Friday 25 August 23: “One of the key elements of Founders’ Day is the pause midway through the proceedings. The first half of the ceremony is our remembrance of the past, commemorating those who have gone before and paved the way for us – those who have built the school into the edifice it is today. Then we look to the future, as we become aware that every boy sitting in his Wynberg uniform is a founder of future traditions, as he strives to make the school more fit for the current South Africa. The school is a living entity and needs to keep modernising itself while holding on to the values which made it the school that it is.” – Mr Larry Moser
Thank you for joining us – please use the tabs to read Headmaster, Deon Scheepers’ Welcome, former Headmaster, Keith Richardson’s John McNaughton Address, watch the live-streamed video, and read the programme.
Good morning and welcome to our Founder’s Day Ceremony.
A warm word of welcome to our special guests, members of the school governing body, and current heads of the campus schools, namely:
Mr Cedric Poleman (WBJS), Dr Jenn Wallace (WGHS), and Mrs Melanie Sharland (WGJS).
Welcome to Mr Werner van Kets as President of WOBU, academic staff present, parents, Old Boys; and young Wynberg men.
Also, welcome to those who are following this ceremony via live streaming.
A special word of welcome to our guest of honour, Mr Keith Richardson, former headmaster from 1999-2015 of this wonderful school. Mr Richardson will be delivering John McNaughton address later on and we all look forward to hearing from this great orator.
Your presence here this morning makes this occasion even more special and it is a pleasure to welcome you all.
Our Founders’ Day plays a very important part in our Heritage Week. not only do we welcome back previous generations of old boys to the school, but we also pay tribute to those people who have gone before us, and sacrificed their lives, to establish and develop this school as a beacon of hope in our province and country.
We are also grateful and celebrate our founding headmaster, John McNaughton, who was appointed as the first headmaster of ‘the new Wynberg Established School’ which publicly opened its doors on 1 July 1841.
John McNaughton was in many ways a visionary leader with a clear and well-defined purpose and intent when the school was established. he said the following when the school opened its doors, and I quote:
“The great object of this school will be to bring the blessings of a good education within the reach of all our community. I will be educating the whole man – physical, moral, and intellectual. The communication of knowledge will be subservient to mental training. my great aim will be to teach pupils to think.”
I truly believe that John McNaughton will be proud of how the school has evolved over time into a well-integrated community where we are striving to make the school a place of belonging for all the different cultural groups in South Africa.
We also strive to educate our boys holistically so that they can indeed leave the Memorial Gates being able to think for themselves and to overcome all the many challenges facing our beautiful country.
Over time the emphasis of our Founders’ Day has not only been on celebrating the establishment of such a fine school but also on remembering those associated with our school who have devoted their lives in developing our school into such a fine institution.
We celebrate current and previous generations of boys, parents, teaching and support staff, and other benefactors.
Our Founders’ Day is, therefore, a time to look back at the past, to evaluate the present, and to look towards the future.
We also remember those Wynberg boys who have lost their lives in battle and who could never reap the rewards of being educated at this fine institution.
One is reminded and we pay tribute to those Wynberg boys who had sacrificed their lives in WW1, WW2, and the Korean War when walking through the Memorial Gates and acknowledging the copper plaque in our garden of remembrance bearing their names.
As South Africans continue to strive to unite as one nation, and in the midst of trying times characterized by several seemingly debilitating challenges, we should always remember the more than 12 000 casualties suffered in the First World War, the more than 38 000 casualties suffered in the second world war and those killed in the Korean War.
South Africans of all races volunteered for military service and the war graves of all races lie scattered abroad in faraway places like France, Belgium, the Middle East, Italy, and Korea, to name but a few.
Closer to home, we should remember the many South Africans of all races who died in the conflicts on our borders and in the liberation struggle of the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s.
As yet, there are no reliable figures for these casualties, but what is important is that they bravely contributed to the freedom of our beloved country and to building a new democratic dispensation.
The act of remembrance has strong South African roots. however, to many, remembering those who sacrificed their lives in active duty in South Africa is a lost pastime and often tainted by the politics surrounding the conflicts.
We should honour the individuals who died, rather than the ideology that sent them to war, often unwillingly.
Soldiers die in battle fighting for their lives, and those of their comrades, and not necessarily for the preservation of the regimes that sent them to war.
We must be reminded that remembering those who sacrificed their lives is not about celebrating any victory, nor about boasting about achievements in conflict.
In this regard, the quote by Colonel Frank P. Hobgood is apt:
“War does not determine who is right, only who is left.”
We must therefore show respect for those who were willing to serve their country or fellow oppressed compatriots and who made the ultimate sacrifice so that we who are here now can have the life that we know.
This sentiment is strikingly reflected in The Soldier’s Prayer which states:
“For your tomorrow we gave our today,
Our gift was great, but you must now give a greater gift.
We died. Now you must nobly live.”
Many of you present here today have never, and probably will never, experience the ravages of war.
Many of you will also probably only take notice of these copper plaques of fallen soldiers if you have been affected by wars, perhaps by losing an extended family member a long time ago.
To many of you, the reading of those names on the Roll of Honour will, therefore, bear little significance.
However, our obligation as South Africans is to not only salute those individuals who have fallen together in conflicts but to look towards the future.
We need to commit to the quest for a non-racial, equal, and inclusive society free from the horrors of conflict or oppression.
However, the wars that we as South Africans are fighting today are not fought on any battlefield on our borders or at faraway locations.
As South Africans, we fight an invisible enemy who has invaded our borders, neighbourhoods, and homes today.
To illustrate this, please allow me to share the following with you:
South Africa today has 25 million unemployed people and 30 million are in poverty.
South Africa is in the grip of wide-ranging crises especially affecting the poor and vulnerable.
Violence and criminality have become the norm threatening the existence and future of our people, our democratic life, and heightening fear and insecurity in communities.
We find ourselves in the midst of an energy crisis that is causing great hardship and destroying our economy.
Corruption has eaten away at our nation’s soul and has severely eroded the social compact between the state and ordinary citizens.
Our youth, the future of our country, are bearing the brunt of this systemic decay, instability, and turbulent times:
Research indicates that our youth is suffering from mental health challenges like anxiety, depression, substance abuse, eating disorders, self-harm, and suicidal behaviours, to name but a few.
These challenges faced by the youth in South Africa are related to high crime, the prevalence of domestic violence and substance abuse, the socio-economic crisis, and educational challenges in South African schools.
The rapid development of technology and increased exposure, and accessibility to, social media, have created severe challenges for our youth as these elements affect their emotional well-being and mental health.
Additionally, the need for approval, acceptance, validation, and instant gratification on social media have become the major threats to emotional well being and mental health.
So what does the future hold for our youth?
I believe that our founding headmaster, John McNaughton, and those names that are inscribed on the plaque in our garden of remembrance, hold the answer to this question.
John McNaughton reminds us to strive to get a good education, to rely on our communities for support, and to make use of every opportunity to develop physically, morally, and intellectually.
John McNaughton also reminds us to think for ourselves, to be solutions driven, and to train our minds by becoming resilient to the challenges that we are facing.
Our fallen soldiers remind us to protect the rights of those who also wear our blue blazer but who might be a minority group or perhaps previously oppressed and disadvantaged, or socially frowned upon.
Building a better South Africa requires each and every one of us to take responsibility and make a contribution in whatever way we can.
Restoring our democracy begins with individual acts and by working together as our school slogan so aptly states as “brothers in an endless chain.”
We cannot leave it to chance or to others to realise the South Africa of our dreams. The future of our country is indeed in our hands.
We certainly can succeed and ensure a future for our youth if we make our school values of honesty, integrity, respect, inclusivity, and excellence part of our DNA and part of our moral fibre.
I believe that this is the true meaning of Founders’ Day.
I thank you!
Some years ago, I spoke at the Junior School Flag Raising ceremony during Founders Week. You Matrics would have been in Grade 5. For those of you who have forgotten or are from other junior schools, then I will tell you that my theme that day was ‘Making Memories’.
I urged all of you that when you came to high school, that is what you had to do: make memories…… by taking part in as much as possible.
Speaking for myself, I can tell you that there is not one classroom at this school, not one corridor, not one building or field, or any part of this school that does not hold a memory for me.
Some of them are funny memories; others now make me shiver; many …..were a lesson for me.
The matric quad though, does hold many amusing memories. The Matrics – and I am sure nothing has changed – were always up to something.
The Matrics went through a spate of not being as good at picking up litter as they should and the quad after the break was becoming a mess. So …. I kept the matrics behind after the next assembly, which was never a popular move as that meant they lost their place in the lunch queue, and I proceeded to berate them about what I thought of them; their parents who had brought them up to be so sloppy; their sense of entitlement; their arrogance that they expected other people to pick up after them; and so I went on and on. And on.
On the way up to my office, I told Mr Moser that I was confident that that was the end of that and that we would hear no more about litter in the matric quad.
At the end of that lunch break, a stony-faced Mr Moser was at my door. I am sure you all know Mr Moser’s stony face…. ‘Have you seen the quad?
I rushed to the window, and there were the culprits – hordes of crows picking up sandwich wrapping, bread crusts, and remains of lunchboxes, and throwing them in the air. There were even crows who had taken their spoils up into the pine trees and were releasing the wrappings which were gently floating down to earth….
‘How are you going to tell the matrics?’ said Mr Moser who had heard my tirade to the matrics and he was looking forward to hearing how I was going to get out of it.
‘I will find the right time,’ I said, but I wasn’t confident. I waited a week and then mentioned it – in passing – in assembly. Not a matric smiled. They just looked at me. They were not going to forget easily my comments on their character, my insinuations about their dubious parentage. Not to mention their shortened lunch break. They said-not-a-word.
For the rest of that year whenever something happened – like missing homework – they would just say: ‘It was the crows, Sir’.
I looked out at the tuck shop quad, and I remember another incident that this one could have had an unhappy ending.
We used to have a termly disco. As you can guess, they were hard work – for the staff – but for the boys, and girls, they were always enjoyable. And we made quite a few Rand for some school activity.
It was shortly after the disco started when one of the matrics came running to tell me about this sight: that there were three boys on the roof.
There were three boys on the roof clearly, they trying to find a way in without paying the R10 entry fee (Mr Scheepers you see what I mean about discos being hard work?).
The crowd all poured out of the hall to view the scene. Everyone was offering an opinion on how they were to get down. One boy, obviously a Littlewood boy, shouted ‘Jump!’.
The boys had climbed up via a flat roof near the staff room and worked their way across. They only realized when they arrived here that they were now three stories up – not one. Fortunately, some Matrics went up to help them down and they were met by me waiting for them at the flat roof doing my best to imitate Mr Moser’s stony face.
Now that they were safe, it didn’t take long for their courage to return and one of them asked ‘Can we now get in for free, Sir?’
Being a former Latin teacher, I gave them some good Latin phrases to help them get home.
I still shake my head at another memory. Those who know these things say that boys will be boys, but sometimes they do such stupid things that they deserve never to become men.
I was in my office one afternoon when a phone call came in. ‘Do you know, Mr Richardson,’ shouted a hysterical voice on the other end, ‘that there is a boy in a Wynberg blazer on the top of a bus driving past Bergvliet High School?’
She then proceeded to give me a detailed description of a boy on his knees, armed outstretched as if he had just won the World Cup, on the top of a moving bus trying to impress the girls of Bergvliet.
‘Help me to understand why you did it?’ was my obvious first question to the boy the next day. His response of ‘I thought it was a good idea at the time’ was quite a good starting point for further (very lengthy) discussions as I led him point by point why I thought it was NOT a good idea.
Those are just day-to-day incidents of running a boys’ school and you can understand after hearing all this why some of those memories sometimes make me shiver.
However, today is a day where we remember not only our Founders who had the foresight to start this school 182 years ago; not only the names who were read out of those Wynberg boys who never came back from war to their friends and families, but also those thousands of young men who have contributed to making this school a better place.
I don’t only mean the famous ones whose stories you read in the museum, or whose names appear on the honours boards of the school but ordinary boys who showed courage – and in doing so, sent positive messages to everyone at Wynberg. I use the word ‘Courage’ deliberately as it comes from a Latin word for a heart which is ‘cor’. You can only show courage when you particularly believe in something from the very depths of your heart.
Without courage, you won’t make that try-saving tackle, or dive for the catch in cricket, or fight back when you are three goals down in hockey or ask for help when you are struggling in class, or stand up for a fellow pupil when he is in trouble.
Because boys when they do that, then they too can add their story to those of the founders of this school.
To make this point, I have chosen to tell the stories of four ordinary Wynberg boys who displayed extraordinary courage while they were young. Only one is here today, one listening in from London and another from Canada (where it is 5.00 a.m.)
The first is Derrick Fine. A loyal old boy who today seldom misses a first-team rugby game but never misses Founders’ Day or Valedictory. Scores of Wynberg boys have been assisted over the decades by the Fine family scholarships.
He was in matric when the 1976 riots broke out. Like most Wynberg boys and staff, he knew little why those riots broke out and why schoolchildren from the Cape Flats were rampaging through the streets. After he left school, he became an SRC member at UCT and became fully aware of what was happening in the country. He then accepted an invitation to speak from this stage as a young university student.
This is what he wrote to me telling me about his speech:
‘These were turbulent times of school boycotts and community protests vs apartheid govt. I spoke to the boys about only finding out about what were the real issues affecting their schoolboy peers from other schools on the Cape Flats and how we at Wynberg were not prepared to understand what was happening in our country. In mid-speech, I was ordered to stop as I was “talking politics”, but I carried on.’
When taken in the context of the time, that speech from a young Old Boy from this very stage, showed extraordinary courage and gave a glimpse to the school on what was really going on.
Andrew Feinstein, a few years behind Derrick, is my second example of courage. He has certainly spent his life, as Derrick exhorted, supporting what was right.
After matriculating from Wynberg he went up to UCT to study to be a clinical psychologist. He ended up with two degrees in Economics which saw him in 1994 head up the Finance portfolio in the Gauteng legislature and it was only a few years later when Nelson Mandela asked him to take on the same role in the National Parliament in Cape Town.
In 1999, he was faced with a choice. His role in finance in Parliament meant that he knew all the ins and outs of the infamous Arms Deal and the corruption and personal enrichment of politicians that went with it. He spoke to a prominent member of the Cabinet about what he should do, and the reply was: ‘Whatever you do, keep quiet – you will only jeopardise your political career.’
So he did keep quiet – until he heard himself speak on the radio one day in his car driving home. He heard himself lie and deny the truth and listening to this, he realized that this was not how he was brought up. The rest is history as he courageously decided to expose the Arms Deal to the country and the world.
As you all know, his career in Government came to a quick end. When another cabinet minister threatened him that his life and the life of his family were at risk, he subsequently moved with his family to London later writing a best seller ‘After the Party’ – which is in the school library – about his experiences in the ANC and the agonies of decision making which he went through.
Everything about Andrew is encapsulated in a note he wrote to me in the front of his book. I could have used this note as a title of this talk today: ‘To all at Wynberg – which is where I learned that there is such a thing as Truth’.
What a thought-provoking statement. I think that should now become the title of my talk today.
Andrew is currently in CT and wanted to be here today but this morning he was called to the hospital where he has a critically ill sister.
Many years later, Garreth Bloor, was in matric. He was to show a different sort of courage. He now lives in Canada and I also dropped him a line to tell me in his own words what he said to the school back in 2007.
This is what he wrote back:
‘Through Wynberg debating, I had enjoyed many interactions with all sorts of ideas. When the Mayor of the city, Helen Zille, called on men to march against gender violence (thus sending a message to other men), I believed it was Wynberg men being called.
It was lonely at the start, but that was short-lived. Almost immediately several boys joined me thus taking our idea on to a cause. In our Wynberg uniforms at the Green Point Stadium, we were proud to respond to a major issue of the day by taking what was a small stand, but a stand nonetheless.
This march led to other discussions at school on what we as learners at Wynberg Boys had and what we should expect of ourselves as individuals, in a society where Wynberg Boys enjoyed great advantages. We wanted to do more.’
Gareth’s idea of more was to urge the school to show respect not only to lady teachers but to other women in their lives. He urged them to tear up all the pictures of scantily clad females that teenage boys typically had in the exercise books. ‘Let us lead the way,’ he said. ‘Let us not demean women. How can we look at our sisters, our mothers, our girlfriends if we have these pictures in our books and in our cases?’
And this is how he ended his note to me:
‘In debating you often hear fellow debaters pull out quotes from admired leaders. We all love to do it, but sometimes a straightforward message from your own heart that doesn’t require any debating (or sporting or academic skills) is even more powerful.
Don’t always wait for others to step up. From time to time, no matter how big or small, just ask yourself: What if this time …. others are waiting for me to act? What if it is my turn to stand up?
Progress comes from stepping up and we’ve all benefited from leaders who went before us. Why not challenge oneself to do the same when that moment arises?
It is just one short question. “What if this time, it is my turn?’
That could also make a great title….
Imagine having this newspaper article said about you while still at school: Wynberg boys march to a different tune.
Stand aside all you grown men, a teenage boy is showing you the way and making a stand.
Now a totally different example of a Wynberg boy with courage. I remember interviewing him as a 12-year-old boy in my office. He had insisted to his parents, who were in the interview, that Wynberg was in his blood. The only thing was… that he lived in Blantyre, Malawi.
I can’t talk him out of it,’ said his mother, ‘he wants to come to his great grandfather’s old school. He wants no other.’
And so it turned out. A year later, a very proud and very small 13-year-old Guy Bowden turned up as a boarder at Littlewood where his great-grandfather, Bill Bowden had spent 15 years as Headmaster.
That showed great courage, but let Guy, now working in London, take over in his email to me:
‘Thank you for taking me down memory lane. That speech you refer to was in the Monday assembly of Founders’ Week in my Grade 8 year – the week of our last winter fixtures against SACS at home.
I was walking back to the boarding house on the Saturday before, having watched the first-team rugby game against Rondebosch – which we won. I remember feeling really inspired by the game, and in that moment, I felt compelled to earn my own place at the school and to make my own impact in return for the heritage and pride that it was giving me.
By then, I was deeply aware of my great-grandfather’s legacy, and I now felt a need to build my own. The Matrics of 2010 had also left a profound impact on me – there were some good leaders in that year, and they inspired me to be a lot bigger than I was.
Anyway… it was their last game for the school and the biggest game of their school careers. So, I started writing my speech over that weekend… I remember walking into your office during the first break that day and asking you if I could give my speech to the school. You agreed and then I panicked! Needless to say, I paid zero attention in my English and Maths periods that followed as I frantically tried to polish my speech before assembly.
I remember shaking and stumbling on my opening words. But, somehow, my words came back to me as I spoke more and more. Absorbed in what I was saying, I soon forgot where I was standing and exactly how many people were in front of me.
It was themed about SACS, the importance of that fixture, and the last chance for 150 Grade 12s to go away with one more flawless memory with which to carry for a lifetime. I can’t really remember what I said, but I do remember really meaning it. It was all about what Founders’ Day meant to me, what Wynberg meant to me, and what my Wynberg brothers meant to me.
I remember walking away from the podium so quickly that the school hadn’t even realised that I had finished talking. I was halfway down the stairs leading away from the stage when, to my surprise, the entire school, and staff, leapt to their feet in an ovation. That moment changed me for the rest of my life, and I’ve often thought back to my 14-year-old self whenever, since then, I have needed to draw courage.
Despite the ovation from the boys, I had no idea what impact my words had had until later that week in the Founders’ Day Ceremony where one of the 2010 Matrics was tasked with giving a speech on what Wynberg meant to him. I will never forget that moment. He said:
“I’m filled with sorrow having to say goodbye in a few short months to my second home and my second family. A few days ago, the smallest Grade 8 courageously stood up in front of this school and inspired us all. We Matrics can leave now, knowing that this school is in good hands.”’
So now I am changing my title again, and should it now be: Am I leaving the school in good hands?
Can I ask you to give these four courageous Wynbergians the applause they deserve?
Another memory I have is that of Staff Camps. Yes, just like the Grade camps, we as staff went away on a staff camp – often every second year, usually after winter sport finished in the third term.
I would like to tell you about a speaker we had at one of the camps. He was a Wynberg Old Boy from the world of advertising. He asked a question of the staff which changed my thinking on the future direction of Wynberg. He asked: What makes a Wynberg Boy different from a boy from any other school?
That sounds like an even better title for this talk…
He pointed out that our uniform is similar to several other schools / our academic results are similar to other boys’ schools / our sport is similar –one year we win at the first team level, and the next year they may win. So, he said again, What Is the Difference?
Although we debated it at length, at that camp we never came up with a definitive answer. So, I did what all good principals do when at a loss and took the problem to the boys. At a session at that year’s Grade 11 camp, I asked the same question: What makes a Wynberg Boy different from a boy from any other school? They relished the challenge and came up with thirty points of difference. I told them that was showing off and I wanted just a few points which no school in the country would EVER do better than us.
In the end, we took the points to the boys in their tutor groups. Every boy voted and we took the top five.
I then asked Mrs Colman our Art Teacher to make up a diagram of these five points. ‘Easy’ she said, ‘just make it the five fingers of the hand.’
And so, it happened, and I had posters made for every classroom of a hand with the five points.
Every boy coming into the school had these drilled into them. This is what the Wynberg boys had decreed that no school would ever beat them at Values for Life:
- Pinkie: Friendliness
- Ring Finger: Manners
- Long finger: Pride – pride in uniform, performance, attitude, school spirit
- Forefinger: Aim High
- Thumb: Strongest finger, Supera Moras
Never Give Up:
- Though you may play A-team rugby, cricket, polo, tennis, basketball, or squash, if you do not play according to the values of the five Wynberg fingers, then you must realise that you are a mere muscle machine.
- Though you balance your sporting ability with academic brilliance and are involved in many cultural activities in the school, if you do not involve yourself with the Wynberg values, then you are just a statistic.
- If you do not listen to the cries of others, and hear their voices, then you are ignoring the Wynberg values and are just an empty shell.
- If you make other people who are different from you, feel accepted and help them to gain confidence in themselves, then you do understand the Wynberg Values.
- When you understand that Wynberg values last long after sporting success is forgotten; long after matric results are a mere memory; long after the school badges have been lost in desk drawers, then you will be, a Wynberg Man.
- Wynberg values will enable you to look forward to the time when you will be a truly real human being; really authentic; and the true self that God intended you to be.
My advice to you all on this, the most important day in the school calendar, it is that success at Wynberg is not necessarily having your name on the board, or badges on your blazer, but real success is how you become the role model of the Wynberg values for those who follow… so that they, in turn can continuing building up this great school.
That is the challenge that our annual Founders’ Day lays down for you.
I started with memories and now I finish with a very personal one. It was when I arrived at Rondebosch one Saturday as the first team coach for a cricket game many years ago. I was greeted by my Rondebosch compatriot with the words ‘Oh no, not Wynberg, I hate playing Wynberg. You guys never know when to give up.’
Now that would be a really good title for today, wouldn’t it: ‘You guys never know when to give up.’
That was about the greatest compliment anyone could ever pay the school and now YOU have to carry on that tradition.
Derrick, Andrew, Garreth, and Guy you have all inspired me to make this speech through your actions at school, and afterward. I have no doubt, Andrew, that every Wynberg Man in this hall will now know that there IS such a thing as Truth; that if you can do something, as both Derrick and Garreth said, then now is the right time for YOU to take your turn to stand up and be counted; and finally to you all, when the time comes for you to leave the school, make sure by your personal courageous actions that, like Guy, people will say, that you left it in good hands.
Now it is over to you to make your memories.
