Life Trove

In South Africa, the Matric Dance is the undisputed peak of the school social calendar. It’s a night of high-stakes glamour, tuxedos, and fl...

Growing up, my mother was the silent, steady heartbeat of my rugby career. I have the most heart-warming memories of her standing in the pou...

In 1984, my school world shifted. We moved away from the dour, strict atmosphere of the previous headmaster and into the era of Mr. Cannon. ...

When I was in high school, our mathematical world was presided over by Mr. Norton. To our teenage eyes, he seemed ancient—at least eighty ye...

In my early school days, I was the quintessential nerd—more likely to be found in the library than on the rugby pitch. My athletic career st...

Before I was born, my parents engaged in a titanic struggle over my identity. My father was determined to name me Lambert, after his own fat...

At school, some teachers—especially the formidable Miss Mallet—were legendary for their "clean plate" policy. This was no issue fo...

In high school, we were plagued by a phantom prankster whose commitment to the bit was truly terrifying. We never did find out who it was, b...

When I was seven, an operation left both my legs in heavy plaster casts. For six long weeks, I was confined to a wheelchair, which created a...

Once again, Matt excelled in his exams and walked away with multiple certificates and medals at his school prize giving.  He clearly has a ...

Mr Suttle taught me Latin through my senior school years.  He taught us Latin translation (using brilliant texts he'd developed himself)...

One of my favourite and most influential teachers at St Georges was beautiful Jenny Mallett. Jenny was a veritable force of nature.  A large...