Like many of my generation, I was the first in my family to go to university. Neither my parents, not my grandparents, nor any of my older cousins had so much as applied to enter a university - most had not stayed in education beyond the standard school leaving age (13, 14 or 15 at that time).
My father had actually passed the entrance exam for his local grammar school, and had been successful in obtaining his School Certificate in 1937 - involving passing English, Maths, Science, Geography and German to get what will soon (it seems) be re-created as the English Bacc. A tiny proportion of 16 year olds in his day achieved such a qualification. There was some consideration that my father might go on to study for the Higher School Certificate (the equivalent of A levels). But the Head Teacher asked to see my grandfather - a printer's machine minder who spent his life on night shifts - and told him that there was little point in my father continuing at school since my grandfather had no business or profession to hand on to his son and more education in the small town they lived in would be a waste of time: better to get my father into a job as soon as possible. My father started off as a general trainee in the post office, followed his own father into printing and then publishing, and ended his career as a personnel officer in the BBC.
My father was a very intelligent and able man whose potential was partly unfulfilled as a result of that decision about his future when he was 16 - an observation I made when I gave the eulogy at his funeral in 1998. He was keen on poetry, could complete the Guardian crossword each day during his 25 minute train journey to work in central London, loved using logarithms to solve 'big sums', and in his 70s researched a dissertation on the history of the local almshouses in order to 'pass' a test to become a local heritage guide. Yet somehow he always lacked the confidence that could have been his had he had the chance to pursue his education further - to the age of 18 or (as I believe he could have done) beyond.
This week we have been welcoming our new undergraduate students. Their opportunities are so much greater now than they were in my father's day, or even than they were in the early post-Robbins expansion period when I was singled out by my school as someone with the potential to go further (the reverse of what happened to my father). But I know that there are still some young people whose potential remains unexplored and who are not encouraged to think of university as a reasonable goal, or as a path to a wider and more fulfilling life. Many of my generation have, or had, fathers or mothers whose lives could have been different if they had not been blocked by the discouraging of educational ambition. And we as a university must do everything we can to prevent that happening for today's school leavers.
Every year during Intro Week I wear one of my father's favourite ties. It's a small gesture, but something of him finally gets into a university by my doing so.
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