To Sir Randy: Fond memories from our 11-year-old selves

1969. It is a memorable year. Neil Armstrong becomes the first man to walk on the moon. 400,000 people attend the Woodstock Music Festival. The Anti-Vietnam War Movement gathers steam, and a quarter of a million people stage a peaceful demonstration. The Beatles give their last public performance, on the roof of Apple Records. And an 11-year-old Michael Jackson makes his first show appearance with his brothers and sisters as The Jackson 5.

But a bunch of 11-year-olds at St. Benedict’s College were facing a significant milestone of their own: we were graduating from the Primary to the Upper School! We had mixed feelings. On the one hand we were excited to be part of the ‘big boys’ at school: we were going to learn mathematics and science; our book list had the magical “Instrument box” on it; we were going to compete in the big Sports Meet under new Houses. On the other hand, we felt more vigorous discipline would be enforced: “you are not little boys any more”. More canings probably? Tougher teachers perhaps? We approached our transition with much fear and trepidation.

That’s when we met our Sir, Randy Ratnayake. We were already highly excited to be allocated the class adjoining the belfry. This meant the rare chance to ring the mighty bell that signalled the start and end of school and all the periods in between. And just seeing the smile on our teacher’s face put all our apprehensions and fears to rest. For such was the appearance of Sir Randy: he exuded geniality.

A more kind-hearted soul we couldn’t have asked for. 300 years before, Jean Baptiste De La Salle, the founder of the La Sallian Order who ran St. Benedict’s College, defined quality education as “teaching minds and touching hearts”. Our Sir Randy epitomised this revolutionary formulation of our Founder. He put our little minds at ease, for he had a calming effect on us.

We felt a sense of security. A safe space for us to learn with no intimidation. He was gentle. He was a father to all of us – he had no favourite sons! Soon we found ourselves looking forward each day to being in his classroom.

But he wanted to take us beyond the confines of the school room. And soon we were on a train to Kandy on our very first school trip. To this day we fondly recount and recollect our own memories of this pioneering adventure. He had planned a buriyani lunch – another first for a lot of us - at the landmark Muslim Hotel in the heart of the city – a feature of our trip that is recounted with much relish.

At times Sir Randy felt the need to be tough. He raised his voice and with his trademark moustache quivering tried to get all strict and shout out instructions or threats. But he just couldn’t pull it off. For he was too kind a man and we could see through this hopeless façade!

He truly lived the teaching of De La Salle who urged teachers to “inspire students and not to simply instruct or punish”. He inspired us with his kindness.

Our passage through the grades of the Upper School was made easy by our fortuitous initial encounter with this decent and gentle man.

Sir Randy led a very simple life. A teacher’s salary was not a lot to get by on. He was of a breed that shunned the money-making enterprise of private tuition. Those of us who lived in Mattakkuliya, his hometown, saw that he lived in a small, square, boxlike apartment that was perched upon concrete pillars, next to his ancestral home. His pet Boxer always sat at the doorway looking ferociously at the passers-by. Not surprisingly, quite like his master, he was as gentle as a lamb!

We stayed in touch over the years: some regularly, others intermittently. And we never lost our connection with him. Some years ago, a few of us had the good fortune of visiting him and his wife at his slightly more spacious yet simple home that he had later moved in to. Over lunch and beer, we shared fond memories of our time at school. We were amazed at the number of past students, over a span of 43 years, whose names he knew and of whom he recalled certain traits or facts. How do teachers possess such amazing memories?

De La Salle outlined 12 virtues of a good teacher. These spanned a range of qualities from patience to humility, gravity to generosity and gentleness. To expect any one teacher to possess all these qualities is a taller order—something even a saint or a monk might struggle to achieve! And yet when we think of Sir Randy, we see elements of every one of these virtues. We recall his patience, his firmness tempered with kindness, and perhaps most importantly, how he never demanded our respect, as so many teachers do, but earned it through his actions by conducting himself—and treating us—with dignity.

And so, we thank you, dear Sir Randy, for all the memories and for giving a classroom of 11-year-olds a solid and sturdy foundation for the future. May your soul be at peace.

Class of ’77