Why Lady Joyce Singleton-Booth Chooses to Support Sedbergh School
There is a warmth and generosity about Lady Joyce Singleton-Booth that immediately puts people at ease. Seated in the family cottage in Wensleydale – the place where her late husband, the Old Sedberghian Sir Christopher Booth, spent part of his childhood – she reflects on a life shaped by love, hard work and a profound belief in giving back.
The charming Dales home holds deep significance for Joyce and her extended family. It is cherished not only as a place that Christopher loved, but also as the starting point of a lifelong connection with Sedbergh.
Joyce’s connection with Sedbergh School began through Christopher, who attended Powell House from 1937 to 1942. They first met at Hammersmith Hospital in 1963, where Christopher was establishing himself as a clinician and researcher, while Joyce worked ‘frontline’ as a nurse. Over the years, their shared commitment to healthcare saw their careers progress, and their professional paths crossed many times before a lunch meeting developed into romance in the 1980s, and they eventually married in 2001.
Together, they built a life that spanned medicine, academia, history, friendship, and philanthropy. “As soon as we became a couple, Christopher introduced me to Sedbergh,” Joyce recalls. “He was always involved with his old school, so it quickly became a very meaningful place for me too.”
For Joyce, who had arrived in Britain from British Guiana, the beauty of the Dales landscape was astonishing. “When I arrived here, this was a new world to me, such a beautiful world. I had to pinch myself. Is this for real?” It did not take long for Joyce to understand how Sedbergh had shaped the man that Christopher became.
Sir Christopher Booth led an extraordinary life as one of the great figures in modern British medicine: a distinguished gastroenterologist, researcher, professor, historian, and leader who served as President of the British Medical Association and President of the Royal Society of Medicine. “He was an amazing man because of all the things he did,” Joyce says. “He was a real doctor. And a real writer.”
His path into medicine began almost accidentally. While serving in the Navy during the war, he impressed a senior doctor by correctly diagnosing a patient with malaria. After the war ended, that doctor contacted the University of St Andrews on Christopher’s behalf, and a letter was waiting for him at home inviting him to study medicine – despite the astonishing fact that he had never applied. “His life was basically carved out, when you think about it,” Joyce reflects. “Many of the positions he held came through being headhunted or personally sought out for roles.”
Joyce is of the firm belief that the foundations for Christopher’s success were laid much earlier, during his formative years at Sedbergh School. “I always felt that it was the education he had at Sedbergh that gave him a kind of standing in life,” she says. “He was so comfortable with everything. He had confidence in everything he did, whether it was gardening, medical research, history, or leadership.”
Through Christopher’s enduring connection with the School, visits to Sedbergh became a regular part of their lives. Joyce recalls spending time in the library with staff who supported his extensive historical writing and research. Over the years, those visits led to friendships, and Sedbergh became an extended family for them both.
Supporting young people has long been central to Joyce’s life. Although she never had children of her own, she has always taken great pleasure in encouraging and caring for younger generations, particularly her stepchildren and wider family. It is this affection for young people, combined with her gratitude for the role Sedbergh played in Christopher’s life, that motivates her philanthropy today. “I want children who can’t afford Sedbergh to be able to go there, because it did my husband so well,” she explains. “And having seen the difference Sedbergh can make in young people’s lives, I feel very strongly that my money should help children who otherwise couldn’t come here.”
For Joyce, philanthropy is a principle she has lived by throughout her life. “I’ve always believed in giving,” she says. “The more you give, the more you get. That’s how I was brought up. Our house was always an open house, and it’s inborn in me, really, to be a giver.”
Today, she considers herself fortunate to be in a position to share what she has with others. “I don’t want to be selfish and keep it all to myself. That’s not what life is about,” she says. “I want to share what I’ve got, and to share it with good people – like the children at Sedbergh School!” she adds with a warm laugh.
One of the greatest attractions of Sedbergh, she says, is its sense of community. “Everything about Sedbergh inspires me. They never leave you out. They keep in touch, they make you feel involved, and every event I’ve ever gone to has been happy.
“I feel part of the place,” Joyce adds. “It’s home from home. Sedbergh School is a real family now.”
Her support, then, is rooted in the memory of her late husband, but also in hope that future generations of Sedbergh pupils might discover the same confidence, purpose, and opportunity that Christopher did all those years ago. “I’d hope that whatever happened to my husband could happen for them too,” she says emphatically. “Because he had an exciting life and a good life. Sedbergh was his sounding board, his background, his everything. And I suppose in my head, I feel that most children would benefit from it just like he did.”