Into the Light

My Mum used to always leave the light on for my Dad. He did lots of shift work and would come home at 2am or 3am in the morning. He said it was always nice to come home to the light.

I would hear my Mum get up in those wee small hours, and heat up Dad's dinner. Sometimes I would get up as well and sit on my Dad’s knee, and we would eat his dinner together. Sometimes all of us got up and, although my Dad was a big man, fitting three kids on one lap was always a stretch. Mum would say, "You kids have had your dinner, leave your Dad alone." Dad would say, "It’s okay, honey." My sister would pipe up and say, "That's right, honey, it’s okay."

My Dad had two jobs in order to keep food on the table and the lights on. They were labouring jobs and poorly paid. He always had really tough, gnarled, calloused hands.

When Dad died I was 11. I was a student at MacAndrew Intermediate in South Dunedin. The first day back at school after Dad’s tangi was difficult. I didn't want to be different from the other kids. I wanted to pretend that my Dad was still alive. That I hadn't been at his tangi, and that I had just been away on a holiday. My Mum came to school with me and I waited in the reception. The receptionist said that I could go to class now. I was dreading it. I walked into the classroom and all the kids looked up and stared at me. I knew that they knew my Dad had died. I felt a huge wave of embarrassment come over me. My face was bright red. Mr Kerr, my teacher, said, "Keep working," and everyone looked at their desks. He nodded to me and nodded at my desk. I sat down and felt like crying. I got my maths book out and just stared at it. Mr Kerr was walking up and down the rows. He walked past my desk and put his hand on my shoulder and gently squeezed it. I looked up and he looked so sad.

The bell rang and I went to the playground and ended up getting into a fight with another boy. I received a bleeding nose and a black eye. I just wanted to go home. I got sent to the Principal's office and Mr Kerr and Mr Craig, our Principal, were talking. I was desperate for them to yell at me and send me home. Mr Craig asked me to come and take a seat in his office. His secretary gave me a handkerchief for my nose and a glass of water. Mr Craig looked at me and said, "I know you have had a huge thing happen in your life. It's okay son, it will be okay, we have got you. It's okay to cry. We are here." I burst into tears. I can't quite describe the kindness that was afforded to me that day. The feeling that it was okay to be vulnerable and it was okay to cry. I think it was the first time that I thought that I might want to be a teacher.

You may have seen that we have placed a light above the lamp at the north end of the tower block. You will be able to see it at night, from some distance. It's a way of letting people know that we are here and we can help. It's important that we always keep the light on for our boys. It's okay to be vulnerable and it's okay to cry. As you know our school motto is 'Lumen Accipe et Imperti' - Receive the Light and Pass it on. Light brings clarity and understanding. It brings warmth and comfort and allows us to see what's ahead of us. It illuminates all the things that are with us.

To our boys, no matter where you are or how old you get, in the toughest times, in the darkest moments the light will always be on here for you at Wellington College.

We have got you and we are here.

Glen Denham

Headmaster