_ High hope in a cold climate: the Head who beat the odds

The Stonebridge Estate in North West London is one of the toughest and most under-resourced communities in the country. Joe Jenkins profiles Sean Murphy, one of England's most successful headmasters, who has made a Catholic primary school the pride of the estate.
IN 1993, PHILIP LAWRENCE wrote in the Catholic Herald that "Catholic inner city schools have to face all the challenges of secular ones and more." One headmaster who has proved more than a match for these challenges is Sean Murphy, awarded an MBE for services to education in the New Year's Honours list.
Sean Murphy is headmaster of Our Lady of Lourdes Primary School on the Stonebridge Estate in the London Borough of Brent, an estate that cries out to be preceded by the word "notorious". It is the sort of place where postmen prefer not to deliver and where the police unconvincingly deny that it is a "no-go zone".
But despite his 22 years of keeping Our Lady running smoothly, Sean Murphy is a modest man. He says that he was surprised to be included in the New Year's Honours list, just as surprised as when he was invited to one of the Queen's garden parties in 1989. "I don't even think I am the oldest serving head in Brent," he says.
Now 56, Mr Murphy was 33 when the school was opened by Cardinal Heenan in 1973. "It is not an unusual age to be a headmaster," he says, "but it is to be asked to open a school."
The 350 pupil school is at the very centre of the estate.
It would be a cliché to call it a haven, and probably incorrect because the school has a good deal of problems not just problem children. The children of Stonebridge need a great deal of attention, "but the parents do not always have it within them to respond," says Mr Murphy.
Perpetual unemployment on the estate must be the cause of this, coupled with the unsurprising apathy that comes from parents who have known nothing better and do not know how to stimulate their children other than by slotting another video into the machine. As is often suggested, it is the parents, not the children, who are to blame for their children's problems. "If I suggest to a parent that they smack their child, the child might be smacked excessively," says Mr Murphy, in acknowledgement of the inability of some parents to act with common sense. But is it not the other way round, that the parent might lash out at Mr Murphy? "Well, I am six foot tall and 15 stone, so that tends to put the aggressive ones off," he says with a wry laugh.
"I hate being called 'Sir'. Parents are very respectful too respectful and hold teachers in awe, but we try to break down these barriers." Respect for teachers is a novel notion in these times and says a great deal about the quality of staff Mr Murphy has recruited and the relations between staff and parents he has nurtured.
"When we heard about Philip Lawrence, my wife was terrified. She worries when I stay late at night at the school. Staff have been pushed and verbally abused, but when parents behave like this in front of hundreds of children at the start or end of the school day, it is not tolerated."
But parents have also made a very positive contribution to the school. Since 1992, 15% of repairs have been funded by parents, topping up the continued support of the Westminster Diocese.
As was said of Philip Lawrence, Sean Murphy would go to any lengths to improve the prospects of his children, and selflessly. The comparison ends there, as the style of the two teachers could not be more different. When Philip Lawrence joined St George's School he expelled over a dozen pupils and sacked several teachers, proving that a firm hand gets results in a tough school. But Sean Murphy gets results by different means. "I have never expelled a child, but I do suspend. It is not really an effective measure but you have to do something. It's a tough area and the kids haven't had the best of opportunities," he says. "We give them as good a start as we can. It's a wonderful challenge, and I enjoy the kids."
One problem Mr Murphy faces is "barmy Brent". Since the mid-80s, teacher training colleges have advised prospective teachers to avoid the area at all costs. It has been so bad, "I have been recruiting teachers in Ireland in August," he says.
In 1993 Mr Murphy persuaded Brent to buy a mobile classroom and his "careful" negotiations saved the school £20,000. "Quite a coup," he says. Perhaps the most telling statistic of Sean Murphy's success is that while there were 40 children in each class in the seventies, now there are 30. It is a reversal of the national trend.
His father, Thomas Murphy, was sculptor and master carver at the Anglican Cathedral in Liverpool. Honoured in 1979, he received a BEM, a lesser award because absurdly he was classed as a stonemason, despite training under Epstein, at the Manchester School of Art and in Italy.
Sean Murphy regrets that his father's death two years ago prevented him in sharing his joy at the MBE. "For years, every time I went home I asked him to design a crucifix. Before he died he finished it and now it hangs at my school." The cross is a symbol of the energy and vision Sean Murphy has brought to Stonebridge and the children he has liberated from its urban jungle.