In the wealthy neighborhood of Kensington in west London, it’s Thursday in the garage of a fancy mews house. Adorning the garage walls are impressively large portraits of women with tattoos on motorcycles while scattered across the hood of a silver Lotus Elise lies a slew of legal papers. Rhys Gray, a handsome 16-year-old, strolls in from the cobble-stoned street before walking over to the Lotus and flipping through a witness statement with ease. Abruptly, he cries out, "They’re bringing my ARREST into it? It’s got nothing to do with it!"
"Yes, that’s quite dirty play," Russell, Rhys’s father, responds. "They’re attempting to intimidate us." The ‘they’ in question refer to Marlborough College who expelled Rhys in May. This upcoming Tuesday, Russell plans to challenge the school in court to have his son reinstated. Everything is on the line, but this is no surprise as Jonathan Shephard, the general secretary of the Independent Schools Council, aptly described Marlborough’s case as a boy who committed 200 disciplinary offenses within a year, translating to one violation every day. "So on a daily basis, to be blunt about it, he’s putting two fingers up to the school. And his father, instead of saying to his son, ‘Look, you’ve got to abide by school rules,’ is saying to the school, ‘You’ve got to put up with my son’s behaviour.’" Overall, the portrayal accused Rhys of being an incessantly disruptive teenager enabled by his indulgent father to shirk responsibility. Expecting to discover such comportment during my visit to the Kensington mews, I was surprised by what I received.
As we move up to the kitchen, Russell motions me to sit on the couch as Rhys bashes dishes in the furthest corner. "Marlborough believes they have to stamp their absolute authority over the school," Russell says. "And when they’re challenged they dig their heels in and stamp their feet with redoubled authority." Abruptly, he yells, "Why do you need to eat your toast, rather than sit here and participate? I don’t know. Rhys! Is it THAT IMPORTANT that you stuff yourself right at this moment?"
"Yeah," Rhys mumbles.
"You’re supposed to give the impression," Russell yells, "of a scholarly, studious, hard-working, conscientious, aware, interested kid with great social skills …"
"I’m listening," Rhys interjects.
"Are you controllable?" I yell out to Rhys.
"Yeah," shrugs Rhys. "My social skills are improving."
Rhys joins us, and he and his father exchange warm smiles. Although the Grays may not seem as sympathetic as other moral crusaders battling the class system – such as Sylvia Pankhurst – their fight is crucial and long overdue. For starters, although Rhys was problematic at Marlborough, he wasn’t as severe as Marlborough portrays him to be. The violations were trivial, like chewing gum, getting caught with beer, or being late to class. "I was supposed to have a punch-up," Rhys mentions, "but it was with my best friend. It was some silly little game where we were pushing each other around. It’s nonsense." Rhys disappears once more, remaining unseen for the rest of the interview.
"What was the arrest for?" I inquire Russell.
"I don’t even know how the school came to know about the arrest. It happened during the holidays, two years ago. Rhys was asleep on a park bench down in Chelsea, essentially sleeping it off. A policeman woke him up and Rhys became belligerent because he didn’t want to be woken up, which led to his arrest. Arguably, it was a wrongful arrest; Rhys insists it was. I responded with, ‘Well, if you want to fight it, I’ll support you, but you have to do it yourself.’ However, Marlborough immediately dropped the case. It’s pretty dirty for Marlborough to bring it up now."
Russell pauses, concerned that he’s not presenting the authentic Rhys in his entirety with all his virtues. A few moments prior, I had mentioned being Jewish, so he attempts to appeal to me via an analogy. "If my kids were Jewish, they wouldn’t walk into the gas chambers, put it that way," chuckles Russell. Rhys’s expulsion, according to Russell, "was to pull out a gun and take one shot to the head." At the time, Russell was in Thailand, learning about the expulsion only via fax.
Russell had a terrible experience with his son’s private school – a similar experience to the author’s own with her son. She sympathizes with Russell’s plight, as he prepares to fight the school’s decision to expel his son. The school’s defence pivots around clause 6a, which states that, in the judgment of the master, if a student can’t or won’t benefit from educational opportunities, they may be expelled. Russell argues that the contract is one-sided since parents don’t have any rights to question the master’s judgment. He believes consumer protection legislation exists in these cases. The headmistress gave the author a one term’s notice to withdraw her child, and likewise, Russell was kicked out of school.
Russell is not the type of parent that private schools favour: he’s argumentative and uncooperative. He points out that private school culture requires compliance and deep gratitude from students and parents. The author wonders whether the private school was also considering expelling Russell. Russell acknowledges that he might not win the case, but he finds it essential to fight for his son’s rights. The author questions why Russell would risk £150,000 in a legal battle that he might lose. He says that if someone mugs you, you don’t let them continue punching you – you fight back. The case begins the following week in Southampton county court.
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