‘We should be proud of St Christopher’s’

If you have spent any significant time in Bristol – perhaps you grew up here, or moved here for University and stayed, or moved here to make Bristol your new home – then, chances are you know of St Christopher’s School.

I feel like everyone that I meet either knows someone who works there or someone who has worked there. It is, in every sense of the phrase, a Bristol stalwart that has stood strong for almost 70 years.

The school, situated in North Bristol just off the Downs by White Tree roundabout, and currently providing residential care and schooling for 38 pupils, is scheduled to close at the end of March 2016. The whats, the whys, and the hows are for another time but, in short, the the school has become “economically unviable”.

The school was the brainchild of the visionary Catherine Grace OBE. Miss Grace, as she was known, opened the school in 1945 with just six pupils. Her objective was to try and educate the “non-educable.”

Although, obviously, such an assessment of the young people who frequent the school has changed in accordance with sociable awareness, the overall objective remains the same. To offer the chance of education, opportunity and care for those who may not be able access suchlike in a conventional educational setting.

Word of the schol’s closure came about at the end of last week and, as you would expect, the news was greeted with great sadness from all those associated with St Christopher’s.

The 38 young people currently residing at St Christopher’s will have to be found new provision by their local authorities. This, I am sure, will be the toughest part of the closure. Many of the young people who live at the school have done so for many years and the disruption and upheaval will have a profound affect on their lives.

Since the announcement of the school’s closure it has come under fire from some quarters. It is fair to say the the school had fallen from a rating of “good” to “inadequate”, a judgement many people thought was unfair, in the last couple of years.

But looking at this alone fails to take into account the vast legislative changes that have occurred during this time and the affect it has had on the care sector in general.

I myself have worked at the School for the past few years. In my comparatively short time there I have met some of the kindest, most hard-working and caring people that one could ever be lucky enough to meet. The school harbours an ethos and an environment that are both, in my experience, unique.

When I first started working at St Christopher’s my friends and family asked me, as is the norm, how my new job was going. At first I replied in a cordial fashion, as my job had indeed started well. However, within a few weeks my response had changed.

My job was still going well, but there was something else more pressing in my mind about my new place of employment. I felt the work that was going on at St Christopher’s was something amazing. Something that whoever was questioning me should also be proud of.

The school is funded by the tax-payer. In a world where even the value of paying tax seems diminished and where there is a lack of public support for how said tax is spent, or not spent as the case may be, St Christopher’s was doing things that could be deemed genuinely good. I felt people should be happy and made aware of the fact that their hard-earned cash was going to such good use.

Now, when I am asked about how I feel about the schools closure, my reply is simple. Come the end of March I will be unemployed and I will have lost the best job I’ve ever had. My own personal situation is, of course, of little or no significance when one looks at the bigger picture.

I have many friends whom I work with who have young families, or mortgages, or both, or who are not residents in this country and therefore may not have the support networks I and others have. For these people, the future must seem worryingly uncertain.

Yet, of course, the biggest heartache of all is reserved for the young people themselves and their families who will have to cope with much change, worry and uncertainty in the not to distant future.

The closing of the school seems unstoppable. It has gotten to a situation beyond the point of no return. So, where does it go from now? Thankfully our provision for 19-25-year-olds will be unaffected by all this, and it would be great if in years to come this part of the charity could grow and grow.

Anyone who has ever had an association with the school, given money or time to its existence, who has been to a Christmas fair, or donated anything to a jumble sale, anyone who has shown that moment of extra care when noticing a young person out and about: They should all hold their heads up high knowing that they, in some way, contributed to the wonderful 70 years that the school has been going.

And to the dedicated staff, to those who have given up years, decades even: You should be very proud of the difference you have made to literally thousands of peoples lives. It’s genuinely a tragedy that the school, in its current form, is due to close.

I’m sure I’m one of many who would like to say thank you to Miss Grace for her vision. As well as all those who have made the school what it is… was.