Taking care with energy
Saturday 29th June 2019
No Paper and No Electricity.
Monday 17th and Tuesday 18th June saw St Augustine’s Priory embark on No Electricity and No Paper Days.
On No Electricity Day lights were turned off in corridors, offices, classrooms, the Hall and the Chapel. Everyone thought carefully about the use of computers, printers and photocopies.
The No Electricity Police from Form III Alpha came round and wrote on a board of praise and a board of shame the names of those who were heroes (and those who were not).
No Paper Day saw everyone reusing paper and being careful about the amount of printing and photocopying done. Again, the No Paper Police (this time from Form IIIA) patrolled the school taking notes of who was taking the day to heart.
The No Paper police
In last week’s newsletter it was seen how the Maths Department embraced the idea of no paper creatively and imaginatively – new ideas are always welcome in our attempts to use less paper and electricity!
Maths uses semaphore and sewing instead of electricity and paper.
Mr Chappory reports on the two days:
‘No electricity day went rather well both in classrooms and in terms of lights all over the school only being used where visibility was a major issue. Some no electricity heroes have emerged and a significant number of staff commented on how they actually “felt better” maximising natural light and not staring at screens.
No paper day shaped up the same and, as with No Electricity Day, some ‘no paper heroes’ emerged.’
Below is a relevant poem by a member of the English Department (Mr Elder), an award-winning poet who has published three collections of poetry.
After a while we leave the footpath,
continuing in comfortable silence,
each wondering how we can turn today into forever.
Life must still be happening to people,
shops will be open, traffic is stacking up,
and we must believe that there are passengers
in planes that pass overhead.
But out here, where we have no reception,
there’s sky, fields, crow crested trees and us.
The sun is splashing through leaf cover
and I squeeze tight shut my eyes
to see a kaleidoscope rush of yellow and green.
Only when we see the burnt out car,
that’s flattened a path into wheat,
do we feel the tug of our lives,
hold our phones up high
and search for a signal.