Wearing his trademark braces, ZZ Top beard, and ready smile, Andy Brittain, who is a Physics teacher at LEH, as well as coordinator of our award-winning STEM programme, cuts a striking figure in his laboratory, with his eyes twinkling with fun.

While he comes across as the very opposite of the rather stern and retiring figure you might expect a lab-coated Physics geek to be, in fact, with his big personality and ready sense of humour, he’s very much in the mould of one of the greatest scientists of all time. Albert Einstein was as well-known for his wit as his wisdom and is quoted as saying: “Play is the highest form of research.”

The science of rollercoasters

Mr Brittain certainly has a refreshing ability to bring even the driest concepts to life, whether that’s by taking pupils on a day trip to Thorpe Park to experience firsthand the kinetic energy and gravitational potential of rollercoasters, or by demonstrating some of the more obscure laws of the solar system by using a giant gold balloon to represent a star, a shrivelled pea for the earth and a roll of Sellotape to denote an orbit.

“I’m constantly looking for something new. I hate being bored,” he explains. “And I don’t over-value my existence or my role. It’s important not to take yourself too seriously. I once cracked a bullwhip to demonstrate a sonic boom during a busy STEM fair.  Suddenly the entire room – all 300 people – fell silent and I hadn’t anticipated that.  But I do suffer for my art sometimes. In recent years I’ve started a tradition of decorating myself at Christmas – beard baubles are my festive trademark and I hope they catch on!”

Life before Physics

Mr Brittain has been a teacher for 25 years, the last six of them at LEH, but he was originally an insurance broker for Lloyd’s of London where he worked for seven years, before a growing sense of frustration made him look elsewhere.  “Although the trappings of the job were very seductive, I realised it wasn’t for me. Learning for me is a lifelong thing and I missed it. I’ve learnt so much since leaving university and I never want that to stop.

“I used to take new colleagues on guided tours of the City of London and of the Lloyd’s building and I realised that I enjoyed talking in front of people. It occurred to me that being a teacher meant I could continue to learn: I could encourage and develop others and walk alongside them as they also learnt.  That – to me – is pure joy.”

Teaching the teacher

As a pupil himself, at a tough school in Tulse Hill, South East London, he was inspired by his Physics teacher, Mr Robson. “I found him incredibly entertaining,” recalls Mr Brittain. “He didn’t take anything too seriously.  In an environment that was pretty rowdy, he always seemed to maintain his optimism and enthusiasm. His constant smile set the mood.  He made you feel things were all right.  And that was comforting.  I needed that as a kid.”

Mr Brittain has certainly inherited that infectious passion for his subject. His explanation of Kepler’s laws of planetary motion is peppered with humorous details about witches’ dens, duels and noses made of metal, which bring it all vividly to life. He regularly harnesses the power of storytelling to fire pupils’ imaginations. “Physics isn’t about equations and facts, but about what we can know. People learn through narrative. We can draw them in, tell them everything we know up to now, and then they can write the next chapter themselves.”

Award-winning STEM

In addition to his duties as a Physics Teacher and STEM Coordinator he is involved in eight enrichment clubs, including Astronomy, Critical Thinking, Formula 1 and Safe Cracking. They are all part of the rich offering which led to LEH being named the ‘Most Dynamic STEM Programme’ at the well-regarded Muddy Stilettos Awards earlier this year.

One of Mr Brittain’s recent initiatives is now getting global recognition. Windows to the Stars is a programme he developed in association with the University of Surrey, which allows students to model the evolution of stars from birth to death on professional grade software used by astrophysicists around the world. 

“We’re the first to do it, and now it’s got involvement from schools locally, nationally, and internationally.  More than 10 countries are involved including India, Brazil, and Romania. It has the backing of the University of California, Berkeley, the Royal Astronomical Society, and the Royal Society, but LEH is very much the centre of activity and it’s a wonderful opportunity to position ourselves as a hub of excellence in STEM.”

The value of mistakes

He still wakes up, raring to go: “I get excited about two things – firstly doing something I’ve done lots of times before but trying to do it differently and secondly, by doing something I’ve never done before but am keen to explore. I like to invite pupils to ask me cold questions, it keeps me on my toes and if they see me struggle to work it out, it reassures them that it’s OK for them to have to work at a problem too. It shows pupils they are allowed to be human.  Your humanity makes you better. Some of our most valuable insights have been made by people making mistakes – whether that’s vulcanised rubber or penicillin.”

Science is like a snowflake

Despite a quarter of a century of teaching the subject, his sense of wonder remains undimmed. “What appeals to me is the incredible edifice of scientific understanding that has built up over centuries,” he says with his eyes shining.  “It’s like a pyramid, standing on its very tip, and the equilibrium of that is beautiful to see.  Its immense power is quite stunning given its snowflake-like fragility.  If someone discovers something that undermines one piece, for example that magnetic monopoles exist, then huge chunks of our understanding would become instantly invalid.  It all hangs together as one towering body of knowledge, yet it could be disproved in a moment and all fall apart.  That vulnerability is its strength. It makes science vital and alive.”