An ode to the son of a preacher man

For as long as I can remember, answering the simple question, “What does your father do for a living?” has brought fear like no other to me. Accountant, lorry driver or farmer would have been so much easier. Director of Development and Consultancy for the Centre of Higher Education Policy Studies at the University of Twente doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, nor does it mean a great deal to anybody but my father. For a long time, I joked that he flew around the world playing with Lego*, which is largely true, but more on that later…

July was a key milestone in my father’s career. He has cut down his working hours, some may say he’s slowly moving into retirement. However, what’s unknown to many is that he has actually been juggling two full-time jobs. For many years, my father has also been a full-time carer for my mother - a rewarding but exhausting addition to his already demanding and stressful career.

I wanted to take this opportunity to share not only his amazing career, but also my immense pride in what he has achieved. Those close to my father will know him as an incredibly smart but, above all, funny man – the life of the party with a story (or joke) about everything.

Graduating with a First-Class Honours Degree in Sociology from the University of Cape Town (UCT), the world was his oyster. Not wanting to leave the shadow of Table Mountain (who can really blame him?), he became a lecturer at UCT. Before moving into more strategic roles, supporting their academic policies and planning. It was during this time that his biggest claim to fame took place.

In 1995 he was appointed by the new South African government to support the transformation of the higher education system. This 13-person National Commission had been appointed by none other than Mr Nelson Mandela himself. This is the point where I, and you, realise that I have inherited rather big shoes to fill.

Our family all moved to the lovely green and flat land that is The Netherlands in 1997, where we replaced our car journeys for bicycle trips, bought our first pair of clogs and consumed more cheese than we ever thought possible. In the lovely city of Enschede he joined CHEPS, and to this day still forms part of their furniture. Many talented researchers and academics have been through their doors, but Jon remains.

Joining CHEPS meant I replaced my bedtime stories with bedtime phone calls from exotic destinations across the globe. Bahrain, Yemen, Ethiopia, Chile, Malawi - you name it he’s got the airmiles to prove it. He would ring me every evening (time zone permitting), and would return home with chocolates, presents and some of the local currency for my collection.

My father wouldn’t be my father if he didn’t keep track of how many days a year he was out of the country (this is where my love of spreadsheets stems from!), always ready to respond to my sulking tones “but you’re never home”. In 2011 he was away for 138 of the 365 days, work travel only. Averaging 92 days a year for the last 21 years, across 58 countries. Airmiles galore!

He’d come back with stories of the people he met, the food he’d eaten and the crazy travel logistics. This always included dodgy transport, missing suitcases and dubious hotel shenanigans straight from Fawlty Towers.

From a young age I showed an interest and wanted to hear all about the education problems he was solving, the strategy behind it and the larger impact it would have. This is where Lego comes into play. Lego was stolen from all the children lucky enough to have a parent working at CHEPS. Confiscated, never to be seen again. Each coloured Lego piece represented an academic programme and during workshops, attendees would “build” universities out of Lego on a fictional map, in a country called Imaginalia (patent pending – I’m serious). Deep down I couldn’t help but wonder: How can I follow in his footsteps? What do I need to study to have a career like this? As with many careers, I don’t think there’s a straightforward journey.

He has always made the effort to involve me and my brother in his career. I have been lucky enough to share a 2-hour train trip with his good friend, the Mozambican Minister of Higher Education – it’s not every day a 17-year-old girl gets that opportunity. Looking back the conversations are a blur, I wish I had taken the chance to ask the important questions, gain valuable insight and potentially a place to stay! I have had the pleasure of witnessing a Professor from the University of Porto playing guitar and singing at my father’s 50th birthday party. Who needs Ed Sheeran?

A particular highlight was the regular dinner parties with the CHEPS Professor of Higher Education, who lived across a small lake from us. These always included incredible food, even better wine and multi-language trivial pursuit between the Dutch, French and English – it became a matter of pride. This taught me a lot of valuable knowledge, but also that the French Trivial Pursuit houses the easiest questions by far (What colour is the French flag?). Forget Brexit, imagine watching English, French and Dutch Professors fly at each other in their native language about the difficulty of their opponents’ questions. Come to think of it, this is probably where I learnt my first French swear words. 

I’ve watched my father complete projects commissioned by the European Commission across 32 European countries, help develop a global multi-dimensional university ranking system and lead projects close to his heart in South Africa, Uganda, Ethiopia and Mozambique.

I can honestly and truly say, I couldn’t possibly be prouder and, frankly, any more panicked that I will never be able to fill his shoes.

I find comfort in the fact that my father lived up to his father’s legacy - my grandfather Roy. My grandfather was a reverend and was sent to South Africa by God during the apartheid era. He moved my father and the family from the UK in 1966 and followed the good Lord to sunny Cape Town. His legacy includes, amongst many things, a remarkable friendship with Desmond Tutu. A story for another day, but proof that my family have perhaps been moulded to make a difference.

In the centuries-old debate between ‘Nature’ (that what you inherit genetically) and ‘Nurture’ (that what you learn from your environment), perhaps we should focus on crafting the perfect cocktail? We should take that what we have been given, nature (or ‘God given skills’, as my grandfather would say), combined with our nurture, and create the life or career we wish to pursue.

And then there is me.

Writing this has made me realise that more than likely, I will fill their shoes without realising. My nature has been passed down generation to generation, it’s in my genes – the urge to make a difference. My nurture, an environment of open conversations, “dinner table talk” at home with diverse and passionate guests, books and music, has given me the interest and the eagerness to listen and learn. The perfect cocktail (Although I am susceptible to to a good Long Island Ice Tea).

When I started to write my Ode, I very much felt that I was never going to be able to live up to, and indeed, be able to fill their shoes. I now realise, that without putting much thought into it, I am already following their footsteps in my own way. And maybe, that’s all a parent could ever wish for.

And so, on that note, to the son of a preacher man, the man I am lucky enough to call my father – almost 40 years into your career, you make me prouder than ever. Thank you for showing me the way.

*If you are looking for a detailed overview of what his job actually involves, I still don’t really know!