Yesterday I was participating in some personal history. My old school, Onslow College, had an afternoon tea for former staff. I was amazed that my old French, Latin, English, Science and music teachers were there. (Although not the history teacher who first introduced me to New Zealand history – he is too busy helping Helen Clark run the country). They hadn't aged at all – after all I thought they were ancient then - and we re-litigated some key events, like the campaigns to get rid of prefects and uniforms (in the days when teachers measured the length of the skirts and boys' hair), and was the current Minister of Education already a stirrer when he was at school with us? In fact we discussed the whole spirit of the 60s, as if it had only just happened. And I left school 32 years ago! We found our memories were often contradictory.

This illustrates how biography and education history are interlinked. Very significant parts of one's life are spent either being educated or educating, or even being a school parent. The physical structure of the school might completely change over the decades but there is still some school ‘soul' that we remember and relate to our whole lives. Just as people are a collection of cells that are in a continual state of change over our lives yet there is still some identity that remains through this process. That's why I find school history so interesting.

A few years ago when I was on the Thorndon School board of trustees we realised that its 150th anniversary was coming up in 2002. 150 years was not much less than the history of organised pakeha settlement in the area so it seemed a good idea to do some work on it. I was doing some post graduate study and decided to tie this topic into a research paper that could become the basis for a school publication to mark the occasion. Others had ideas too. A school anniversary is a chance to capture the historical energy of an event, and a bit of that happened, and is continuing.

If you look out of the window of the 7th floor of the head office of the Ministry of Education you get a very good view of Thorndon School. Thorndon School has an important relationship to its built environment. It is on a small site bounded by Murphy and Turnbull Streets, and Hobson Crescent, tucked in behind Thorndon pool. It is about five minutes walk from Parliament which is very handy when anything interesting is happening there like the visit of Nelson Mandela a few years ago when the whole school went down for a chat with him. The children make use of the National Library, National Archives and other aspects of their locality.

There is great diversity in the physical environment. Firstly, there is the relationship with the almost 80 year old Thorndon pool. Thorndon school children have traditionally all learned to swim. Wellington Girls' College is on the southern border – and that has grown and taken over more space as the secondary roll increased and the primary declined. (An interesting point is that that when Wellington Girls' and Wellington Boys' were planned the boys' school was allocated large grounds by the Education Board but the girls hardly any.) On the Turnbull Street side there is the Kimi Ora school for children with special needs. On the Murphy Street side there is Wellington City Council's emergency management unit.

Housing has changed enormously over the decades. In the 1880s there were gardens and gracious homes. These became commercial buildings, dilapidated flats and boarding houses. A teacher from the 1950s described the area as a slum, and the school with a shrinking roll then, probably a decile 1 or 2 school in today's terms, wheras it is now a 9. The aspirational had moved out to the suburbs. The school is now surrounded by renovated homes, and numerous new townhouses and apartments. Hobson Street , although not far away, has always been rather a snobby area of Thorndon and children from there often go to private schools rather than their local state school. The busy New World supermarket has taken over and incorporated the brewery site and there are only a few shops in comparison with the huge diversity of little shops I remember from the 1960s.

The 105 year old Sunday School from the school's original site in Sydney St (now Kate Sheppard Place) was shifted to the current school site (with the middle section removed) a few years ago and now has a new identity as the school hall. Its claim to fame, apart from it being one of the architect J.S. Swan's creations, was the supposed setting of Katherine Mansfield's short story, Her first ball.

Thorndon School opened as St Paul 's school in Sydney Street , not far from today's Back Bencher pub, on 5 April 1852. The Church of England Education Society, which was founded a year earlier, decided church run schools were necessary in Thorndon and Te Aro, the two main centres of Wellington. There had been several attempts at running schools in the settlement of Thorndon since about 1840, none of which had lasted. The Thorndon Catholics also started formal schooling about this time too.

The school's success fluctuated over the first few years as staff came and went. William Mowbray came into the picture in 1859 and remained for over 40 years. His colleague Robert Lee - they both apparently trained together in London - also had a long career in Wellington education, mainly as an inspector.

Being near the seat of government and the headquarters of the Anglican Church meant that inevitably the same people were tied up with both. (Some interesting untold stories about the politics of this await research.) Funding was a major problem and in 1872 the first meeting of the new Wellington Education Board was held, and in 1873 the Board took over the now named Thorndon School . The need for a better site led to shift to present premises in 1880. The school burned down in 1900 and was rebuilt bigger and better by the next year.

Thorndon School became the teachers' training college from 1906 to 1916 when training moved to Kelburn. In 1961 the 1901 school buildings were condemned as a serious earthquake risk and were shut on the spot (the Turnbull Library has a Nevile Lodge cartoon about this). The children were bussed to other sites until they returned in 1963 to a much smaller school. This has been slowly growing since and has incorporated an existing 1930s house (too thick concrete for the Ministry of Education to demolish fortunately), prefabs and permanent buildings including the recycled hall and the new Roger Walker award winning administration and classroom block that can be seen from Murphy Street now. In Easter this year the school celebrated its 150th anniversary.

Over the decades as well as the teachers' college the school has incorporated a normal school, country model school, various special classes, a speech language unit, and the roll has fluctuated between several hundred to less than a hundred. (It is now at capacity of about 240 and zoned.) Parental demand and involvement and society changes have meant the establishment of after school care, holiday programmes and a Maori immersion class as well a variety of extra and co curricular activities.

And of course the Education Board went in 1989 and we now have self-governing schools.

But these descriptions of the changing history of the school do not actually acknowledge the contribution of the most important factor – the people who shaped the school and those who moved in and out of its orbit over 15 decades.

So we are talking about a school with a wealth of entry points for historical research.

The way the research process evolved was that groups and individuals became involved in various ways. Or you can use a current buzz word in education - intersectoral collaboration – which is also an appropriate way for compiling history.

Several things happened in the process of uncovering the school history. Oral history started. One of the teachers decided to engage a group of students with their school history by teaching oral history techniques, helped by the patient people at the Tunrbull Library's Oral History Centre. Sometimes the sound quality is not great but results include an 11 year old girl interviewing Beverly Randall who was a new teacher at Thorndon in 1954. Beverly went on to a very successful career in publishing ‘reading books'. One story she tells is of the dilapidated classroom which was infested with mice. To distract the children she invented a story about the mouse which came to school to learn to read; this was later published in the School Journal.

I also did (am still doing) some oral history – but mine mainly concentrates on the effect of changes brought by Tomorrow's Schools on Thorndon School on teachers and parents.

The school students also did extensive research in the Turnbull and National Libraries. Displays were compiled digitally and in hard copy.

A collection of fragments of historical material I found in the Turnbull became an exhibition at the library to coincide with the 2002 Easter school reunion. It included wonderful pieces like a series of letters from Mr Polson in 1906 who was made redundant when Thorndon School became the training college. He appeals to Mr Field MP, of the Education Board, for another job and suggests some appropriate placements. The last letter is one Seddon wrote just before his death supporting Mr Polson's appeal. (He got a job at Northland School ). But this series shows that the personal impact of redundancy and the importance of lobbying are not new.

One photograph I had on display which was clearly marked as being St Paul's school room was spotted by a fellow historian as being from Auckland instead – so that was a good example of interactional history. Another photo showed local dignatories observing hearing testing at Thorndon School for Hearing Week during the New Zealand 's centennial celebrations. Another shows children playing in the 50s and the gloomy school buildings behind.

The school reunion itself was a wonderful chaotic weekend with stories shared of the bookies in Pipitea Street , and bullies and victims making up after 50 years. The current pupils sang the old school song which had been lost but found and retaught. Many laughed at the school motto – Manners Maketh Man. A five year old took the oldest ex pupil in her 80s on a tour of the school, showing her the latest school technology.

A huge amount of material came in with the people – photos and information and stories. Later a group printed a calendar to mark the 150 years.

In summary schools are like people in that there is no correct way to approach biography. There are many different views and entry points especially when one is 150 years old and still going strong. All approaches and views are valid and meaningful for someone.

As the subject of New Zealand identity grows in popularity there seems to be more interest in such historical events. People are enrolling in school reunion websites in droves and attending reunions in large numbers. This personal engagement with history is exciting and rules or barriers to participation should be discouraged.

For those commissioning such history (probably school boards with no spare funds) a major issue is how to capture the energy surrounding an event. I recommend letting it spark in different directions and seeing what happens. A multi-media result may be more appropriate than a traditional booklet. Creating some more fragments for those who follow is a major responsibility. Establishing a well-organised school archive is vital. For who can imagine what will be the publishing choice of those celebrating the 200th?