Rachel Goodman reflects on her time as Etchells Fellow at St John’s.
In 1978, a girl arrived at Durham Station on a foggy November day for an interview at Trevelyan College. She was nervous, having had a bruising interview at Cambridge (who subsequently rejected her). She got a taxi to Trevs, and was warmly welcomed by Acting Principal Ruth Etchells, who gave her hot chocolate, chatted about poetry, called her ‘my lamb’ and offered her a place to read English there on the spot. Reader, she accepted.
When she arrived, she was delighted and surprised to find the town dominated by a magnificent cathedral and castle – both having been shrouded in fog on her first brief visit. Her time at Durham was characterised by a lot of parties, a lot of reading, a LOT of drama, and well, quite a lot of kissing … she went on to become an actor and BBC Radio presenter, a mother, a gardener – and in 2018 a poet, having completed a Masters in Creative Writing at UEA in Norwich.
That girl was me. In 2026 I came back to Durham, to spend a term in St John’s College as the Etchells Fellow – an opportunity created by former principal Ruth Etchells, to enable someone working in the creative field to have supported time in the college, working on a project, and contributing to the creative and spiritual life of the community.
I am writing this on my last day, sad to leave after a term filled with music, friendship, poetry and exploration. The cathedral has been a constant and powerful presence – both visually and creatively – and has inspired my new poetry collection which I hope to come back and present here, once it is finished. I have a sense that Ruth Etchells is delighted.
Things have come full circle – Durham has, for the second time in my life, captured my heart and imagination … I wonder, will there be a Third Act?
Leaving
I shall miss my high window, and the squirrel winking
while the wind goes at it. Down below, the dash
of skull – a slick white arrow – and the cox’s call.
I shall miss the massive mother, my yellow
cathedral, standing on her fat legs over me –
the elephant sweetness of her armpit.
I shall miss my lambs* tottering on the cobbles,
gulping at life, bleating their personalities
more loudly than they need to – but they’re lambs!
I shall miss my coracle, my nutshell space, bobbing
beyond time, with old time revisited, and no time
still. This circle – an arm’s width of grace.
Rachel Goodman March 2026
* Rachel Goodman was the Etchells Fellow during the 2026 Epiphany Term. The Fellowship was established by former Principal of St John’s, Ruth Etchells. She had a habit of addressing those in her care as her ‘lambs’.
Photos provided by Rachel Goodman.
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