SCHOOL TALES: Rutland Street National School became famous after ‘Give Up Yer Aul Sins’ became a hit, and a move to a new building has done nothing to dampen the pupils’ enthusiasm, and love of a good story, writes ÁINE KERR
JUST BEFORE Christmas three years ago, the 93 pupils of Rutland Street National School in Dublin’s inner city picked up their books and bags and marched out of the building and around the corner into Seán McDermott Street. Parents, local residents and past students gathered to watch the stream of students and teachers on the move. They didn’t turn back.
As they walked away from a school made famous by the recording, radio slot and animated film Give Up Yer Aul Sins , an era came to an end. A short walk brought the entourage to a new four-storey building that would become their new home from home – the Lourdes parish school.
The Rutland Street pupils and staff left behind a 100-year-old building with sewage problems, an unpredictable heating system and a yard with buildings on stilts. During a heavy downpour of rain, the school kitchen was generally out of bounds. Windows were made from reinforced perspex rather than glass, after years of vandalism. And because the perspex became discoloured and foggy, the classrooms offered few glimpses of the outside world, and little natural daylight.
But while the building’s lamented frailties often frustrated teachers and pupils, it also unified them, gave them a sentimental attachment and a common identity. Out of that came a sense of community that the staff, board of management, parents and pupils managed to bottle when they moved building.
The new school building, costing €8 million, offered a rooftop playground, recreation hall, library, parents’ room, and canteen. It marked an extraordinary change in the lives of the 93 pupils, who spent the initial period trying to navigate four floors and doors that required fobs swiped past security pads to open.
But while the physical environment proved dramatically different to everything they had known, the faces, the personalities, the school spirit and morale remained constant, according to principal Darina Burke. “We always had a great sense of spirit and I was worried it might be difficult to translate that, but I had worried unjustly because there is an amazing staff here with an amazing ethos,” she says.
The school’s population has grown to 130, in addition to the 90 children in the pre-school. Every morning at 8.30am, the canteen becomes the hub for all activity, the place where everyone converges to mark the start of the day, over breakfast. The school has been a long-time participant in the school meals scheme. That means it serves yogurts, cereal, toast, and the dreaded porridge during winter months. With tummies fed and morning catch-ups complete, pupils are collected in the canteen by their teachers to begin the day’s work. Later, they will return for dinner, under the direction of Betty in the kitchen. Wednesday is a favourite as all are agreed on the merits of a good curry. Fish is served on Friday, with coddle, spaghetti Bolognese and lasagne on the menu on the other days. On December 21st, coinciding with the school’s second anniversary, they will gather for a traditional Christmas dinner of turkey, ham, stuffing and potatoes.
Thanks to the Give Up Yer Aul Sins recording, Rutland Street is synonymous with the funny and animated voices of children in Dublin’s inner city. Back in 1976 Fr Brian Darcy removed a discarded reel tape from a waste paper basket in his parish in Booterstown, and the children’s voices of the 1960s were rediscovered.
Curious about the strong Dublin accents and the power of these children to unlock childhood memories, Fr Darcy eventually tracked down the person who had created the recordings. His inquiries brought him to the attic of retired teacher Peg Cunningham, who had taught in the school throughout the 1960s. She had purchased a tape player and encouraged children to retell stories in their own words in an effort to learn their Bible, all the while incentivising them with talk of ending up on the radio.
Cunningham kept the tapes for some 30 years. Fr Darcy made copies and excerpts of those stories featured extensively on radio, prompting massive feedback from listeners.
Eventually, EMI records secured the rights from Cunningham. A cassette of the stories was released in 1990. In 2000, a CD version followed, and then in 2002, world recognition came with the release of the animation by Brown Bag Films. In pursuing the tapes and bringing them to an audience, Fr Darcy ensured that Cunningham kept her word – those children of the 1960s ended up on the radio.
Fr Michael Casey, until recently the school’s local parish priest and chairman of the board of management, says that within the school itself, fame and attention was never the main draw or talking point as regards the recordings. “But the spirit, the spirit you see in Give Up Yer Aul Sins , that was active and alive in the children there,” he says.
“Innately, the children of Rutland Street are very good story tellers, they love music, they love performing and they have a great confidence. We’ve always tried to build on that.”
Fr Casey arrived in Rutland Street 14 years ago, and even then knew that a new school was urgently required. The building itself was, Fr Casey concedes, visually uninspiring, as the building had become very run down.
“But once you walked inside those doors, you entered another world. The inside was a much different place, a place of life, spirit and creativity. There was a buzz, an engagement . . . such a contradiction between the external and internal,” he says.
Today the sound of singing voices, enthusiastic “Please Miss” cries, and children giggling, reverberates around the corridors of Rutland National School. Art works cover the walls, and sunlight streams in through the windows. It is altogether different.
The pupils are just as animated and endearing as their 1960s predecessors whose voices have become known all around the world. They are perhaps more street-wise and self-aware than the famous past pupils. Senior infants, aged six and seven, are experts on all things concerning Santa. Tegan, who has already written to Santa with her temporary Christmas address abroad, is determined in her argument that Santa has a “magic key” for gaining entry to houses around the world. Tyreik and Katelyn aren’t convinced, and argue it’s “magic dust”. Daire has an altogether different theory. “He has a code . . . it’s ho,ho, ho. That opens the doors,” he says emphatically, before Nathan insists Santa simply has to slide down chimneys like a snake.
While they differ on Santa’s magical powers, they agree on his dietary requirements. Dylan, Nathan, Michael, Dennis and Karimah agree on leaving out milk, cookies and carrots. Abbie opts for one further measure – a Yop, figuring that Santa “gets a bit thirsty on the way”.
Upstairs, the third class group are an agreeable bunch when it comes to matters concerning Christmas. If Santa could bring a surprise for those they love the most, it would involve something soothing. Jade would request a “sofa massager”. Victor would like “lovely shoes” for his mother. Nadia would like a new bed for her parents, and Dabbie would grant her loved ones a “big massaging bed”.
For Elle, in fifth class, the Olly Murs album is the present of choice for her mother, while Kome is saving to buy his mother the commemorative Micheal Jackson album and Kisha has picked Rihanna’s album for her mother. Adam is remaining practical. “I’m getting them cups,” he says matter of factly. “For tea.”
Their best Christmas memories generally revolve around snow. “I loved making snow angels in the snow,” says Ali, motioning her arms in the air like scissors.
Many of the children are fanatical about phones, with some expecting to get their first mobile phone this Christmas. Adam is hoping for a PSP-style phone, Ali wants a Blackberry, Elle is giving her Blackberry to her mother and getting a HTC phone, while Cassidy is opting for an iPhone. Amanda, in third class, is philosophical. “The best part is eating with your family and celebrating and opening presents.”
The new school, coming after years of lobbying and planning at the height of the economic boom, is a place where outside of school hours, local residents come in for music workshops, physiotherapy, or, recently, a debate on austerity hosted by journalist Vincent Browne.
“For me personally, that was one of the hopeful things about living in the inner city, because it has its own problems which are well documented . . . but this school is unique. It’s a flagship in the community, a centre of education,” says Fr Casey.
The day the children left Rutland Street for their new school and walked up Sean McDermott Street with their books in baskets, there was excitement in their eyes, he says. It was a new chapter, a new beginning. “There was something very symbolic about it. It was stating something about the value of the children. They deserved this building and the building itself will enhance their work, will help them to work together, stay knitted together.”
Comments are closed.