Jan Morice, Teacher

The Hippie School Teacher of the 1970s

In 1972 I had a mass of long black curly hair, a lot of Mexican embroidered dresses, wore stilettos or high boots to school every day, and smoked Kool cigarettes in the staffroom with the other teachers at every opportunity. The Vietnam war was almost over, Gough Whitlam had come to power and women were told by other women that they could do anything. The young staff were wearing mini-dresses, in spite of a few disapproving looks from older staff members My husband was the Administrator of the Old Tote Theatre Company (later to become the Sydney Theatre Company) and I took groups of girls regularly to the theatre, which we all loved and which I have been doing ever since. One of the most exciting productions of that year was Jesus Christ Superstar, starring Trevor White as Jesus and Jon English as Judas. The designer was a friend and had used film we had taken in Ethiopia during the festival of Timkat as inspiration for the spectacular processions in the production. We were invited to the first night where I met Trevor and Jon. I took a group of girls a few nights later and they were ecstatic.

‘I wish the whole school could see it, or at least hear some of the music. It’s truly exciting.’

Then I had an idea.

Next day I went to the Principal, Miss Chisholm and somewhat breathlessly asked her if I could invite the stars of Jesus Christ Superstar to sing at assembly. It was a little bit cheeky, but she immediately agreed!

I asked the two leads and I must have been persuasive because a week later, Trevor White was sitting at the grand piano with Jon English standing beside him at 8.30 in the morning in the SCEGGS hall, and the two young male voices filled the space, belting out song after song from the show. The children went wild and the staff did too, dancing singing and cheering along with two young musical theatre stars, who normally got up at midday. There was so much joy that morning, and one I will never forget. But that was just the beginning.

The hippie English and Drama teacher then decided to have the courage to ask for something much bigger. This time, with my friend, Anne Thompson, the art teacher, (later the Winner of the Wynne Prize in 1998) we knocked on the Principal’s door together. ‘The times, they were a’changing’!

‘Good morning Miss Chisholm. We would like to take the Year 10 girls on a camp to Kangaroo Valley. We know it has never been done before, but it would be a great experience for the girls.’

 When it was a ‘Yes, but be careful’ we admired the Principal even more. The blue-stocking school was changing.

‘We will be, we promise.’

Anne and I wanted to give the girls a taste of the current vibe; making candles, getting up early to listen to the dawn chorus, swimming and canoeing in the river, singing round the campfire, making art, making movies, and taking our own children as well. Anne’s Katie was 7, and my two, Tara and Dominic were 8 and 6.

And we did it all!

The girls had hours of fun with the little ones, lots of piggy-backs, hide-and-seek, and Elizabeth Elliot, aged 15, (now Professor Elliot AM  for services to paediatrics and child health and Winner of the James Cook medal awarded by the Royal Society of NSW for contributions to human welfare) made an exciting movie about getting lost and found in the bush with Tara in her first starring role and everyone else stars along with her.

Miss Chisholm came to visit.

I was very excited to show her everything, from the scented candles to the magical swimming spot. Leading her through the bush towards the river, I froze – there was a very large snake on the path in front of me. I didn’t think the Principal needed to see that.

‘Oh, look, Miss Chisholm, up there in the tree. Can you see the black cockatoo?’

But all was well. The snake disappeared into the long grass, everyone had so much fun and the tradition of SCEGGS school camps had begun!

Fifty years ago teaching was so magical. We could veer off in all sorts of directions in English lessons and even outside the classrooms. One day Grade 7 was reading a poem about a dogman ( a construction worker who climbed on to steel beams and was carried up with them on a crane, swinging nonchalantly by one hand above the city) and I glanced out of the window. There were real cranes a kilometre away. I looked at the bowed heads in their blue uniforms and decided. I raced to the Principal.

‘Can I take the children to see a real dogman?”

‘Yes, but again, Janet be careful.’

‘Where are we going Mrs. Morice?’

‘It’s a secret until we get there.’

The group of Year 7’s were in awe.

‘Is he really going up?’

‘I certainly am.’

The dogman was ready to show off. He hadn’t ever had such an audience.

‘No, it’s not scary, just really great fun. Now you need to get out of the way.’

Twenty faces turned up towards the crane, breaths were held, squeaks of excitement were heard and the dogman waved cheerfully to the little blue figures below as he rose majestically skywards, leaving them far below in the middle of trucks and workmen and bricks and concrete.

‘That was the best secret Mrs. Morice.’

And 20 little girls trotted back to school and couldn’t wait to tell their friends about the adventure. We were back in time for lunch.

‘Miss Chisholm, could we be the first school to take a group of girls to China?’

But this time I had gone a little too far.