ADAIR ON GREEN HILL
By Heather Smith in "Adair through the Ages" (2004)
In 1969, a site was bought from the Presbyterian Church, at the cost of £480, for the construction of a new school. Rev. Quelch was instrumental in the purchase of this lovely site, situated on a quiet, safe residential road on a sunny, south-facing site overlooking Fermoy. Then, in 1977, a pre-fabricated structure was erected which comprised of a large classroom, toilets and cloakroom facilities. Soon there was a grassed area and a tarmacadam area for play. The premises were bounded to the south by the Condons' beautiful shrubs, to the north and west by a laurel hedge separating the school from the McCarthys', and to the east by the road. A sense of neighbourliness prevailed.
Then in 1986, an enterprising group of parishioners, recognising the potential expansion of the school, rallied together and paid a second teacher to teach in Adair School from their own funds. Mrs. Hales joined the force and she and Mrs. Baylor taught in the same classroom until a temporary structure was erected beside the main building. This was affectionately known in the neighbourhood as "the egg carton." I became the assistant teacher and moved into this structure in 1988.
I taught in the deteriorating pre-fab for twelve years, and though it was a squashed environment, it never affected me unduly. The glasshouse temperatures in the summer simply provided opportunity for a bit of hedge schooling in the sun, and in the winter we revved up the heaters.
Funny incidences occurred from time to time over the years, and, of course, most of them are unrepeatable, but I recall a few. At one stage, I did a teaching stint on budgeting and value for money. Parents were allocated small groups of children and they went to the various shops around, comparing prices, etc. The children had a wonderful morning and they arrived back in school in a state of total relaxation and nicely full of sweets purchased by kind parents. As they lounged back and swung off the backs of the chairs, a knock came on the door. We had an unexpected visit from the local garda. Well, such was the behaviour induced by the break in routine that it never dawned on my erring pupils that a change of behaviour might now be required. In came the garda, and began questioning the pupils on Road Safety and the Rules of the Road for children on bicycles. With great panache, the children answered up like birdies, one foolish answer following another foolish answer. When in doubt, they cast an eye on the cyclist in the class, and they popped up their hands whenever he popped up his. Finally the garda left, having discovered, amongst other gems, that children should always cycle on the right hand side of the road, they could go either direction down one way streets because they weren't very big, that it didn't matter whether they wore a helmet or not because they couldn't go fast anyway, and that….they were emphatic about this, children should never cycle on the road…..just on the footpaths!
Another day, a new pupil to the school came racing across the tops of the tables during break time. As I rose to lecture her about good manners in Adair School, she sprang from the table to the floor, directly in front of me, and out shot a large black bull's eye that had lodged in her throat. Need I say that I heaved a sigh of relief!
One of the incidences that left me speechless as a teacher was an occasion when an intelligent lad was up beside me at the blackboard. I was attempting, unsuccessfully, to explain some mathematical concept. His face, set to the ground, was becoming more dour by the minute and I could see that he was becoming visibly upset by his inability to grasp the concept. So I said, "Don't worry. It will come after a while. You're only small. Give it time". With that, he looked up in annoyance, put both arms around me in a bear hug, swung me round in a circle and placed me unceremoniously back in my original spot. "Am I small now?" he said.
That reminds me of a woodland trek we had out in Glenseskin Wood when, horror of horror for a teacher, I lost a child! He just disappeared. Not a sign of him was to be seen. I scanned the area, expecting the playboy to pop out from behind a tree. No sign. I discreetly inquired about his whereabouts. No information. As I retraced my steps, I called his name. No response. Time passed and, as panic mounted, my pace increased. Finally, I was bellowing his name to the four winds. Everyone was on red alert. Search parties of children were sent in all directions. Every nook and cranny was examined. The woods were ringing with his name. My adrenaline at fever pitch, I eventually located my errant boy. Socks and shoes discarded, he was under the bridge gazing intently into the water, totally oblivious to the excitement he had generated. He looked up, spotted me and beamed. "Come here," he beckoned, "I've got some larvae to show you".
Over the years, I learned to appreciate the children I taught. When my oldest child, Carolyn, came into my room, I must have given her rather a hard time because, one lunch time, a group of children came in and very politely told me that they thought it unfair, the way I was treating her. I mended my ways and, ever after, derived pleasure from teaching my own offspring.
I have always found something infinitely sweet about children. I remember receiving a beautifully woven circle of dandelions to show how delighted the child was that I was going to have a baby, bunches of daffodils in Spring, a bottle of coveted deodorant, a square of matted carpet for my chair, etc. I enjoyed the evolving understanding of a child who explained that the monks brought people across the river on the "fairy" and that carrots were fossil fuels!
School is an interesting place to be. Each year I select a graded book programme, suitable to the needs of my pupils and the requirements of the curriculum. Given that I teach four classes, I follow this programme diligently each week so that a varied and progressive scheme is presented to different levels of pupils. That is the routine part of the job. Everything else is a "Pandora's Box of the Unexpected." and over the years we have done marvellous things and gone to marvellous places.
These activities are recorded in an annual magazine called "The Adair Voice" which has become a rather historical record of everyday life in the school since 1990. Each year the children select some of their best compositions during the year to slot into the appropriate sections. In 2002, Adair School were the regional winners of the Miwadi Cultural Awards for their magazine. Amidst great excitement, we all piled into Mrs. Forde's bus and headed for Dublin to receive our £2000 prize.
Project work leads us down unusual paths. Sometimes we put them in for competitions and in 2003 the children won a computer for a project organised by Fermoy Historical Society, but most of the time we do them just for fun. Over the years we've had winners in various competitions- prizes won in writing competitions, in the Sherkin Marine Environmental Awards and Fermoy Credit Union Poster Competitions, etc.
Most recently, we did a project on the sea, and in the summer term, parents and children packed up and went on a camping expedition to the seaside at Granny Giles' home in West Cork. We climbed hills, orienteering around woods, planted a willow folly, collected treasures from the sea and spent a day kayaking, rock climbing and abseiling.
One of the most interesting projects we have ever done was a "Cultural Links" programme, facilitated by a lady from Kenya, Beni Oburu. This world development programme involved the children learning to recognise and value the diversity and similarity between cultures. Through activities such as making grass skirts, African instruments, jewellery and footballs, looking at photographs of sky scrapers in Nairobi, listening to stories, and learning African dances, songs and of course the basics in Swahili, the children began to appreciate and positively assess another way of life. Kairos filmed this programme in Adair School for R.T.E. television. Later, elements of the programme were filmed for a gender equality initiative by the Department of Education and Science, to be shown to teachers around the country. These experiences were unusual and fascinating for us.
Traditional annual events, as previously mentioned by Hazel Baylor, remain ever popular, and other annual events have joined the ranks in school life. Each year the children go to Cork Symphony Pops Orchestra in Cork City Hall. Children from all over Cork County attend this concert. The conductor's husband, complete with gorilla costume, entertains the children with his antics, as they unconsciously absorb information about instruments and different types of music around the world. Sometimes they play their tin whistles, sometimes they sing, clap and stamp. It's all very interactive.
Cooking has become the norm in school. We have cookery classes "as Gaeilge", and each year, on Shrove Tuesday, we make hundreds of pancakes. The children bring in the ingredients and we have the most delicious fillings of bananas, maple or golden syrup, nutella, lemon and sugar. All pupils, past pupils, parents, teachers and visitors get fed. One year, the "Animal Magic Show" came to school on Pancake Day. They travelled through sleet and snow to bring their animals to school. Hours late, they arrived, and boy did they enjoy those pancakes!
Science has increasingly become a part of the school curriculum. Ms. Murphy, our special needs assistant, was organising a "volcano eruption" one day. The sand mountain had been constructed and the Yoplait drinks carton filled with bread soda, vinegar and colouring. Just before placing it in the mountain. Ms. Murphy gave it a little shake, just to get it going. It obliged, and when I went to investigate the shrieks of laughter, I found Ms. Murphy wiping herself down somewhat sheepishly. All teachers get caught sometime!
A strong tradition of doing charity work is still retained in the school. The children usually organise their own cake sale each year and the proceeds have gone in the past to charities such as the Donkey Sanctuary, the Malawi Orphan fund, the Chernobyl Children's fund, the Special Olympics, Bóthar and Sight Savers. Regular homework is suspended for one night and the children go baking. Next day, the most colourful confectionary arrives in school, and in a mad frenzy at break time, the money is exchanged and most of the produce goes "down the hatch" into smiling children's tummies! Another year they compiled a recipe book in aid of their pen pals in Malawi and parents helped them to sell the books. Every few years they dress up in fancy dress and go down town collecting for Telethon. For this event, boxes and bags full of clothes are hauled down from the attic and tossed across the floor. Then the children rummage through the contents and, in truly creative fashion, they have the most marvellous fun mixing and matching their attire. Some naughty parent popped an enormous bra-cum-corset into the dressing up pile, and this is in great demand as lads become "well endowed" in minutes. Down town, most people look either amused or shocked as hordes of children descend on them for a few pence to be popped into each of the many extended buckets! Skipathon continues to be a children's favourite. This involves sponsor cards, knocking on doors for money, skipping in rotation for a couple of hours on a sunny day at school, presenting the collection to the Irish Heart Foundation, and receiving prizes for their prowess. As part of the religion programme the children learn about the work of the church in third world countries and, as part of their weekly worship assembly, they contribute towards these projects. All these activities heighten the awareness that children have of themselves within our global community.
Each year, our past pupils come back to visit and it is not an unusual sight to see them joining in and helping in the classroom, or playing soccer outside at break time. I keep an old weather eye on their progress in life and, of course, I feel extraordinarily proud of their achievements. Many of Adair past pupils have done extremely well in a variety of activities. Individuals have received the highest awards at European level in karate and represented Ireland at world championships, represented their colleges and clubs in rugby and hockey at European level, won prestigious awards at the Young Scientists Awards in Dublin, been selected as head prefects, students of the year and school sports captains on numerous occasions, exhibited craft work at International Trade Exhibitions, attained results that enabled them to take coveted positions in Oxford, travelled to oriental and other unusual places teaching and exploring new horizons, carved out interesting jobs for themselves, and generally been their own happy selves. Indeed, I feel that personal happiness is one of the greatest achievements of all and I am particularly proud of those who find this equilibrium in their lives.
One year, in response to a question about school on an exam paper, one pupil wrote, "In school, Miss doesn't teach us. We do that ourselves". At the time, I was indignant, but as I reflect on his comment, I have begun to hope he was accurate. After all, in the last few years, almost 50% of my past pupils who attend a number of different secondary schools, received 500 plus points in their leaving certificate, so perhaps pupils having an ability to work independently is not such a bad thing!
The "carton" served its purpose, but gradually over the years, it disintegrated and the Board of Management decided to replace it. Sian Egerton, a pupil at that time wrote a strong letter to the Board of Management:-
"We are only a small school with 40 pupils and we are not capable of raising a large mount of money by ourselves. I am going to tell you just some of the problems we have in our school. When we are studying, it's very difficult to concentrate with a whistling roof and a light that buzzes. In a cold and wet country like this, we should have doors and windows that close at least, and also heaters that work. There were mice living quite happily in our school until very recently when we eventually got rid of them. Our roof is stuck together with tape, our tap can't turn off properly and we have to dislocate it to stop the water flowing. The boy's toilet is out of order. In our school, the floor by the sink has water underneath, also our door that doesn't close has nails sticking out of it which ripped a hole in more than one of my tops. I am asking you this: Do most schools have .holes where you can see underneath the school?(We have holes in different places where you can see into the school); have holes where plaster and egg cartons are coming out?….because I don't know any that has except for ours. We need a generous grant from the Department of Education so we can build a new school for the children that are next.Please put our case strongly to the government".
The Board of Management had placed the new extension on the Department waiting list for many years, but, shortly after Sian's letter, positive things began to happen and they were recorded in the school magazine that year:-
"A meeting was set between the Board of Management and the Minister of Education Michael Martin, with Ned O'Keeffe's assistance. In an extremely brief interview, Sandy Blackley, Alfie Whitford and Robin Smith, armed with condemning reports of the school, projections for the futures, plans for the extensions, illustrative photos and a few angry letters from the children, PTA and teachers, secured a 90% grant for the extension. Our gratitude is limitless. Who wants to spend the next ten years fund raising for the extension?
No time was lost. The day after the move, the dilapidated pre-fab began to rock. Early in the morning, parents and children began to dismantle anything of value inside. Then Robin Smith, with the digger, lifted the roof, and the walls fell out amidst cheers from the spectators. Everybody worked exceedingly hard, hauling windows, wall sections, planks and rubble. Richard Scanlan's dumpers arrived and away the waste went to the Barry's quarry in Ballyhooly. By the end of the day, the site was clear and safe for children.The following Saturday, Richard's crew were back. The pre-fab foundations were dug out and the back of Mrs. Baylor's classroom was dug out in preparation for a badminton/ soccer/ volleyball area. On 1st June 1999, the contracts were signed. Present were Declan O'Sullivan, (architect) Sandy Blackley,(Chairman of the Board of Managemen)t, Robin Smith and Alfie Whitford, (Representatives of the Board), and Tom Feeney (from Fenmac Construction)."
It was an exciting time for the school. While the extension was being built, the children from the senior room were taught in "the old Adair School " on Oliver Plunkett Hill (Barrack Hill). It was a good experience for them…a blast from the past,-but the children were delighted to be into their new extension, which was officially opened on 14th February 2000. They told me that it was lovely to be able to walk around without bashing into anything.
That year, Hazel Baylor officially retired. I became principal and Orla Galbraith, a lovely, astute person from Abbeyleix, accepted the position of mainstream teacher in the junior room. When she left in 2003, the school employed four temporary teachers:Ms Sinead Kavanagh, Ms Lisa Halton , Ms Fiona Cronin and Ms Carolyn Smith. Ms Denise Foran from Dublin joined the ranks in 2004 and was replaced by Ms Andrea Quin in 2007 as mainstream teacher in the junior room. Ms Mags Sheehy became the learning support teacher in 2006 and replaced Ms Quin in February 2012 as mainstream teacher. Alison Jeffery and Laura Shorten taught the Junior Room until 2021 and 2019. Katie Lenahan (granddaughter of Hazel Baylor) took up the reigns in 2021. In 2019 Andrea Mutabazi (Quin) returned to take up the role of Principal, joined by Gillian Nagle who took on the role of S.E.N. teacher.
By Heather Smith in "Adair through the Ages" (2004)
In 1969, a site was bought from the Presbyterian Church, at the cost of £480, for the construction of a new school. Rev. Quelch was instrumental in the purchase of this lovely site, situated on a quiet, safe residential road on a sunny, south-facing site overlooking Fermoy. Then, in 1977, a pre-fabricated structure was erected which comprised of a large classroom, toilets and cloakroom facilities. Soon there was a grassed area and a tarmacadam area for play. The premises were bounded to the south by the Condons' beautiful shrubs, to the north and west by a laurel hedge separating the school from the McCarthys', and to the east by the road. A sense of neighbourliness prevailed.
Then in 1986, an enterprising group of parishioners, recognising the potential expansion of the school, rallied together and paid a second teacher to teach in Adair School from their own funds. Mrs. Hales joined the force and she and Mrs. Baylor taught in the same classroom until a temporary structure was erected beside the main building. This was affectionately known in the neighbourhood as "the egg carton." I became the assistant teacher and moved into this structure in 1988.
I taught in the deteriorating pre-fab for twelve years, and though it was a squashed environment, it never affected me unduly. The glasshouse temperatures in the summer simply provided opportunity for a bit of hedge schooling in the sun, and in the winter we revved up the heaters.
Funny incidences occurred from time to time over the years, and, of course, most of them are unrepeatable, but I recall a few. At one stage, I did a teaching stint on budgeting and value for money. Parents were allocated small groups of children and they went to the various shops around, comparing prices, etc. The children had a wonderful morning and they arrived back in school in a state of total relaxation and nicely full of sweets purchased by kind parents. As they lounged back and swung off the backs of the chairs, a knock came on the door. We had an unexpected visit from the local garda. Well, such was the behaviour induced by the break in routine that it never dawned on my erring pupils that a change of behaviour might now be required. In came the garda, and began questioning the pupils on Road Safety and the Rules of the Road for children on bicycles. With great panache, the children answered up like birdies, one foolish answer following another foolish answer. When in doubt, they cast an eye on the cyclist in the class, and they popped up their hands whenever he popped up his. Finally the garda left, having discovered, amongst other gems, that children should always cycle on the right hand side of the road, they could go either direction down one way streets because they weren't very big, that it didn't matter whether they wore a helmet or not because they couldn't go fast anyway, and that….they were emphatic about this, children should never cycle on the road…..just on the footpaths!
Another day, a new pupil to the school came racing across the tops of the tables during break time. As I rose to lecture her about good manners in Adair School, she sprang from the table to the floor, directly in front of me, and out shot a large black bull's eye that had lodged in her throat. Need I say that I heaved a sigh of relief!
One of the incidences that left me speechless as a teacher was an occasion when an intelligent lad was up beside me at the blackboard. I was attempting, unsuccessfully, to explain some mathematical concept. His face, set to the ground, was becoming more dour by the minute and I could see that he was becoming visibly upset by his inability to grasp the concept. So I said, "Don't worry. It will come after a while. You're only small. Give it time". With that, he looked up in annoyance, put both arms around me in a bear hug, swung me round in a circle and placed me unceremoniously back in my original spot. "Am I small now?" he said.
That reminds me of a woodland trek we had out in Glenseskin Wood when, horror of horror for a teacher, I lost a child! He just disappeared. Not a sign of him was to be seen. I scanned the area, expecting the playboy to pop out from behind a tree. No sign. I discreetly inquired about his whereabouts. No information. As I retraced my steps, I called his name. No response. Time passed and, as panic mounted, my pace increased. Finally, I was bellowing his name to the four winds. Everyone was on red alert. Search parties of children were sent in all directions. Every nook and cranny was examined. The woods were ringing with his name. My adrenaline at fever pitch, I eventually located my errant boy. Socks and shoes discarded, he was under the bridge gazing intently into the water, totally oblivious to the excitement he had generated. He looked up, spotted me and beamed. "Come here," he beckoned, "I've got some larvae to show you".
Over the years, I learned to appreciate the children I taught. When my oldest child, Carolyn, came into my room, I must have given her rather a hard time because, one lunch time, a group of children came in and very politely told me that they thought it unfair, the way I was treating her. I mended my ways and, ever after, derived pleasure from teaching my own offspring.
I have always found something infinitely sweet about children. I remember receiving a beautifully woven circle of dandelions to show how delighted the child was that I was going to have a baby, bunches of daffodils in Spring, a bottle of coveted deodorant, a square of matted carpet for my chair, etc. I enjoyed the evolving understanding of a child who explained that the monks brought people across the river on the "fairy" and that carrots were fossil fuels!
School is an interesting place to be. Each year I select a graded book programme, suitable to the needs of my pupils and the requirements of the curriculum. Given that I teach four classes, I follow this programme diligently each week so that a varied and progressive scheme is presented to different levels of pupils. That is the routine part of the job. Everything else is a "Pandora's Box of the Unexpected." and over the years we have done marvellous things and gone to marvellous places.
These activities are recorded in an annual magazine called "The Adair Voice" which has become a rather historical record of everyday life in the school since 1990. Each year the children select some of their best compositions during the year to slot into the appropriate sections. In 2002, Adair School were the regional winners of the Miwadi Cultural Awards for their magazine. Amidst great excitement, we all piled into Mrs. Forde's bus and headed for Dublin to receive our £2000 prize.
Project work leads us down unusual paths. Sometimes we put them in for competitions and in 2003 the children won a computer for a project organised by Fermoy Historical Society, but most of the time we do them just for fun. Over the years we've had winners in various competitions- prizes won in writing competitions, in the Sherkin Marine Environmental Awards and Fermoy Credit Union Poster Competitions, etc.
Most recently, we did a project on the sea, and in the summer term, parents and children packed up and went on a camping expedition to the seaside at Granny Giles' home in West Cork. We climbed hills, orienteering around woods, planted a willow folly, collected treasures from the sea and spent a day kayaking, rock climbing and abseiling.
One of the most interesting projects we have ever done was a "Cultural Links" programme, facilitated by a lady from Kenya, Beni Oburu. This world development programme involved the children learning to recognise and value the diversity and similarity between cultures. Through activities such as making grass skirts, African instruments, jewellery and footballs, looking at photographs of sky scrapers in Nairobi, listening to stories, and learning African dances, songs and of course the basics in Swahili, the children began to appreciate and positively assess another way of life. Kairos filmed this programme in Adair School for R.T.E. television. Later, elements of the programme were filmed for a gender equality initiative by the Department of Education and Science, to be shown to teachers around the country. These experiences were unusual and fascinating for us.
Traditional annual events, as previously mentioned by Hazel Baylor, remain ever popular, and other annual events have joined the ranks in school life. Each year the children go to Cork Symphony Pops Orchestra in Cork City Hall. Children from all over Cork County attend this concert. The conductor's husband, complete with gorilla costume, entertains the children with his antics, as they unconsciously absorb information about instruments and different types of music around the world. Sometimes they play their tin whistles, sometimes they sing, clap and stamp. It's all very interactive.
Cooking has become the norm in school. We have cookery classes "as Gaeilge", and each year, on Shrove Tuesday, we make hundreds of pancakes. The children bring in the ingredients and we have the most delicious fillings of bananas, maple or golden syrup, nutella, lemon and sugar. All pupils, past pupils, parents, teachers and visitors get fed. One year, the "Animal Magic Show" came to school on Pancake Day. They travelled through sleet and snow to bring their animals to school. Hours late, they arrived, and boy did they enjoy those pancakes!
Science has increasingly become a part of the school curriculum. Ms. Murphy, our special needs assistant, was organising a "volcano eruption" one day. The sand mountain had been constructed and the Yoplait drinks carton filled with bread soda, vinegar and colouring. Just before placing it in the mountain. Ms. Murphy gave it a little shake, just to get it going. It obliged, and when I went to investigate the shrieks of laughter, I found Ms. Murphy wiping herself down somewhat sheepishly. All teachers get caught sometime!
A strong tradition of doing charity work is still retained in the school. The children usually organise their own cake sale each year and the proceeds have gone in the past to charities such as the Donkey Sanctuary, the Malawi Orphan fund, the Chernobyl Children's fund, the Special Olympics, Bóthar and Sight Savers. Regular homework is suspended for one night and the children go baking. Next day, the most colourful confectionary arrives in school, and in a mad frenzy at break time, the money is exchanged and most of the produce goes "down the hatch" into smiling children's tummies! Another year they compiled a recipe book in aid of their pen pals in Malawi and parents helped them to sell the books. Every few years they dress up in fancy dress and go down town collecting for Telethon. For this event, boxes and bags full of clothes are hauled down from the attic and tossed across the floor. Then the children rummage through the contents and, in truly creative fashion, they have the most marvellous fun mixing and matching their attire. Some naughty parent popped an enormous bra-cum-corset into the dressing up pile, and this is in great demand as lads become "well endowed" in minutes. Down town, most people look either amused or shocked as hordes of children descend on them for a few pence to be popped into each of the many extended buckets! Skipathon continues to be a children's favourite. This involves sponsor cards, knocking on doors for money, skipping in rotation for a couple of hours on a sunny day at school, presenting the collection to the Irish Heart Foundation, and receiving prizes for their prowess. As part of the religion programme the children learn about the work of the church in third world countries and, as part of their weekly worship assembly, they contribute towards these projects. All these activities heighten the awareness that children have of themselves within our global community.
Each year, our past pupils come back to visit and it is not an unusual sight to see them joining in and helping in the classroom, or playing soccer outside at break time. I keep an old weather eye on their progress in life and, of course, I feel extraordinarily proud of their achievements. Many of Adair past pupils have done extremely well in a variety of activities. Individuals have received the highest awards at European level in karate and represented Ireland at world championships, represented their colleges and clubs in rugby and hockey at European level, won prestigious awards at the Young Scientists Awards in Dublin, been selected as head prefects, students of the year and school sports captains on numerous occasions, exhibited craft work at International Trade Exhibitions, attained results that enabled them to take coveted positions in Oxford, travelled to oriental and other unusual places teaching and exploring new horizons, carved out interesting jobs for themselves, and generally been their own happy selves. Indeed, I feel that personal happiness is one of the greatest achievements of all and I am particularly proud of those who find this equilibrium in their lives.
One year, in response to a question about school on an exam paper, one pupil wrote, "In school, Miss doesn't teach us. We do that ourselves". At the time, I was indignant, but as I reflect on his comment, I have begun to hope he was accurate. After all, in the last few years, almost 50% of my past pupils who attend a number of different secondary schools, received 500 plus points in their leaving certificate, so perhaps pupils having an ability to work independently is not such a bad thing!
The "carton" served its purpose, but gradually over the years, it disintegrated and the Board of Management decided to replace it. Sian Egerton, a pupil at that time wrote a strong letter to the Board of Management:-
"We are only a small school with 40 pupils and we are not capable of raising a large mount of money by ourselves. I am going to tell you just some of the problems we have in our school. When we are studying, it's very difficult to concentrate with a whistling roof and a light that buzzes. In a cold and wet country like this, we should have doors and windows that close at least, and also heaters that work. There were mice living quite happily in our school until very recently when we eventually got rid of them. Our roof is stuck together with tape, our tap can't turn off properly and we have to dislocate it to stop the water flowing. The boy's toilet is out of order. In our school, the floor by the sink has water underneath, also our door that doesn't close has nails sticking out of it which ripped a hole in more than one of my tops. I am asking you this: Do most schools have .holes where you can see underneath the school?(We have holes in different places where you can see into the school); have holes where plaster and egg cartons are coming out?….because I don't know any that has except for ours. We need a generous grant from the Department of Education so we can build a new school for the children that are next.Please put our case strongly to the government".
The Board of Management had placed the new extension on the Department waiting list for many years, but, shortly after Sian's letter, positive things began to happen and they were recorded in the school magazine that year:-
"A meeting was set between the Board of Management and the Minister of Education Michael Martin, with Ned O'Keeffe's assistance. In an extremely brief interview, Sandy Blackley, Alfie Whitford and Robin Smith, armed with condemning reports of the school, projections for the futures, plans for the extensions, illustrative photos and a few angry letters from the children, PTA and teachers, secured a 90% grant for the extension. Our gratitude is limitless. Who wants to spend the next ten years fund raising for the extension?
No time was lost. The day after the move, the dilapidated pre-fab began to rock. Early in the morning, parents and children began to dismantle anything of value inside. Then Robin Smith, with the digger, lifted the roof, and the walls fell out amidst cheers from the spectators. Everybody worked exceedingly hard, hauling windows, wall sections, planks and rubble. Richard Scanlan's dumpers arrived and away the waste went to the Barry's quarry in Ballyhooly. By the end of the day, the site was clear and safe for children.The following Saturday, Richard's crew were back. The pre-fab foundations were dug out and the back of Mrs. Baylor's classroom was dug out in preparation for a badminton/ soccer/ volleyball area. On 1st June 1999, the contracts were signed. Present were Declan O'Sullivan, (architect) Sandy Blackley,(Chairman of the Board of Managemen)t, Robin Smith and Alfie Whitford, (Representatives of the Board), and Tom Feeney (from Fenmac Construction)."
It was an exciting time for the school. While the extension was being built, the children from the senior room were taught in "the old Adair School " on Oliver Plunkett Hill (Barrack Hill). It was a good experience for them…a blast from the past,-but the children were delighted to be into their new extension, which was officially opened on 14th February 2000. They told me that it was lovely to be able to walk around without bashing into anything.
That year, Hazel Baylor officially retired. I became principal and Orla Galbraith, a lovely, astute person from Abbeyleix, accepted the position of mainstream teacher in the junior room. When she left in 2003, the school employed four temporary teachers:Ms Sinead Kavanagh, Ms Lisa Halton , Ms Fiona Cronin and Ms Carolyn Smith. Ms Denise Foran from Dublin joined the ranks in 2004 and was replaced by Ms Andrea Quin in 2007 as mainstream teacher in the junior room. Ms Mags Sheehy became the learning support teacher in 2006 and replaced Ms Quin in February 2012 as mainstream teacher. Alison Jeffery and Laura Shorten taught the Junior Room until 2021 and 2019. Katie Lenahan (granddaughter of Hazel Baylor) took up the reigns in 2021. In 2019 Andrea Mutabazi (Quin) returned to take up the role of Principal, joined by Gillian Nagle who took on the role of S.E.N. teacher.