Scholarships Should Be Available to All

I could not help but be interested in all the recent hoo ha about the issue of public schools, such as Wellington College, and whether or not they should offer scholarships to kids from underprivileged backgrounds; or if in doing so this is seen to continue to buy into the 'elitist' theory that surrounds such institutions.
Speaking from experience, I disagree with the nay-sayers entirely.
At the tender age of 11, I was plucked from a London council flat, where I lived with my single-parent mother and my younger brother and sister, and was sent, as a scholarship boarder, to Westonbirt School in Gloucestershire. Put forward by the inspiration of my primary school teacher, Mrs. Elizabeth Sharpe, it proved to be the turning point that was to shape my future life. I seem to recall that her ‘going away’ present to me was a very posh blue scalloped manicure case, whilst my grandfather gave me a Conway Stewart fountain pen, which I still have.
Being away from home for the first time, and missing my mum, to whom I was very close, I cried incessantly, and even ran away twice. Eventually, having written to the Minster for Education at the time, I left to continue my education at Ealing Grammar School for Girls. Having said all that, and despite the abject misery I felt at the time I still believe that the experience I gained at public school provided the best five terms education of my life, for a number of reasons, not necessarily academic.
Although those of us who were 'scholarship girls', knew who we were, I never felt a 'lesser person' for it, just different. The disadvantages I faced were much more of a practical nature. My mother did not drive and as her sole income was from doing piecework at home, she could certainly not afford to run a car, so she only ever managed to come to visit me once a term at the most. This meant, however, that the families of friends would often invite me home with them for long weekends, or for days out. This was not always with very successful results; many years later, when as a Hotel & Restaurant Inspector I re-visited The Manor House Hotel at Castle Combe, I could not help but recall the 'cider' incident. 
I started out as a working class kid with a broad London accent, and after elocution lessons ended up speaking with a plumb in my mouth; very useful later in life when the ability to articulate one's views can enable one to mix with all sorts, from whatever background. I also learnt to swear like a trooper too, perhaps not a skill that one should necessarily be proud of!
Probably the most important aspect of the experience was what it taught me about life skills; being able to sit at a table with others and to eat anything put in front of me, that respect is earned and not a virtue bestowed on those with titles, to take responsibility for my own actions, to have the confidence to go anywhere and do anything without fear, and sadly, a lifelong hatred of all sporting activity, borne out of miserable, cold, wet, mornings spent playing lacrosse!
It is these skills, not necessarily linked to academic achievement that we used to learn within our own family environment, before it became so disjointed, and from a time when our schools had the capacity to consider these intangible elements that go to make up the people that we become later in life.

More importantly though, without the opportunity to attend public school, I would never have met the girl who remains my best friend, almost 50 years on. It is at this stage early in life that we make the connections and form the lasting bonds that can see us through thick and thin, no matter what. Whilst public school may not be suitable everyone, I believe it would be morally wrong to deny anyone this opportunity.

Ironically, having penned this piece, I was contacted by the current head of Westonbirt, Natasha Dangerfield, inviting me to go back for a visit, which has brought back some interesting memories… I was in Holford House, and my house number was H51. I remember thick 60 denier stockings, waiting anxiously to see if I had a letter from home, the basement we called Hades, where we had secret feasts, and pushing leeks around the plate under the beady eye of a teacher!
The head tells me that the school still supports girls from all walks of life, regardless of privilege or position, in a warm and welcoming environment, enabling them to be able to walk through the doors at 18 and manage all the challenges of life with confidence.

I am testament to that.