The man behind Foxdenton’s success story

SPECIAL . . . Mel Farrar

The second part of our Martyn Meets feature on the extraordinaray career of special educatin specialist Mel Farrar
EXTRAORDINARY times and challenges call for extraordinary people and there is little doubt that Mel Farrar fits that description to a tee.

A capital T, without a shadow of doubt... and at 6ft 6in, Mel casts a considerable shadow over all he surveys.

Part of our conversation, after we had covered his remarkable career in education, almost exclusively within the specialist and wholly supremely demanding area of special schools, was his love of travel with wife Ruth.

“We have managed our lives in spans of years and we were determined to do certain things and see certain places before we reached our 70s,” he said. “And we did that, for instance we wanted to see Australia, so we did.”

My ears pricked up: I share a desire to see Australia, and specially an Ashes Test: “Do it,” was his instantaneous response. “Just do it. Go. Book it.”

I never had him down as impulsive, but this is a man of contradictions. Mel Farrar is his own man; a one-off, and Oldham is unlikely to ever see his pioneering, far-sighted like again.

But he had influences - including Eleanor Naylor, who encouraged him to seek the Oldham job.

“The head in my first primary school after college was Bob Bruce,” he added. “He showed me how you could transform pupils’ lives through good teaching and rich, extracurricular activities.”

The school - which became Foxdenton School - was so successful under Mel’s leadership that “we worked ourselves out of existence.”

“The intelligence range of our first intake and their integration showed that in this different time almost all of those children would now be in mainstream schools, because of the improved provision and access - much of which we supported. Kingfisher School (the new name for Foxdenton) now has a very different population.”

The original school was built to cater for youngsters with special needs arising from physical or medical problems. Of the first intake, 60 per cent had wheelchairs, 80 per cent needed physio and 35 per cent were incontinent.

“But there was the full range of intelligence — one was in Mensa, most went on to college, others to university, where some got first-class honours degrees.

“Virtually all such youngsters would now be in mainstream education, which is why the merger of the special schools in 2001 was appropriate.”

That’s when Mel gave up the job that changed his life and that of thousands of people. He knew that new people had to move the sector to the next special place.

Through all of this - and he was at Foxdenton for 29 years - Mel took a four-year masters degree in philosophy at Nottingham University and a second masters, eventually graduating from Manchester in 2006: “47 years after they turned me down for a place!,” he said with a huge grin.

He also took on the establishment, with the support of Councillor Sid Jacobs, when he became part-time chair of the Family Health Services Authority. Senior local government officers advised against his taking on the salaried role, but Mel could see a juxtaposition between his work at Foxdenton and that of the authority.

He made it work by doing his two and half days of contracted time a week before breakfast and after school. His salary was paid into a trust fund, which he used to develop extracurricular activities at the school. A typically selfless act by a selfless man — and a revealing side of his inner rebel.

“A place on the board of our biggest supplier was worth seeking, since the only justification for the school was that it brought together a range of professionals — nursing, speech, physio and occupational therapies, a paediatrician and orthopaedic surgeon to work with teachers and care staff.

“This was the state at its best — no amount of private money could have put together such a team.”

Foxdenton School received tremendous support from the community, says Mel.

“Generous people in pubs, clubs, societies and individuals gave us substantial funds - epitomised by Granville Pritchard’s sponsored runs which over the years raised £250,000 at today’s figures,” he added. “We couldn’t have given such a good service without all of these people.”

The school won many awards, all of which are well-documented and have been reported in these pages many times over the years.

It is typical of Mel’s modest nature that he will deflect his personal triumphs on to others. I prefer to home in on the ethos he brought to professional life that led, without question, to those successes.

He worked in an era when “difficult” teachers were often dumped into special schools, but said Mel: “We always found candidates. We had to. Some of our pupils were facing death, and they died in their time at school and this was a huge issue.

“Some pupils knew only their childhood years. We had to make today better than tomorrow; we simply had to. We had to make every moment count. Every day was a challenge - but it was exciting.”

Here I was, chatting with a man who has changed countless lives for the better and yet his final words were totally self-effacing.

“Throughout it all, my career, I was lucky. Lucky with the opportunities that came up, lucky with the choices I made and lucky with the amazing teams I worked with.

Many, including me, reckon it was Oldham that was lucky - and continues to be so.