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I have to say my first response to this question was that actually my school should be giving me money for all the issues and neuroses it left me with. I could say that it should be paying me for my psychoanalyst’s bills, but it was the kind of place that turned out boys who would never dream of talking to a therapist. “Don’t be wet” was the closest we ever got to counselling.
It is a timely question, though, since I am currently being spammed by the aforementioned school to give money to one of its causes. Typically, it is some piece of infrastructure — a Large Hadron Collider for the science block — but this year it seems to be bursaries, a cause designed to ensure that at least a few underprivileged kids have the chance to be as miserable as I was.
As you will have gathered, I went to a private school, though one of the more ordinary London day ones that does not foster that life-long sense of community you find in those venerable institutions where you can be bullied by a future prime minister. I tell you, you cannot know the inferiority complex that comes with knowing none of your alma mater has ever made it to the Bullingdon Club.
You may, of course, feel differently about your old school. Perhaps it was the making of you. Or if you were captain of the rugby team, perhaps it was the last time you felt like somebody. Or maybe you worked very hard and want to fork out the cash for the library to be renamed in your honour, until you are long enough dead for the school to resell the naming rights.
Appeals from my old university are a little less common, possibly because I am not on any rich lists, though I was thrilled to be taken to lunch recently by someone who thought I might like to donate £100,000 for a bursary in my name. It was nice to be mistaken for someone with that kind of cash to throw around — journalism is, of course, criminally underpaid — but if you want immortality, you can get a park bench for less.
In the US, of course, there is a far greater tradition of donating. This tradition particularly picks up once you have kids you might wish to send to the Ivy League university you attended. You do not have to have donated to secure a place for your child, but let’s just say it wouldn’t do any harm.
Returning to the school issue, it is obvious that private schools are far more efficient at fundraising. They are also appealing to people who already have resources and intend their children to have even more. This is partly why I am sceptical of such efforts. Mind you, with the end of their exemption from VAT, there is at least a genuine reason for the traditional outsize annual fees increase.
State schools are not in the same league unless they are lucky enough to be in one of those golden catchment areas. In any case, they often push for more worthy contributions such as mentoring schemes, school trips for those of restricted means and repairs to buildings made with collapse-prone RAAC concrete.
If you are going to give, however, it is important to go large. There is no point in just appearing in a long list in 6pt lettering in a commemorative programme or having a Bunsen burner named after you. You need to give large and regular enough sums to make it hurt if you decide to throw a strop and withdraw your support. That doesn’t come cheap, but if you want a grovelling call from the head or the president next time they invite Bob Vylan to give the annual address, you need your own line in the annual accounts.
My own view on giving — I’m not sure my efforts justify the term philanthropy — has been fixed for some time. Each year, I work out a sum I feel able to give, pick four or five causes at home and abroad and allocate the cash. I’m not going to wipe out blindness, hunger or homelessness, but these do feel more pressing than the needs of an expensive school. Oh, and there’s a donkey sanctuary because I like donkeys.
I’d certainly salute anyone improving the facilities at a state school and there are some very good educational causes, including bursaries. You may have happier experiences, in which case by all means pony up. And if you hear of a cash-strapped support group for victims of their schooldays, let me know.
Email Robert at [email protected]
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