In one of the lecture rooms in Grove House, Roehampton University, there’s a fireplace with a stone carving of Hercules. This carving became the basis of years of research, and ultimately a book, by my former lecturer Prof. Susan Deacy, as she saw it as an opportunity to explore how the story of Hercules, and his choice, resonated with the experiences of people with autism. On this basis that image of Hercules has become the foundation of my Classics Club work with KS1 pupils. 

I first introduced it about a year ago to a previous school. The pupils were given the colouring in and I worked with a small group on their opinions on the image and which woman they thought was which. Their perspective was really interesting, at first they had a lot of trouble identifying Arete (Virtue) from Kakia (Vice). The main issue they couldn’t get past was that Vice is seen offering baskets of fruit and Virtue is holding a sword; primary schools teach healthy eating as a positive and children are not allowed to play with (even imaginary) weapons in school. On the problem of the fruit, I suggested that maybe fruit was Hercules’ favourite food, if she was offering me the choice for delicious food she might offer chocolate cake, or jammy dodgers. They understood that angle, so then I asked about the sword, why is a sword bad? Maybe it’s to help protect people? The knights in fairy tales have swords, they’re not bad guys are they? Then one pupil said, 

“A sword is a struggle, so she’s telling him to do what’s right even if it’s a struggle”

I hope he pursues literature, and that the schools encourage him, because for a 7 year old to understand that, shows children’s capability when it comes to mythology. An argument I have heard is “they’re too young to understand it” and perhaps some are, but some are ready to learn, and clearly want to. They have to be allowed to decide for themselves if this is something they’re interested in. One of my children’s Greek mythology books had an illustration of Laocoon and his sons which was a drawing of the statue, and when I saw that statue in non fiction books I immediately recognised it, not the violence, but the story behind it, and I was so pleased to be able to see the story immediately, I was about nine at the time. I wonder if that boy felt the same sense of accomplishment when he came to the sword conclusion. 

During last week’s session, Classics club had the following questions to consider: What is a hero? Can you name some famous heroes? Why are they heroes? What do they all have in common? At first it was someone who had superpowers (Spiderman, Superman, Batman, Wonderwoman) but we discussed how the bad guys had superpowers too, but they used them for bad (Thanos, Loki, and it’s not lost on me the ancient references within superhero films, like Thanos, Loki, Thor, Wonderwoman being an Amazon, etc). So we eventually agreed as a group that what makes a hero isn’t the powers (Batman doesn’t have superpowers, outside of being a billionaire), but rather it’s the choice to do good with the talents you have. 

They understood the difference between the two women, the two paths, and collectively agreed he should choose the good side. Then we played a game where one pupil played the “right” side and the other played the “easy” side, and everyone had a go playing Hercules, but each time the bad side would promise something specific to their friend. 

The side of vice promised lots of interesting “luxuries”, including but not limited to, a hundred Squishmellows, ten Stanley Cups, a million pounds, new art set, a football kit, some McDonalds, chocolate mousse, and a Lamborghini. The money aspect was interesting because one pupil pointed out they maybe didn’t use pounds, and they asked what money they used in Ancient Greece. Not only engaging with the information, but asking for more, immediately expanding on what they had just learned.

Each time the side of doing what’s right had to remind Hercules that the other side couldn’t possibly offer all that really, but if Hercules chose the good side they could help people and earn all that themselves. Everyone got to see themselves as Hercules, and most of them chose the side of good (although a few chose the side of luxury, but I suspect it was the Lamborghini that tipped the balance). 

They coloured in their Hercules’ choice pictures, and everyone got a picture sheet of various images of Hercules, one statue, one vase painting, one of Disney’s Hercules and one of a Playmobil Hercules, I asked if they could spot something he had in most pictures, and then we talked about Hercules’ lion skin cloak, and the story of the Nemean lion. Strangely, this was the part of the session they enjoyed the most, and they listened intently, one of the only moments of total silence in the otherwise quite rowdy session. The actual act of heroism completely gripped them, although I was careful to use the word “defeat” rather than “kill”, and “lion cape” rather than “lion skin” (no mention of skinning or wearing of dead animals, just that he wore a lion cloak for the rest of his life). 

I asked them why he might have wanted to dress like a lion? How could they describe lions? Strong, brave, scary, powerful. A pupil made the comparison to Gryffindor in Harry Potter, that Gryffindors are brave so maybe he was trying to tell people he was brave as well. After this discussion one pupil made sure Hercules’ pedicure matched his lion cloak’s. “They’re matching now!“. She saw his lion skin cloak as a pet, or that they were somehow friends, because the lion cloak helped Hercules show people he was brave.

The first session is always the loudest, the craziest, because we haven’t settled into a routine yet, but during the storytelling the children were quiet, listening and taking it all in. Another unusual thing I noticed this session was the fact there’s only ten of them suggests to them they’ve all done something to be rewarded with this, and I’m reminded of The Secret History by Donna Tartt, the notion that this subject is somehow special knowledge, given to the chosen few. Whilst I don’t subscribe to this idea, it was interesting that the children brought up numerous times that they were the only ones doing it, that they were chosen. I reminded them that there will be another group doing it after half term, but this didn’t stop them from talking amongst themselves about how they got to do it, like it was a reward, and they were the chosen few. Perhaps the fact it’s a small group, learning stories they don’t learn in class, has convinced them this is a kind of special club. Or maybe these stories themselves make people feel special, like this knowledge is reserved for them.

One unexpected turn of events was at pickup, where one parent said her child had been so excited for this week that they had read some of Stephen Fry’s Mythos together. I was, and still am, absolutely thrilled that not only is the Classics club bringing Classics to children in school but also having a ripple effect into their home, and is something parents and children can share together. She asked what would be next week’s topic, Pandora, and said, “Let’s go home and read Pandora then!”. This has now become something mother and daughter can share and that will make it so special for them both. In my family, the person who knew the most about Classics, and encouraged my love for the subject, was my uncle, an English teacher. He bought me so many Classics books, encouraged us to travel to Greece, gave me owl themed present at Christmas. He passed away before I went to university to study Classics and I didn’t get the chance to share any of it with him, but I use his copy of Thucydides to this day.

Tomorrow is our second session, on Pandora, and we have a few fun little art activities to do, lots of cutting out and sticking, and of course, they get to add their own little fun twist. They’ll have a picture of Pandora to colour in, but also a lot of blank space in which to draw their own interpretations of the bad things inside, then we’re going to make paper boxes, and a paper bird to go inside. And tomorrow’s focus word is curiosity.