The Shoeshine Club

These last two weeks have been living proof that through perseverance, effort, commitment and belief anything can happen. Our boys are proof that great things happen when work ethic plus consistency meet, then all things are possible. We have had a number of awards functions over the last three weeks. I was fortunate to sit and marvel at the ability of our boys, their willingness to be taught and coached, and the eagerness to action what they have been taught. The certificates and the prizes at the end of the journey aren’t what’s great, instead it’s the determination to get there. That’s what has humbled and impressed me most; their ability to stay the course.

Congratulations to all of our boys. I am very proud of you.

The Shoeshine Club

It wasn’t a name that I gave the club, the kids did. I couldn’t think of a name but I guess that’s what we did from 7:30am until 8:40am most Fridays at my school in Croydon. We shined shoes.

The club started after I was at a Year 9 Football match and I walked into the changing sheds just in time for the team talk. I looked at our boys and every single one of them had football boots that hadn’t been cleaned, I don’t think ever.

After the game I said to the entire team, “Bring your boots to school tomorrow and we’ll clean them together outside my office at 7:30am. I’ll bring breakfast and shoe polish”.

I got the toast and cereal sorted and I put out the shoe polish, cloths and brushes. I thought if I could get three or four boys turning up, I would be happy. I was blown away when the boys started trickling in from about 7:15am. By 7:45am every boy was there with boots in hand. I showed them how to scrape the dirt off and wipe their boots down. How much shoeshine to put on their brushes and how to buff their boots at the end. We ate breakfast together and we admired our handy work.

The Shoeshine Club was born. It morphed into mainly bringing school shoes. Sometimes the students didn’t have any shoes but just wanted something to eat. The club members told people that everyone was welcome.  We had boys and girls from all different year groups. We averaged about 20-25 kids each week. It wasn’t the shining of shoes that was the priority, it was the sitting and talking and listening that was at the heart of the club. The advice was given by everyone, and the advice was taken by everyone, including me. I always looked forward to it.

One Friday, one of my girls, Janaya, said, “Sir, can Jamal join in?” I said, “Of course, is he here?” She said, “Yes, Sir, I’ll go and get him.” Jamal came in and he looked tired. He was in Year 8. He had a supermarket bag with his shoes in it.  He had been to the club a few times in the past. We shook hands. I said, “Jamal, let’s have something to eat first, you look tired. We can sort your shoes out after you eat.” He said, “I’m not hungry, Sir, and these aren’t my shoes. Can I still polish them?” He pulled them out and they were a size 14 pair of black Oxford shoes. They had seen better days.

I said “Whose shoes are they?” He said, “They are my big brother’s shoes, Sir.” I said, “Your big brother is so lucky to have you. We’ll get them shining like new. I’ll do the right shoe and you do the left one.” Jamal sat down and as we started tears rolled down his cheeks. Startled, I stopped and said “Jamal what’s the matter?” He looked up, tears streaming down his face. “My brother has been killed, Sir, and I just want him to have nice shoes on when he walks to heaven.”

It took me a moment to comprehend what Jamal had said. Tears started to well up in my eyes.

As I looked around the students that were assembled you could have heard a pin drop. I said, “Let’s leave these here and we can sort them out later”. I called my SLT and school counsellors who swooped in to pick up all the students that were there. I called Jamal’s Nan and she came into school. Jamal’s big brother had been killed. He was only 16. Nan looked after all of Jamal’s siblings, five in total. Jamal was now the oldest.

We met with Nan and talked about how we could support her, Jamal and his siblings. Jamal said, “Sir, can we go and polish my brother’s shoes?” Nan said that they had some time so we walked back to my office. Jamal’s brother’s shoes were sitting by my desk. They had been polished so well you could almost see your reflection in them. Jamal said “Sir, did you polish them?” I said, ‘No Jamal, I don’t know who did.”

I went next door to my PA’s office and I said, “Who polished Jamal’s brother’s shoes?” She looked up and I could see she had been crying. She said, “The kids refused to leave your office until they had polished his shoes. They passed them around and they all took turns. They left a note inside one of the shoes for Jamal. When I read it I couldn’t stop crying.”

I went back into my office and told Jamal that the students had all polished his brother’s shoes. I told him there is a note inside one of the shoes for you. Jamal reached in and pulled out a piece of paper. He looked at it and he closed his eyes and smiled. His Nan took the piece of paper from Jamal and as she read it, she started to cry.

Nan handed the note to me. It only had four words written on it. I think they were the most beautiful words I had ever read. The note said, “We are your family.”

I have been more than blessed to be a teacher and to witness huge acts of kindness and empathy in times of trauma and pain.

Much of this aroha has come from students.

I believe, with every fibre of my being, that today’s young people are incredible. We get to witness our boys coming in at Year 9 and then leaving us in Year 13 as fabulous young men ready to take on the world. But more importantly, they stand ready to serve and to help others in need.

I won’t say goodbye to those that are leaving but instead I’ll say, “See you again.” I leave all WC boys who are off to new places next year with the words of the Shoeshine Club: “We are your family.”

Glen Denham

Headmaster