Ministering to the young

Knox in its grandeur above the Gardens Corner, Dunedin. Photo courtesy of Knox College.
Knox in its grandeur above the Gardens Corner, Dunedin. Photo courtesy of Knox College.
Otago Daily Times editorial manager Philip Somerville, who grew up at Knox College, where his father was Master, reflects on the college's first 100 years. It celebrates its centenary this weekend.

The esteemed founders of Knox College might well be flabbergasted if they returned in 2009 to see what has become of their dream.

Instead of the 94 students there were by 1914, the roll now stands at 212. Half of these are now women, an unthinkable outcome 100 years ago.

The founders would be impressed by the quality of the modern rooms and facilities and surprised that trainees for the Presbyterian ministry, once a substantial number in the college, had disappeared.

This is not to suggest they were not forward-thinking. From the start it was clear Knox was to be more than just a place to board.

The tutorial system and close attention to individual student academic performance ranked high in priorities, as it does today, and the founders set up Knox - although built on Presbyterian money - for men of various faculties and made it open to different denominations.

Part of the idea was that in their formative years, and in a Christian environment, different types of students would rub shoulders and be better prepared for a life of success and service.

A fair proportion of the men and women at Knox today have little interest in or knowledge of Christianity and, other than through the shared library, student day-to-day contact with the adjacent Presbyterian Church's Centre for Ministry and Leadership (formerly Knox Theological Hall) is minimal.

Yet, Sunday afternoon chapel services remain well attended, attracting 60 to 70 on average, and the Christian roots are blended into college life and ritual.

The mix of students down the years has, indeed, helped to stimulate debate and, in the early decades, a Christian concern for humanity was strongly nurtured.

Perhaps that played a significant role in the creation of the welfare state by the post-1935 Labour Government.

Arnold Nordmeyer, a Presbyterian minister, and Gervan McMillan, a doctor, lived at Knox in the mid 1920s and worked together at Kurow, where Dr McMillan developed ideas that were to underpin the Social Security Act of 1938.

Sir Arnold has come to be known as the architect of social security, while Dr McMillan also played a key parliamentary role.

The other four Cabinet ministers from Knox were all members of the National Party, not altogether surprising, as many students have come from conservative, often privileged, backgrounds.

The college also boasts 16 Rhodes scholars, while recent sporting stars include Lesley Nicol (Rumball), netball, James Ryan, rugby and Hamish Bond, rowing.

The number of medical professors, including most of the deans of the Otago Medical School, led to the pointed phrase "the Knox Mafia", and the current university vice-chancellor, Sir David Skegg, is a former resident and former assistant master.

These are among the to-date 6200 residents of the hall.

My favourite story about changing norms at Knox goes back to 1964 and the student "tradition" that women were not allowed to eat in the dining room.

The Governor-General, Sir Bernard Fergusson, was to attend Sunday dinner and was bringing his wife and her lady-in-waiting.

The students blocked the corridor with stacked bicycles, only removing them in the last hours before the guests arrived.

Five years later, the much-loved matron, the formidable Miss Paterson (Ella), was invited to dine on her retirement, and the tradition began to die when women fellows were appointed.

A 1976 resident fellow, Prof Siegbert Prawer, was asked about the difference between Knox and Oxford colleges and is reputed to have said that at Knox the situation was reversed.

"All the conservatives were in the Junior Common Room and all the radicals in the Senior Common Room".

Each of the six masters has also brought his stamp to the college, the first five all being clergy.