As a hall warden, I usually only get to know students during their first year when they are residents in my hall. Not being teaching staff there isn't a lot of scope for following people right through their courses here. But having a bar on site means that sometimes a few stay around the place as student staff at the bar. Last night the bar manager threw a party to celebrate his big three-oh and invited as many of the students that have worked for him in his eight years here as he could contact.

Many old faces, much excited squealing as people met those they hadn't seen for years, sharing fond or not so fond memories of Saturday nights crammed in behind a sweltering bar together pandering to the seemingly unquenchable alcohol dependency of their fellow students. But one in particular was an inspiring story of dedication and vocation. I like to think I got on well with this chap - he was quite a "lad" throughout the four (or maybe five) years he studied and worked here. An all round good egg.

He's now teaching in a large Oxford secondary school of which I was once a governor. He'd spent some time at another, in a more prosperous area of town and didn't really like it by the sound of it - the challenge of nurturing, shall we say, less disadvantaged kids had not been there. He had tried a spell at a Buckinghamshire grammar school and had hated the pushiness of kids of pushy ambitious parents.

So he had jumped at the chance of a permanent job at a school that has many more challenges - the highest ethnic mix in Oxfordshire, most kids from parts of Oxford that score highly (if that's the right word) in Indices of Multiple Deprivation, a school with a challenging, almost schizophrenic history of its own as a grant aided former boys school (T E Lawrence's Alma Mater) suddenly pushed into threefold expansion when the county changed from a two tier to three tier system a few years back.

And, by the sounds of it, he's absolutely loving it. Maybe it's just youth in the first flush of career satisfaction as yet untainted with cynicism, but he doesn't want to be a manager. He doesn't want to be head of a subject area, just in order to be able to progress onto a decent living wage. He wants to nurture kids. He's absolutely dedicated to bringing out the potential of pupils whose backgrounds make it all the harder for them to break out. He relishes the pastoral side and drawing out young successes. You wouldn't have him down as one of these fabled "right on" hippy dude educationalists on a mission to indoctrinate.

He'd love to stay there. He, and I, think that his particular school has massive potential to improve thee lives of those who pass through its doors and a positive contribution to a slightly down at heel part of this world-class educational city. But he can't. He can't afford to. After four years of scrimping his way through university and a couple of years now, I think, of starting salary, he's got little or no hope of being able to afford to make a real home for himself in Oxford. He's still flitting between shorthold tenancies like so many young professional people here. Even the government welched on its deal to pay off the student loans they imposed on him for agreeing to teach maths.

If he ends up having to take time out to earn some decent money elsewhere I hope he'll come back - it'll certainly be a big loss to those kids he's made it his entire ambition to serve if he doesn't. What I really hope actually is that I can get Oxfordshire Community Land Trusts off the ground quickly enough to keep him here and give people like him some real security if they choose to enhance this city with their skills and dedication.

What happened to the era (maybe it's only a nostalgic fiction) where school teachers were amongst the most valued members of the community, not perhaps big earners, but looked after by the communities that hired them to give their young a good chance in life? Those figures like Jude Fawley's Mr Phillotson. It reminded me of some words of Michael Moore:

Teachers, thank you so much for devoting your life to my child. Is there ANYTHING I can do to help you? Is there ANYTHING you need? I am here for you. Why? Because you are helping my child - MY BABY - learn and grow. Not only will you be largely responsible for her ability to make a living, but your influence will greatly affect how she views the world, what she knows about other people in this world, and how she will feel about herself. I want her to believe she can attempt anything - that no doors are closed and no dreams are too distant. I am entrusting the most valuable person in my life to you for seven hours each day. You are, thus, one of the most important people in my life! Thank you. ("Stupid White Men", Regan Books, HarperCollins New York, 2001)

And it made me want to take an interest again as a governor...and maybe do a bit better at it this time round.

And it was probably the first time in ten years I've managed to stagger out of a bar into the six am blinding daylight - I hope the Hinksey Park campaigners will forgive my self-indulgence!

Technorati Tags: affordable housing, education, oxford, Oxford Brookes University