From Freshers’ Fayre to The Polar Academy: inspiration through exploration
Fiona McPherson (MA 1990) met and married a fellow mountaineer at St Andrews. After a rewarding career in teaching, she recently led an inspirational group of young people from her Dundee secondary school through an 18-month programme with The Polar Academy, which culminated in a life-changing expedition to Greenland.
August 1986. Top Gun was the most successful film of the year. The name of Chernobyl became synonymous with the worst nuclear disaster in human history. And I sat on my bedroom floor staring at the phone in a world that only had landlines and tried to calm the storm in my head. What if they said no? What was I going to do then?
‘Admissions department, St Andrews. How can we help?’
‘It’s my unconditional offer…I have the right number of points, but not the stipulated grades. Can I… still come?’
‘Let me just check for you.’
Silence.
‘Yes, that’s fine. See you in October.’
And I was in. It was all I had ever wanted and when I arrived at St Andrews, I walked through the autumnal sunshine towards my first English lecture and could hardly believe that I was allowed to be here, for four whole years.
David Russell was my allocated hall and while the architectural splendours passed me by, and the huge distance out from the centre of town was a little irksome, I was here.
Navigating the ‘new’ and the noise
Freshers’ Fayre was loud, chaotic and full of students confident of their place in the world. My goal was to navigate the hall as rapidly as possible and emerge more or less intact. I signed up for the University of St Andrews Mountaineering Club. I had never climbed but I could walk, and Dougie – who was manning the stand – had a warm smile. At that moment being up a quiet mountain seemed very appealing.
A bicycle was almost as essential as my notebook for lectures, given the ‘long’ journey into town. But from whichever angle I looked at my tyre, it was clearly flat. That presented me with a particular challenge. Luckily, while my knowledge of bike mechanics was hazy, Chris, another first year in David Russell, was more confident. One repaired tyre, a shared love of hills, long evenings spent planning trips, and we eventually got married eight years later.
Forging friendships
In the intervening time, friendships had grown, and we had adventures in Zimbabwe, the Alps, Turkey and Kenya, always returning home to Scotland in September for a fresh start. Chris became the President of the Mountaineering club, and I can’t remember his studies overly impacting upon his core business of climbing.
A friendship forged in the frozen gullies of the Lost Valley with Simon has lasted a lifetime, for both of us. When a climbing accident in Norway earlier this year violently pressed the pause button, it was to Simon that we turned. The Norwegian medical team were outstanding, and Simon bridged the gap between our extremely limited medical knowledge and their expertise. His years training to be a medic in both St Andrews and then Manchester were not wasted.
Some people are lucky enough to collect friendships throughout their lives. But friendships need time to grow and shared moments to sustain them. We were lucky that the seeds of ours were planted at St Andrews.
Fiona and Chris with Simon en route to the Alps, July 1988
Into the wide world
Then, suddenly, it was 1990 and we were running out into the sunshine after our final exam.
Within 24 hours of graduation, my tight knit flat of four was scattered across four different continents.
Fiona at her graduation in 1990
I packed my rucksack and headed to Pakistan to teach while Chris decided that the offer of a Glacial Geomorphology PhD in Patagonia was too good an offer for a mountaineer to turn down.
For me, after a year of mountains, an unexpected and rapid evacuation to Kathmandu due to the first Iraqi war, and a memorable trip round Hunza and up to K7, I repacked my rucksack and headed up to Aberdeen and Northern College to learn how to be a proper teacher. At the end of the year, there were three permanent posts on offer. I was allocated Peterhead.
After three years there, I moved to Keith Grammar School as a senior teacher. On the day that I put my new pencil case in my Keith classroom, we bought our first house near Inverurie and Chris was relocated from Peterhead to Perth and joined the team at Scottish Hydro-Electric as an Environmental Manager. The commute from the Oyne Fork to Perth is certainly more manageable than from Lahore to Punto Natales, which was the last time we had been apart, but still…
In August 1997, for the first time in 18 months, Chris and I were living and working in the same area as I had moved on to a Principal Teacher’s post in English in Perth.
Life pivoted again three years later as Angus was born, followed two years later by Catriona, and the chaos of family life consumed us. Still, we climbed, skied, walked and ran away into the hills.
Depute Head in Dundee
Having been Head of Department then Faculty Head in Perth, I moved to Dundee as a Depute Head for what was to become the final chapter, at least as far as formal teaching goes. It was a school filled with fiercely loyal adults, remarkable youngsters and incredible families – people whose spirit was not diminished even after a destructive fire damaged beyond repair 80% of the school buildings.
And then, one day, the world shut up shop. Catriona’s exams were postponed, then cancelled. Angus discovered that being a skiing instructor in Northern Italy was more challenging than any of us could have predicted. And, unbelievably, school closed… for most of us.
After two long years, we came back cautiously to face-to-face teaching, and we looked at the young people around us who had lost so much. We had endured the same storm, but we had not been clinging onto the same life raft.
A future worth fighting for
May 2022. Staring at the phone, trying to calm the storm in my head. What if he says no? What am I going to do then?
I had put my school forward to be considered for selection by Craig Mathieson’s The Polar Academy. This Scotland-based children’s mental health charity works with vulnerable young people for an 18-month engagement programme which culminates with a winter expedition to East Greenland.
The expedition and training are fully funded by the charity, without which many schools could not participate. Most of the young people I worked with in Dundee had not travelled beyond the city limits. Most hadn’t heard of Greenland. But we needed a focal point. There is a reason why the standard bearer in battle is arguably the most important symbol of hope. It contains a promise of a future that is worth protecting and fighting for.
Fortunately, Craig said yes. When you have been used to hearing no, that is a transformational moment. Our Polar Academy journey began, and for the 12 teenagers involved, it was the start of the most exciting 18 months of their lives.
The Polar Academy
The Polar Academy has established relationships with Oxford and Cambridge Universities who support a schools’ outreach programme. They train the young team in Polar science and data collection techniques, which are then put to the test in the field. The question in my mind, however, was why a Scottish charity didn’t have links with a Scottish university. Particularly one with international standing and easy access to the best fudge doughnuts…
Step up the St Andrews Glaciology team. Led by Dr Tom Cowton of the School of Geography and Sustainable Development, and supported by Dr TJ Young, they delivered Polar Science workshops for the Polar Academy youngsters. They then developed a science programme which involved a partnership with the Scottish Association for Marine Science in Oban.
Emma Cameron, a St Andrews PhD student, joined the team, and we are working together to further develop the schools outreach programme. For young people who didn’t consider that university could be for them (in particular St Andrews which can seem a world apart) the enthusiasm and passion of the Glaciology team in nurturing the intellectual curiosity of our young people has been truly inspirational.
Our Polar Academy training began. We trained on a weekly basis and each week were challenged to complete even more press ups. We started with 20. By the final session, one of our girls managed 300.
Polar Academy pupils pulling tyres through the waves at West Sands
We hauled tyres for 20 then 30 kilometres and dragged them along West Sands and out into the sea. We undertook cold chamber training at Napier University to find out the impact of cold wind on exposed skin.
We spent a week training at Glenmore Lodge in Aviemore, Scotland’s National Outdoor Training Centre. For most of the group, it was the first time they had camped. The autumn storms gave them an insight into the importance of efficient camp routines. And then, suddenly, we were all on countdown to 12 March 2024, when we were due to leave for Greenland.
Snow on the Cairngorms during training week
Except that it didn’t quite work out like that.
Waiting and wondering
I was in St Andrews with my Polar Academy team, being introduced to the wonders of coastal rowing by Professor Nina Laurie and her brilliant colleagues. In the afternoon, Tom and Nina delivered workshops which reinforced the most valuable lesson of all: believe in yourself and understand what you are capable of.
Tyre pulling, coastal rowing and the team in St Salvator’s Quad, St Andrews
Meanwhile, in Norway, events were unfolding that would set the course for the next few months. Chris had been involved in a serious climbing accident. Following a phone call from the police, and an early morning flight to Bergen, I spent the next three weeks in intensive care, watching, waiting and wondering.
The clock continued to tick down to 12 March. My Polar Academy team continued to train and pack without me, and I watched from afar. But with the support of my family, and Chris in particular, I packed my rucksack for one last time, left intensive care and headed for Glasgow Airport. My team arrived. They were ready. We were ready.
And as we stood looking out over the Greenlandic icecap one week later, as it stretched North for 1400 miles, I looked at their faces and knew it had all been worthwhile. The future was uncertain, but the present was extraordinary.
Fiona (L) and one of the Dundee pupils (R) on the Polar Academy expedition in Greenland
The way back home
Chris made a full recovery and is following his passion for the great outdoors once more.
Thank you, St Andrews. You helped me navigate my way back home.