financed many charity organisations. She founded the

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Maddox Jolie-Pitt Foundation (named after her first son whom she adopted from Cambodia). Angelina and Brad Pitt also donate millions of pounds of their own money each year for charity. In 2009, records showed that this couple gave $7 million to charitable causes.

$14 million which was all given to help fund the Maddox JoliePitt Foundation. She has done many more charity events, visited countries in need and helped those suffering as well as donating and being an amazing inspiration to us all! I think she is already helping to shape the future with all her charitable work as she has proven she is dedicated to helping others.

When their twins, Knox and Vivienne, were born, the couple sold their first images of the babies to 'People and Hello!' for

J.K. Rowling

Her belief is that "anything's possible if you've got enough nerve". Forbes ranked Rowling as the forty-eighth most powerful celebrity of 2007. Time magazine named her as a runner-up for its 2007 Person of the Year; noting the social, moral, and political inspiration she has given her fans. In October 2010, Rowling was named the "Most Influential Woman in Britain" by leading magazine editors.

She started off as a single mother living on benefits and within the space of a few years, became one of the world's most wellknown authors in the world. Multi-millionaire author Joanne "Jo" Rowling is an inspirational woman to millions, who encourages others to follow their dreams. She thought of the idea for the Harry Potter series on a delayed train from Manchester to London in 1990. After 12 rejections from publishers she finally secured a print run of 1,000 copies.

She has supported charities including Comic Relief, One Parent Families, Multiple Sclerosis Society of Great Britain and Lumos (formerly the Children's High Level Group) - which she cofounded. She supports many more charities, being the ambassador of them as well as donating. In this way she is a huge role model for boys, girls, women and men alike, and inspires many to this day by her generosity, kindness and motivational spirit.

The books have gained attention worldwide, won awards, and sold more than 400 million copies. The Harry Potter books have become the best-selling book series in history. They were also the basis for a series of films which became the highest-grossing film series in history. In addition to this, a theme park based on this franchise has been made in Orlando, Florida.

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THE

Traveller

ARTIST

Ellie Gray U6

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She came to me in colour; which for a mere mortal I assume would be nothing out of the ordinary. For this forlorn soul, however, to dream in colour during my deep slumber was a rare and treasured experience.

There has been a longstanding myth that all mankind dream in black and white, but remember in colour. That we use our own imagination to paint in the scenes that were played out before us every night. I, however, no longer experience such a privilege. Cold, bleak spaces haunt the images that flash before my eyes during the light hours, not a single one tainted with any part of the spectrum other than grey. My soul does not resonate with such creativity that the gentleman in Russia spoke of. I am not haunted, my mind does not scare me, nor does my imagination evoke any sense of sadness. Rather, I transcend to a place of nothingness, which I am unable to escape from until brought back to a startling sense of reality.

In seeing her I was taken back to one late summer’s eve, on the Rostokino, where I was ap-proached by a seemingly affable gentleman who took a good few moments to gaze at my canvas. He then came further towards me, placing a gentle, withered hand on my shoulder and whispered with the softest of voices, ‘every artist dips the brush into their soul. You my dear have the most colourful soul of all.’ With that he was gone, his only words, which, although odd at the time resounded in my mind for the many years I travelled through Europe. As I went on, following the path of the great artists who had journeyed before me, I tried to understand just what he meant. Oh, how I wish he spoke the truth.

That was up until now, up until the night I saw her, as she she blew through my mind like the first warm wind of spring. She wore flowers in her hair, of the deepest sunset orange, and carried magic secrets in her eyes, that were greener than the ErlKing’s vellum. She spoke to no one, not even I. Instead, she spent hours on the riverbank below that bridge in Moscow, smoking fuchsia cigarettes and taking midnight swims. I sat upon a stool watching her, painting her. The scenes which usually came to me in black and white, were vibrant and alive. As was she, swimming, bringing the pool of dark condensed river water into a transcending aura of tur-quoise light, which not only sent my mind into a disarray of colour but also the body of paint which was now whirling across my canvas. I knew not her face, nor her name, in fact, neither of which I was interested in. Only the power she possessed to bring colour back into my dull and lonely nights. I felt no affection for her, no sexual attraction or a deep desire to be near her. Instead I just watched, in awe of her light and spirit.

They are captured by my work, I like to step back and appreciate their faces, their eyes, how for those few indisputable seconds their minds washed with the natural everyday worries of human life, become calm. How the lines, shapes and minuscule details I mark down on each blank crisp sheet have the ability and power to transcend time, to take them back to a moment when they had once felt such tranquility. Many see me as the artist and assume that the wonders I create on the canvas are the won-ders that are inspired by what I see every night when I close my eyes, or my imagination as I gaze into the distance. They assume artists possess a characteristic which allows them to express their feelings in the most beautiful of ways.

She seemed to stay in there for hours, the white of her Marilyn swimming costume dipping up and under, taking every piece of my concentration to trace her movements on my page. Finally, as she became tired and left the water, each incandescent drop that fell away from her glittering pale body turned slowly black and the river returned to its lurid shade of grey.

How wrong they are. How I wish that my canvas reflected the thoughts and patterns of my mind, how I wish to see the same beauty when I fall asleep or when I feel emotion. That each brush stroke would communicate the musicality of my soul. But the truth is that for me such marvels do not exist. Sadly the nature of my work is drawn purely from the inspiration I gain when my eyes are open. I do not copy, I do not interfere with nature, but instead offer those who view my art a profound outlook on a world that already exists before them. I use painting as a relief from what I experience every night when I lay down my head, or in those brief moments during the day when I allow my mind to wander. For this creature the vibrant, wonderful world we are a part of does not exist beyond the physical.

Then she departed, clothing in hand, strolling along the river bank, leaving behind a trail of shining blades of grass which were left trembling in her wake. The light which followed her faded away, until all that was left was her shadow clinging to my paintbrush. I screamed for her to return, but all that could be heard was the soft lapping of the water that moved below. Lying amidst the heavy breath of my fellow travellers, I gazed upon a single shaft of light that peered through the nylon curtains shielding my bunk. As the train roared on, in my wakefulness, I remembered her, treasured her and longed for the warmth of colour which she has graced my dreams with to return that very night.

From childhood experience, to dream and imagine is the most freeing experience of all. So why has the ability to do so in colour become a distant memory for me?

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By Nina Gutorova U6

Traveller

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By Nina Gutorova U6 30

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Traveller

VISITING

AUSCHWITZBIRKENAU By Natasha Rubins U6

I recently had the opportunity to take part in the Holocaust Educational Trust's lessons from Auschwitz project in which they give students the opportunity to visit Auschwitz-Birkenau. I didn’t think in detail about my expectations for this trip; because this is not a topic that I like to dwell on, which in itself demonstrated how difficult this visit would be - and how necessary.

reading them from a page in the book – but seeing in a tangible sense, as much we could, the horrors that enfolded. Auschwitz itself seemed like a tiny village with symmetrical buildings. The buildings each contained important dedications to the victims. Each one we shuffled into and walked around in neat, even lines in an attempt to take in all the information we could. The rooms that the most people said they found the hardest to deal with were; the shoes, the hair and the suitcases – which each held their own room. These items were all stacked up in glass boxes and both dehumanised and humanised the victims at the same time. Dehumanised, as each item by being placed together removed the individual identity of the person. However, it was also humanising because the items were so personal - the suitcases demonstrated that the victims packed their possessions with hope they could take it with them, shoes we take for granted as a basic possession and hair is so interminably attached to a person that it’s heart-breaking to see all these items placed on a display. You cannot help but think each strand of hair, each individual shoe – they all deserve their own separate room, their own separate dedication so we can stop using victims of the holocaust as a colloquial term and start seeing every person individually.

We started the trip with a visit to a Jewish cemetery. It was preserved in a state of dilapidation and ruin. The sadness I felt from this wasn’t with the half-standing grave stones, but with the fact that we were told no one knew if there were even any bodies buried here because Nazis dug up graves of Jewish people and treated their bodies in a way no human deserves to be treated. We go to cemeteries and to funerals to pay respects – here we were paying respects to the Jewish people who died at the cemetery from illnesses, natural causes and whatever else they suffered from in life. We were also paying our respects to how they were treated in death and to those who died in concentration camps; who weren’t given even the right to a proper burial place.

One of the buildings contained framed pictures of victims. Every face was hollow and the eyes varied between sparks of madness and of nothing. The pictures lined two long walls but were still such a small portion of the actual number of victims in Auschwitz. Nobody walked to the end of the room. There were still pictures there; but nobody walked that far – maybe they thought they had seen enough, or that staring at one picture equated to seeing them all. But there were still pictures there of people.

After this we went on a quick coach ride to Auschwitz; we arrived to a bright sun and hundreds of people queuing to get in. At this time their voices were loud and excited – this is what people had travelled far for, this is what we had learnt about in history classes, assemblies and lectures for years. We were walking into history. Once past security, at the gate of the camp people still took photographs, they still chatted idly and smiles were still in sight. Once through, everybody fell silent and we listened to the tour guide recount facts and figures to us of all the devastating events that took place. This time we weren’t

One of the strangest things about visiting Auschwitz for me was leaving the gate – which they now leave slightly open so people visiting the site can get around at their ease. It seemed like such

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a significant step and you could see every person hesitate as they took it; thinking - how many people wanted to take this step and couldn’t. That was the strangest part, but then we quickly came to the hardest part. The gas chambers. We walked in in silence. I thought that the amount of death that occurred in Auschwitz must leave a presence that you can still feel, and in that room I felt it. It smelt like death. Every inch of that room contained so much horror and stepping in the place where so many bodies had fallen was, simply, horrific. I don’t even know how long we stayed in that room, just that we left in silence.

As we walked into the women’s quarters I kept the image of the Israeli students with me as a small protection to what we were seeing. Many people looked away as we saw the sanitary conditions for women. Our guide explained that to many keeping themselves clean was a means of protest and of pride. The rebellion was small in itself; but could have also been lifesaving. Very few took pictures, we were far beyond that point. It didn’t seem right as one picture could not possibly encapsulate everything we were seeing. There was another dedication to victims at Birkenau, but this one showed pictures of Jewish families and people before the war. We were all told to memorise one picture. That way we could take away one person with us who can be kept alive through our memories. I walked around the exhibit – looked at wedding photographs, toddlers smiling, young couples, old couples, sisters, brothers and friends and thought how could I possibly only take away one photo. These are my ancestors; lives placed on display and treated like one. I realise now writing this, as I remember someone telling me about the photo they took away, that it was for us more than anything. It helps if we can focus on one face, one memory – so we do not have to think about eleven million at once.

After this, we went on another quick coach ride to Birkenau. We immediately joined a long queue. When we reached the front we were led up a narrow staircase to what was once the guard’s tower. From the tower we could see the entire site of Birkenau – the vastness of the camp was outstanding. Auschwitz was difficult to visit as everything was so enclosed, you couldn’t help but look at horror beyond horror at all times. Yet, Birkenau was difficult to visit for the opposite reason. From the top of the guard’s tower you still couldn’t see the whole camp. It felt like it stretched on forever. When we reached ground level again we huddled into a group where we were told how many died on the soil we were standing on. Our guide kept reciting facts until the sunny weather we had seen at Auschwitz turned into a biting chill. Hearing that many blunt recitals of the events of the holocaust, it was easy to dissociate and each fact began to blur into one for me as I could not stop looking at the scale of the camp around me. I was brought back to where I was by a group of Israeli students. Singing and running across the railway lines. Their Israeli flags worn like capes around their shoulders and flying in the wind. They were smiling and posing, and whilst many people in my group were looking at them with disbelief at their disrespect, I couldn’t help but smile. They were celebrating how far we have come since the time that Auschwitz-Birkenau represents. It may not be as far as we would like to go; but it is definitely an amount worth celebrating.

Before we left we heard a Rabbi give a sermon and heard how he travels across the world, devoted to keeping the holocaust alive in young people. He said that when we walk out of this camp none of us would likely be the same again. People nodded, as if it had already happened. We lit candles in remembrance, and I laid a stone by mine. If there is a lesson that I took from this experience it’s that to translate the horrors of what happened during the holocaust we must now all ensure that no part of a person’s identity; be it race, religion, sexual orientation or gender ever be a reason to discriminate against someone. Tolerance, acceptance and keeping the memory of the holocaust alive is what we must achieve to guarantee the phrase ‘never again’ becomes a reality.

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Traveller

ANNE FILER Anne Filer is a former Mayor of Bournemouth. She is now a Cabinet member of Bournemouth, responsible for corporate efficiency. In this interview Anne Filer discusses growing up in Bournemouth in the 1960s, what itâ€™s like to be a female politician and advise for anyone looking to go into politics.

subjects. I thought of becoming a barrister, but that involved too many years of hard graft. So I decided on Journalism, did an intensive secretarial course, and got a job at Vogue magazine - which in those days was THE ultimate job, even though I was on the very bottom rung of the ladder. Bournemouth has changed immensely and yet hardly at all. It has always been the leading resort in Britain and so has always had aspiration to keep itself in the forefront. The beach, the views, the gardens, sporting and entertainment activities have always been there to be enjoyed by locals and visitors. What has changed most is the demography of the people living here - when I was a child it was overwhelming WASP - White, AngloSaxon, Protestant. As a Jewish girl at school, I was a rare exotic specimen. The only girls of any other race at my school were a couple of African princesses and several scions of the Thai Royal Family. The only foreigners working in Bournemouth were Spanish and Italian waiters or hairdressers.

I was at Wentworth school in the 1960's. Those were golden years to be young. My mother had grown up during World War II and had been very restricted by the Victorian attitudes of her parents and also by the limits that war had imposed, meaning that at the age of 16, she had had to leave Bournemouth School for Girls to take up working in a munitions factory. She would have liked to be a doctor, and always regretted her lost opportunity. My father was a Dental Surgeon, and really wanted me to follow in his footsteps. But in the 1960's, the economy was booming, the teenage economy was born and opportunities for us to simply enjoy life were endless. I spent some months in Paris, at the Sorbonne, and had no ambition to go to university here in England. I wanted to do something exciting, get on with life, not waste time on what I saw as "Boring" science

We had a much anticipated influx of foreign students every summer - first the Scandinavians, who broke up school by mid June and came here for a few weeks to improve their English. They all seemed

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unreachably gorgeous - the girls with their long blonde hair and even longer legs, the boys all like Nordic Gods. They were followed in July by the French, who hung around the Square at the entrance to Bournemouth Gardens furiously smoking their exotic Gauloise cigarettes, introducing us to strong coffee and smoky modern Jazz. But once they left at the end of August, we settled back into the sedate and boring Bournemouth that would remain until the next year. There was no University and so a distinct lack of young people and not much work of any quality - so most of us had to leave to go to London for further study or decent employment.

many marvellous events, but the overwhelming impression that year made on me was the vast army of dedicated volunteers who literally keep the town running. Wonderful people who do things like swimming throughout the year at a chilly Stokewood Road with people with various disabilities, or running luncheon clubs for lonely folk, or helping young chaotic families to achieve a better lifestyle and future for their children. The most memorable event was our invitation to a Garden Party at Buckingham Palace which was a wonderful day and a great treat for an ordinary Bournemouth girl like me! As to the future.. facing elections next May, my first ambition is to be re-elected. Then, I would like to continue and complete many of the projects I and the Council have embarked upon. I would like to see the regeneration of some of our more deprived areas completed, to see even more investment and high-level employment opportunities for our young people. And I want Bournemouth to continue to flourish, to develop and yet to stay as the beautiful and vibrant town we love today.

Today, we live in a vibrant, multi-cultural, multi-religious Bournemouth, bringing so much interest and excitement to our town. Many of our school children are multi-lingual, our universities bring students from all over the world, our restaurants offer us food from Australia to Iceland. And what an example of multi-racial, multi-religious harmony Bournemouth is! The other main change has been that people in those days came down here by train, stayed 2 weeks in hotels big and small and wanted nothing more than to spend their days on the beach. There were fabulous variety shows twice nightly at the Pavilion, the Winter Gardens and at the Pier Theatre. Today's visitors want more than that, come here by car and want activities for themselves and their children, hence the various festivals Bournemouth puts on - the Air Festival, the Marathon Festival, Wheels, the Arts Festival etc. I went into politics in 1999, because I believed Bournemouth was deteriorating and developing in a way I hated, with the proliferation of seedy clubs, ugly buildings and lack of ambition. My children had all left home and instead of sitting at home and moaning, I decided to try to do something positive about things. So I put myself up for election - and with thanks to the electorate, am still here and still working hard to keep this town excellent. I have never experienced any disadvantage in being female in a predominantly male field. It helps that I am not shy to offer my opinions nor to argue my case. Learning in the 1960's about Feminism, I have always considered myself to be absolutely equal to my male colleagues and they seem to reflect that back to me. However, if I had had ambition to go to Parliament, it would have been very difficult, as a London-based system, with meetings going on till the middle of the night is not a good recipe for a provincial family life. I am sure that is why there are more male Members of Parliament than female - women at Westminster have to make a choice between their priorities, either politics before family or vice versa. My advice to any girls thinking of becoming involved in politics, is to have confidence in your own opinion and stick with what you believe to be right. I think that women are still inclined to defer to stronger male attitudes and that women with similar attitudes are seen as strident. Try to prioritise a good work-life balance and retain your humanity and you can go as far as any man. Becoming Mayor of Bournemouth was an enormous honour, to be the first citizen in the town I love so much. There were

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Traveller

By Emma Groeger in U4

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Pic-Poc Alley Leora Gerson L6

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Kit was hungry.

some bread and cheese, and then went straight there. At last, as night fell, he reached ‘Pic-Poc’ alley, or so they named it. It was a deserted, forgotten about road, which all the houses faced away from. Kit and the boys set up home there a few years back, and no-one had bothered them since.

But that was okay. The hunger made him sharp, focused. If he wasn’t hungry, he wouldn’t have any incentive to get some money for his supper, his evening meal, so to speak. Kit scanned the crowd with beady eyes.

As Kit walked through, all the eyes peering through their gloomy little darkness lit up. He stopped right in the middle, tore off some of the bread and cheese for himself, and threw the rest of it in the air. Before it hit the ground there were five of them on it, tearing it apart. The rest soon followed, and the food was devoured in minutes. Having satisfied their hunger slightly, the boys gathered round Kit in a circle expectantly, hopefully. Kit motioned for them all to sit, which they did. Then he put his finger to his lips so that they would all be quiet, which they weren’t.

It was twilight, in the late spring, and everybody was trying to finish off their shopping so they could hurry home. The merchants were shouting their last bargains, trying to be heard above the rest, the snobbish gentry dressed in rich reds and blues standing out from the common, ordinary people in plain browns and greys, who in turn looked smarter and more sophisticated than the poor beggars looking on longingly in their scruff. The smells and sights of the market place were so great that even anybody who wasn’t hurrying to get on with things wouldn’t have noticed Kit; a seemingly ordinary, if a bit thin, boy.

Eventually, the noise lessened slightly, and Kit began, “This week,” he started, in a sing-song, story-telling voice, “I’ve heard tell that in a far off land a Princess has been overthrown,” the air was full of shocked gasps, “and that her Frone was taken by an Ice-Witch.”

Although, if anyone had been looking closer, they would have noticed that the boy’s long blonde hair was slightly too tangled and matted, his face was smeared with grime, and his slim figure had nothing to do with the well-rounded diet of a looked after boy. Oddly, his clothes didn’t seem to match, and although they looked fairly average, they were actually so thin that they almost had holes in. As for his face, it was thin, with sharp features, and his twinkling blue eyes had circles underneath. However, no-one was looking, so no-one did notice, which suited Kit just fine.

At this, a small voice piped up, “What’s an Frone?” “It’s a kind of magical bed, Boxer, that the Nonarch sits their royalness on. Anyway, its said that-” “Why would a Ice-Witch want to sleep on the Princess’ bed?” “I don’t know, Boxer, maybe the bed was comfy and they was sleepy. Anyway, the old fisherman said that the Princess fell into the sea and turned into a mermaid...” and so the story continued, until the boys got so sleepy they could hardly keep their eyes open, despite the gripping story Kit told of Elementals and magicians and Black Sorcerers that do wicked things to little boys. Eventually they stumbled back into their little corners of the alley, and Kit came round to tuck them into their thin blankets.

A rich gentleman drew up in a carriage and started looking round all the stalls, drawing the attention of practically everyone in the market-place. No good – too central. Kit spotted a far more likely target. A boy of about his own age, with dark curly hair, and a scowl as wide as anything. Kit snuck up to him inconspicuously, pretending to be interested in the fruit stall. Since the stall owner was bargaining with the boy, Kit snuck a fresh peach into his pocket for Piper, pulling out his knife.

“Goodnight, Pin-Pin, goodnight Boxer-” “Six Bits for an apple is ridiculous! It should be two bits at the most.”

“Why are eyes roundish?” “Goodnight Rum-Tum, goodnight Ar, Mar and Mo, goodnight Foxy, and goodnight Piper.” When Kit came to the last bed he knelt down next to the only girl amongst eight boys. “Piper,” he whispered, “I have something for you. The mermaid Princess gave it to the fisherman, who gave it to me, to give to you. The mermaid Princess wants you to get better, Piper, and this fruit is magical and has magic-better properties.”

“Fine, but five is as low as I go. Its five or no deal.” Kit smiled secretly as he brushed casually past the boy, just as the drunks from the pub wobbled by, laughing raucously. When Kit was passed he opened his palm, and there lay the boy’s opened his palm complete with shiny gold coins. Kit grinned and put the knife, and the cut purse, back in his pocket. He was in business, and business was good.

Piper coughed weakly and smiled, “silly Kitty,” she whispered, “the Princess doesn’t know me,” but she nibbled at the peach anyway. “Mmmm, it tastes good.” And the little girl looked up into the face of the boy she thought of as her big brother, and saw the dark circles under his eyes, the hungry look on his thin face. She held out the peach in her small, thin hand, and whispered “but I can’t eat it all on my own. Share with me?” and so they sat there and shared the magic peach that Kit had forgotten he stole from the market-place and fell asleep next to the glowing fire.

Unfortunately for Kit, at that moment there was a cry of “Hey!” and the boy gave chase, tackling Kit to the ground. However, Kit’s experience and skinny size made him slippery, and he was up and running, and the boy was chasing, and Kit ran down an alley, and the boy ran past, and – was gone. Kit sighed in reliefthank goodness for his disappearing trick! He whistled as he made his way home, hands in pockets, feet striding confidently along the pavement. He stopped off to buy

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Traveller

THE NOT By Leora Gerson L6

PEOPLE It’s strange, you know. Difficult to explain. Difficult to understand. It’s the kind of thing you hear about in conspiracy theories and science fiction stories. It most definitely is not the kind of thing you expect to happen in real life, and certainly not to yourself.

I suppose you must be wondering what happened to make me miss them, why I refer to who I ‘was’. Well, you see, that’s the tricky part. Because it all comes down to the scar on my neck. The thing that separates me from myself.

Perhaps I’ve dreamed it. Perhaps I’ll wake up and it’ll never have happened. I’ve had dreams like this before. Vivid, unbelievable dreams, but they’ve never lasted this long before…..

The thing that makes me not the real me. The thing that proves I’m an android.

You wouldn’t believe it, just looking at me, because, well, I look normal, ordinary. I thought I was. Except for the red, round, circular scar on my neck. About the size of a five pence coin, it is normally faded and you can hardly see it. But that day it started glowing. Sizzling, really, I suppose, but I’m getting ahead of myself. All that came later. First I should explain who I am. Who I was. My name was Thomas. Thomas P. Brown. I was a contented, hardworking, Physics undergraduate. I had been offered a chance by NASA to go on a topsecret mission into space, more details on acceptance. I refused. Since then, I had regretted my decision, but I know deep down that is was the right one because I’m ‘not-that-sort-of-person’. Or so I thought. I thought I would miss my friends and family too much; my parents, my sister Judy, my friend Andy. My girlfriend, Sarah, perhaps most of all. I miss them now.

They came to me, the soldiers with black suits and dark glasses, pinned me down and gagged me on my own chair, before I could say a word. In films, the hostage takers ask for ransoms or something they need in return for the hostage to be set free. One of their own people to be freed perhaps, or promises too important not to be made without insurance. I knew immediately, through some bizarre instinct or intuition, that I wouldn’t be set free, that there was no ransom for me. When they were sure I couldn’t move, they undid my gag, a gun pointing at my head. “What do you want?” I asked immediately, unable to talk in much more than a hoarse, helpless whisper. The tallest one, who appeared to be in charge, asked “Do you know who you are?” “I am Thomas Peter Brown,” I answered, and although I knew it to be the truth it tasted like a lie inside my own mouth.

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“You are wrong,” replied the tallest man, “Thomas Peter Brown left Earth two years ago on a mission for NASA. You are AI6134232 – you are an android.” My head reeled. My heart knew his words to be true, but my head couldn’t understand them. Didn’t want to understand them. “I don’t understand you,” I said. “When NASA launched their mission, they left behind androids in the places of the people who had gone, so that they would not be missed. You are the android left in the place of Thomas P. Brown. Now the mission is almost complete, the real Thomas P. Brown will come home, and NASA will remove your memory chip and destroy your body. We are here to rescue you before that happens.” It couldn’t be true, and yet I knew it was. “I don’t believe you,” I said. It was the only thing I could think of. He snorted, and before I could blink he raised his hand and fired the gun at me point blank. I reacted faster than I ever had before, faster than I knew I could. Faster than a human. I tore the ropes that bound my hands and swiped the bullet out of the air. Where I caught it my hand hurt, and looking down, I was amazed to see not blood, but wires where my ‘skin’ was cut.

“What you are feeling now,” said the tallest man, “is not human pain, but your highly tuned sensors telling you where humans would have felt pain and you reacting to it. I am an android,” he gestured to himself, then around at the other people at the room, “we all are.” “That’s enough,” came a sharp woman’s voice from behind me, and I tried to look round in shock, because it was somehow familiar, but strong hands gripped my head and forced me to look only in front. “He knows all he needs to know.” I said nothing, and she addressed me directly, “We need to shut you down now. I have a button in my hand. When I press it, the scar on your neck will sting. When I press it a second time, your AI senses will shut down, and we will take you to our headquarters. ‘Sting’ was an understatement – I felt like I was being electrified for a long moment, and then the pain was gone and I was drifting into unconsciousness. As my eyes shut themselves, I had a glimpse of long, black hair, and the woman’s voice saying, “Do you think we can use him?” The man replied, or I thought he did, “I don’t know, but if we can’t – if we fail to persuade him to join us – we’re all dead.”

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Traveller

The future 41

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according to

year two WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU’RE OLDER?

“A room full of Maths where you can draw on the walls and a pretend castle in the playground. We could have a butterfly room with real butterflies in it.” – Lola

“Not quite sure, maybe an explorer.” – Katherine

“More /maths questions [“no dividing though” – Imogen], and more art and a rocket so at play time we can rocket into space.”– Alex

“A scientist.” – Imogen

WHAT DO YOU THINK THE FUTURE IS GOING TO BE LIKE?

“A type of teacher, but I don’t know which one yet because I’ve got loads of hobbies.” – Alex “A midwife.” – Lola

“More fun stuff, everything can be more fun. Everything can be really big when you’re born, like BFG. The trees could be easier to climb.”– Imogen

WHAT DO YOU THINK TALBOT HEATH WILL BE LIKE IN 100 YEARS?

“More exciting. Instead of normal slides, they’ll be knocked down and we can use little rainbows to slide down.”– Katherine

“Maybe it’s been moved somewhere.” – Imogen

“Someone might invent something not human which can speak. My whole family will live in a castle and there’ll be gigantic cars.”– Lola

“Amazing.” – Katherine

“More inventing, such as bouncing custard balls and exploding monsters. A gigantic climbing wall which we could climb all day and we could sit on a cloud. I would like to be an elf.” – Alex

“Maybe it’s been dug up and moved.” – Lola “This is going to be a hard question because we won’t be alive then. If it’s older it’s going to be more interesting for new people as older things are always more interesting.” – Alex

WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE ABOUT TALBOT HEATH IF YOU COULD? “Have more hard- back books, I like them because they have really big pages. Also, a bucket of water so when anyone opens the door it will fall in their face.” – Imogen “More science and we can extend the pirate ship.” – Katherine

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Traveller

The future 43

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according to

UPPER THREE

LOWER FIVE

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU’RE OLDER?

“A Singer.” – Amelia

“An accountant or an actress.” – Ellie

“A Cardiologist” – Nikki

“A nurse or an events planner.” – Lucy

“An animator or a graphics designer.” – Evie

“A teacher.” – Eleanor

“I’m not really sure, something to do with Maths or Science.” – Laura

“A doctor.” – Charlotte “A Business entrepreneur”– Rosie

WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE ABOUT TALBOT HEATH IF YOU COULD?

“The year 6s could come later to lunch.” – Laura “Paint everything pink.” – Rosie

“Packed Lunches”– Amelia “Have modern architecture.”– Nikki

“Change the IT block to make the kitchens more modern”– Lucy

WHAT DO YOU THINK TALBOT HEATH WILL BE LIKE IN 100 YEARS?

“Introduce cookery for GSCE.”– Ellie

“Very modern. You could have seats where you type in the room you want to go to and it takes you there straight away.” – Amelia

WHAT DO YOU THINK TALBOT HEATH WILL BE LIKE IN 100 YEARS?

“Make it so we have no exams like Finland.”– Daisy

“High tech. There might be taller buildings with elevators.” – Jasmine “The woods will be gone and there will be an indoor volley ball court. There will be a roof over the swimming pool.” – Ellie

“It might not be here, but if it is it will be more advanced than the other schools.” – Laura

“There will be more buildings and a bigger playground. It might be a boys and girls school.” – Lucy

“It will be more based on technology and textbooks will be on iPads. I hope the library will stay the same as I like it the way it is.” – Evie

“The library will have better seats. It might be a mixed school. The school uniform will get even more old fashioned.” – Eleanor

WHAT DO YOU THINK THE FUTURE IS GOING TO BE LIKE?

“Maybe they will expand the school and there will be more people.” – Charlotte

“Probably a bit darker with more wars (but hopefully not really big ones). There might be a new way to generate energy. We might be able to visit other planets.” – Evie

WHAT DO YOU THINK THE FUTURE IS GOING TO BE LIKE?

“Wars will stop as new laws are brought in. We will probably find a way to live on another planet.”– Laura

“It will get warmer.” – Eleanor “Everything will be floating and the land will be left to be green.” – Charlie

“There will be invisible cars, and glass buildings instead of brick buildings. We won’t waste paper as we will have electronic devices.” – Amelia

“We might be in constant war – One person will dominate the world. We might regress to only having peasants and extremely rich people.”– Ellie

“Everyone will be using iPads everywhere. There will be hover-cars.” – Jasmine

“We will be at war – like the hunger games. There will be a bigger divide between the rich and poor.” – Lucy “Like the Busted song – underwater, or it will end up like Wall-e and we’ll have to move off the Earth because it’s so polluted” – Rosie

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THE TEACHERS

The future

according to

Traveller

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WHAT PROFESSION WOULD YOU HAVE IF YOU WEREN’T A TEACHER?

WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE ABOUT TALBOT HEATH IF YOU COULD?

“Own a vineyard and produce my own wine.” –Mr Hill

“Make Geography a compulsory subject.” – Mrs Chapleo

“Run a country and test out the most effective methods that I’ve taught.” – Mrs Baker

“Everybody would be a vegetarian.” – Dr Orchard

“Marine Biologist.” – Mrs Chapleo

“Have a mini particle collider.”– Mr Cradick

“Artist.” – Mrs Magrath

“Have a personal time machine in the classroom for interactive History lessons.”– Mrs Baker

“Optician.” – Miss Hooton “Build a zip wire from the CAT block to anywhere.” – Miss Marks

“An Ancient Archaeologist.” – Mr Cradick

“Install a steam train service between outbuildings, which only I can drive.” – Mr Hill

“Sports Psychologist.” – Miss Marks “Either an Airline Pilot or work on a Royal Navy Submarine.” – Dr Orchard

“Have tea on tap in classrooms for teachers and sixth formers.” – Miss Hooton

WHAT DO YOU THINK TALBOT HEATH WILL BE LIKE IN 100 YEARS?

“Redesign the building.” – Mrs Magrath

“The trees will have fallen down and the buildings will have new windows.” – Miss Hooton

WHAT DO YOU THINK THE FUTURE IS GOING TO BE LIKE?

“Paperless. Teachers will do everything online and people will be taught by robots.” – Dr Orchard

“Lazy: technology will go crazy.” – Miss Marks “I feel hopeful about the future and we will live in an unbiased society where we are not driven by conflict.” – Mrs Magrath

“Hopefully it won’t change too much. It will still have the same sense of community and will not have grown too much, but will be up to date.” – Mrs Chapleo

“I hope it will be more tolerant and horrible acts of terrorism will be a distant memory.”– Mrs Chapleo

“It will be a traditional educational establishment with much the same principals but with new gizmos and gadgets.” – Mr Hill

“Very positive, the young generation are well set up, so I’m hopeful as long as people work out their differences. The idea of communities will come back.” – Mrs Baker

“I hope that the setting and the woods are retained, but I wonder whether it will still be a girls school and if single sex education will be a thing of the past.” – Mrs Magrath

“More medical conditions will be curable (hopefully all cancers). There will be a greater spread of wealth and less starvation. There will be greener energy resources and greater use of nuclear power. There will also be space age onesies.” – Mr Cradick

“Futuristic with iPads, there could be escalators and conveyor belts around the school.” – Miss Marks “There will be new buildings, with the main school building still standing. The CAT block will have perished and been replaced with an iconic structure.” – Mr Cradick

“There will be faster communication and we will be venturing off our planet.” – Miss Hooton “We will be able to live in space (not necessarily on planets) and under the sea. I hope there will be space ships and we’ll be able to travel faster than light. Humans will have super powers and will be able to fly like superman.” – Dr Orchard

“We will still have school birthday in exactly the same way. It will be more virtual but still the same community with traditional values.” – Mrs Baker

“We will be more glued to our gadgets and will get fatter.” – Mr Hill

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Traveller

The future of the library Ideas contributed by Amelia Tibbs and Jasmine Fry U3

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Traveller When we consider the future of our school, we mainly consider changes in uniform, catering, lessons and the introduction of new technology; but one thing you may not have considered is how our school library may change. Some contributors to the school magazine have had a think over it and we decided to publish our ideas and see what others think!

the library wall, where you could report the title and/or author of a book and the machine would direct you to it. This would also help if you had lost a book and needed to find and return it, or needed to find a book at very short notice. A slightly more fantastical idea was the suggestion of hovering chairs in place of ladders, to enable you to reach high books at any time. This would stop the problem of lugging the ladders across the room, but would also be very expensive and such technology has not yet been released to the public. But we can still hope!

The advancement of technology in the library is quite a possibility, and an idea we came up with was that the library will go digital, so you would be able to access it on the intranet and log in with a library code. It is possible you could either reserve or take out books. Another option would be to purchase some ebooks, to be viewed from the iPad and maybe read in an app such as Kindle. You could also use the digital library to find the information on how many titles of each book the library owns, and maybe recommend books for librarians to purchase in either paper or ebook format. The advantage of ebooks is that you cannot lose them or leave them lying around and therefore forget to renew or return them.

Our final idea was another related to ebooks, the idea of being able to connect a book with a chip to your iPad, and subsequently view it there in colour form. This would help when it came to reducing the amount of books you carry around, as they could be on your iPad instead. This process could be repeated for textbooks or the ebooks could be distributed to the pupils. The ebooks could be purchased by the school or charged to the accounts of the pupils if this was to go ahead.

Another advancement of technology, which would be a great help, was the idea of a book locator. The books could be fitted with a small chip and it would be possible to locate it in the library from a computer or the suggestion of a book pod. A book pod would be a touchscreen device maybe installed into

I hope you enjoyed reading our ideas, and if you have any suggestions for the future of the library the library volunteers are always keen to listen!

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Traveller

THE advancements of technology

a buzz or a buzzkill? Emma Gallen U4

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Technology in recent years has advanced very quickly. Just a few years ago, using a computer meant you had to type in commands (lists of code) to do anything. It would take what seemed like an eternity to load even the simplest of programs, much to the user's dismay. Now we have computers that can almost run themselves. You can access a world full of opportunities at the click of a mouse. I believe technology is the fastest advancing aspect of society in the modern world. Almost everything is based on computers.

that any problems (such as leaks or radiation poisoning) will occur as the power plants are very good at withstanding external forces such as earthquakes. The amount of security placed on these nuclear materials is almost at a military level, with extremely frequent checks of these materials and the vaults in which they are placed, (which are of the highest calibre possible). The people working around these nuclear materials are carefully checked for their exposure, making sure they are not at all close to receiving a dose that will produce any ill effects. The reason that bad publicity has been generated is because of the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki; as well as the two major incidents with nuclear power plants (one of which, in Fukushima, was caused by an earthquake larger than a 7 on the Richter scale, which the plant was supposed to be able to withstand). The public, after the Atomic bombs, have been very wary of anything with the word 'atomic' or 'nuclear'; however, I believe it is a very good short term solution for power, until a sustainable and predictable form of renewable energy can be introduced.

This comes with a risk in itself, as malfunctions and technical difficulties are not unheard of, so the fact that we rely on it so heavily is quite a risk to take. Technology will continue to grow every day, every month and every year. Soon the technology that we have now will be considered antique and will no longer be used. Some think that eventually it will hit a point where it canâ€™t progress any further, but I think as long is there is technology we will continue to improve it. It is simple human nature to want progress, to want bigger and better things, but will this lead to our downfall?

Another thing which has caught my eye are the advances in genetic engineering. I read an article on how scientists have tested different serums to make rats stronger, more intelligent and faster. This made me think about how this could be transferred onto humans. Such enhancements could change the human race completely; imagine a world where everybody has IQ levels of over 150! It could change our species as we know it, making curing diseases easier and maybe even eradicating diseases completely due to additional strength of the immune system. The more I thought about it in this way, the better the idea got. If our intelligence was increased, we would be more able to assess a tricky situation as well as the pros and cons of any solutions and this could (to my reasoning), help us avoid battles and wars.

When scouring articles and stories, I have found many different examples of technical advances; one that quickly caught my attention is the OICW (Objective Individual Combat Weapon). It is a gun which uses camera and computer imagery to show soldiers what is around the corner (quite literally!). The US Government put it in use in 2006. This weapon could save hundreds of lives, as corners are one of the most exposing places to shoot from. The OICW will enable soldiers to fire more rounds at an enemy who cannot see them. For defensive use, this is brilliant, it lessens the risk of injury to soldiers when being attacked in an enclosed space. But on the other hand, if it falls into the wrong hands, it could have a detrimental effect for the soldiers fighting, putting them in even more danger than before

But there are still some underlying questions that could stop this idea almost completely. Can we, as humans, be trusted with such technology? Do we trust each other enough to make this readily available? I believe the answer to this is no, we do not have that much trust in each other, and so, as the same species, we will continue to split ourselves up with imaginary borderlines, kill each other for these borders and forget that together we can change anything, but divided we can only hope.

Another concerning factor is that the resources we use to build these computers and make the electricity to power them are finite. At the moment, we rely heavily on a crude oil economy for fuel, medicines, plastics and many other petrochemicals. It is estimated that with our current rate of energy and fuel consumption, we will be left without any in an extremely short amount of time. A gradual lack in resource, would lead to economic tension (as prices of fuels rise), meaning that heating homes and owning technology could become a privilege. Scientists have found ways of harnessing power through hydroelectricity (water power), solar energy, and nuclear power. I believe that nuclear power is given a bad reputation. Overall, it is very safe as the safety inspections are very thorough and it is highly unlikely

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Talbot Heath Independent School for Girls aged 3-18

Talbot Heath School, Rothesay Road, Bournemouth, Dorset. BH4 9NJ Tel: 01202 761881, Fax: 01202 768155, www.talbotheath.org