A Chapel Chat

"I was just thinking about that chapel talk that you gave when you came back, it was one of the talks that I remembered!!! It was sooooo good!!!!" -one of my Uppingham girls. This message totally made my day because making a positive impression on students is what every teacher lives for... especially when they remember your words of wisdom many months later! What can I say, despite a severe aversion to most things religious, I (surprisingly) deliver a killer speech from the pulpit. In fact, I've spoken to the Uppingham community twice now. My most recent chapel talk is saved on Steph's computer (and Steph is down a cave in Wales at the moment), but the first one can be found by clicking 'see individual post' below. Enjoy!

Miss Whitney J. Spivey
Uppingham School Chapel Talk
May 3, 2007

I am 23 years old. I’m leaving in two months, so I feel I can tell you that. Twenty-three years old. That’s only four years older than the oldest of you and only nine years older than the youngest of you. I have brothers your ages and many of you have siblings my age. Although I am a ‘teacher,’ ‘resident tutor’ and ‘coach,’ I am really not that far removed from you, and I hope that over the next ten minutes you are able to connect with something I say.

I came to England on a mission: to meet and marry Prince William (who said anything about teaching?!). This goal had not been realized by the end of my first year working as a history teacher here, so I had no choice but to remain at Uppingham for another three terms. Twelve more months of eating potatoes, driving on the left side of the road and constantly being reminded that American English is not "proper English." Could I survive missing another football season, celebrating Thanksgiving by myself and watching my inbox grow larger and larger as I continue to communicate via email with family and friends? I convinced myself I simply had to deal with such dilemmas in order to obtain my true love.

Alas, as my second year in Great Britain draws to a close, despite recent events in Will’s love life, I realize that perhaps my relationship with Prince Charming is not meant to be after all. I find myself facing a giant void. Without pursuing a prince, how shall I spend my time?

I’ve decided to move on (that’s what Will would want), and despite not marrying (or even meeting) the man of my dreams, I want to fly away from England having really made the most of my time here. I have 61 days left in this country and I intend to take advantage of every opportunity that comes my way while building on my experiences of the past year and a half.

And what experiences they’ve been! I came to Uppingham two years ago knowing absolutely nothing about the British school system, besides what I had read in Harry Potter. I expected a stern-faced Professor McGonagall look-alike to collect me from the Oakham train station. Instead I was met by a smiling Mrs Gaine in flowery tracksuit bottoms and a Lodge rugby shirt. I was delighted.

In the days since that sunny August afternoon, Uppingham has morphed from a sort of weird, long-term vacation destination into my home. With the exception of the winter weather and the sports hall, I can honestly say that I love it here. I love the school, the kids, the town. I love the Friday market and the long summer days. I like being able to walk to work. I like feeling a part of the ‘Johnson’s family.” I like the overall atmosphere of this place. I love it because it is so British, so quaint and charming. I love it because it’s so different than the suburban America I grew up in. I love it for reasons that are difficult to explain because I am a foreigner. You, the students, are Uppingham. Your personalities, your interests, your successes and your failures make this school what it is. You are consumed by this institution and may not see things that are blatantly apparent to me, an outsider.

And one of the things I see is that, unfortunately, most of you are quite lazy. As much as I respect each and every one of you, it’s true. You’re lazy. You are spoon-fed by the adults around you – men and women who work so hard to make your time here enjoyable and worthwhile. And yet somehow, all the essays we make you write, all the preps we make you complete, and all the laps we make you run pay off and some university thinks you are a self-motivated overachiever and agrees to let you into a course. And then we throw you a gigantic Leavers’ Ball and allow you to get plastered as if to say well done for all your hard work. On a side note, did you know that the expression ‘plastered’ comes from back in the day when carpenters would mix white wine with plaster so that the material took longer to set. Afterwards, they would drink whatever wine was left over, hence the phrase ‘getting plastered.’ Just one of many random facts you’ll learn by visiting Burghley House!

Anyways, back to my point. I suppose what I’m saying is that in addition to being more appreciative of the efforts others are making on your behalf, don’t be afraid to take the initiative yourself to make your time here more worthwhile. Since moving abroad I have become much more aware of the importance of taking the initiative to make things happen in my life. Since August 2005, I have travelled to twelve countries, been live on Radio One, run two marathons, learned to drive on the left side of the road, gotten a kitten, kept in touch with family and friends 3,000 miles away, and incorporated an assortment of very odd words into my vocabulary (although I will never, ever, be able to say the word ‘loo’ without laughing). Perhaps individually these things do not seem significant, but collectively they have made me a more mature, independent, and confident young woman.

A more specific example – running. Running has always been something I enjoy. Last year I often ran by myself and it was fine. I would crank up the Ipod and run to and from nearby villages. In August, after a summer of working in Switzerland and eating entirely too much Swiss chocolate, I came back to England and needed some inspiration to get back out on the road. On a whim, I joined the Rutland Running Club. I figured if nothing else, it was a good excuse to get out of Uppingham a few times a week. I remember showing up for my first run and being greeted by an eclectic group of middle-aged men in spandex. Right, I thought. Let’s just see how it goes. And over the course of a few weeks I found myself looking forward to club runs – everyone was very welcoming and encouraging of my running. In October I was persuaded to enter the ballot for the London Marathon. This year, over 125,000 people entered the ballot. I didn’t think I stood a chance. But, as luck would have it, I checked my bank statement in December to find that I was £26 poorer and I knew I had gotten a spot. Being American, running in London is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I was eager to take on the challenge. I began training in January and carried on until April. There are certain sacrifices that go along with training for a marathon – shelling out money for good shoes, aches and pains the day after a long run, and budgeting in time to run while on holiday (let me tell you, running in Cairo is not a fun experience). There are however, many perks – being in the local newspaper, knowing I’m improving my endurance, doing well in the Routh, and of course running well on the big day. As many of you will already know, this year’s London Marathon was on 22 April, just about two weeks ago.

I had completed two marathons previously but was still a bit apprehensive on that Sunday morning. After all, a marathon is quite a long way. 26.2 miles. If all of you started running right now, most of you wouldn’t be finished by lunchtime. It took me three hours and fifty-nine minutes to finish the race. This was a one minute and twenty-four second improvement over my time in the 2006 Stockholm marathon. It wasn’t much, but it was a personal best time and I was pleased. I was also physically exhausted and in a tremendous amount of pain after the race and I swore I would never run again. Then I came home and registered for a Race for Life 5k at the end of May. What can I say, I like the challenge?

You may think I’m crazy for running 26 miles in 25-degree weather, but I certainly wasn’t the only one. Miss Schneider and Alice Parsons were there as well, along with 36,000 other people. And the thing is guys, that most of these people are not runners, perhaps they’re not even athletes at all. But they were out there because they wanted to prove that they could overcome a challenge. So many people ran for charities and in memory of loved ones who suffer or have passed away due to cancer or other illnesses. As the granddaughter of Parkinson’s and Prostate Cancer patients, my heart went out to these people – for many of them it was the only marathon they’ll ever run and I just thought they were so selfless to even attempt running so far for such good causes. I can only hope they crossed the finish line as satisfied as I did.

To those of you not athletically minded, you may not appreciate the sense of accomplishment that comes with a personal best time, but please try to understand the general idea behind what I’m saying. I didn’t know when I set out that I would achieve a personal best – I didn’t even know that I would survive the training. But I made a commitment and I stuck with it. I persevered and I am able to stand here today quite proud of my efforts two weeks ago. So I encourage you to do the same. Get involved, try everything, take the initiative to do things yourself and not just things teachers or your parents arrange for you. Even if you’re not sure of the end result, not sure if you’re going to like something or not, not sure what others will think – put all those concerns aside and just go for it. You never know what the outcome will be. The worst that will happen is nothing at all.

A year ago I would have been absolutely terrified of speaking in front of all of you in chapel. And although I am quite nervous today, I look at this speech as an opportunity to grow in confidence and as a milestone in my own personal history of public speaking. Every speech I make in the future will be a little easier because of this one. Speaking to you this morning is one of the last pieces of the giant Uppingham puzzle I’ve been putting together since 2005. So, thanks for listening, but before I go, and while I’m up here, can I just remind you that pants are worn on top of underwear, soccer is played on a field, Hoover was an American president, and trash goes in the trash can. That is all. Thank you.

We will now sing hymn number 18 (Amazing Grace).