It’s the school the brilliant Tyneside pupil Laura Spence made famous six years ago. Spence’s rejection by Oxford prompted furious allegations of anti-state school bias and an attack by Gordon Brown, the chancellor, on the university’s “old boy network”.

Spence, of course, went to Harvard instead, encouraged by her American head teacher, Paul Kelley, and is now pursuing her career dreams away from the media blitz.

Her Tyneside comprehensive, however, is about to take centre stage again. Still led by Kelley, it is set to become the first in a new wave of “independent trust schools” under Tony Blair’s controversial education reforms. In 2000 Kelley’s outspoken attack on elitism by Oxbridge was seized on by new Labour. Now once again he is at the forefront of the kind of education change ministers want to see.

As Kelley outlines his plans to link Monkseaton community high school formally with the computer giant Microsoft, it becomes clear that the vision is of nothing less than a revolution in education.

But the big change for this head teacher and father of four is not that schools may be able to cherry pick their pupils — the kneejerk fear that has prompted 100 Labour rebels to oppose the government’s white paper. Rather, the real opportunity under Blair’s dramatic reforms, says Kelley — fresh from a meeting last week with the education secretary — is that schools will be able to join up with big business in legally binding trusts.

Under ministers’ plans, a trust set up by a school would take over the school’s running from the local council, own its land and buildings, choose governors, draw up admissions arrangements (still a matter of fierce debate with Labour backbenchers) and hire and fire staff. Partners in the trust are expected to include private companies.

Kelley, whose long-term collaborators include not only Microsoft but also the Open University, (which offers part-time degrees to Monkseaton’s brightest pupils) says: “We have a framework set up . . . we would be ready to go as soon as the bill becomes law.”

If Monkseaton becomes the first school to twin in a trust with private enterprise, it won’t be the only one. What’s envisaged is that four out of five state schools will eventually embrace this model.

The way Kelley explains it, the new legislation is needed partly to protect businesses by “legitimising” their involvement.

“I was in a meeting yesterday where someone said: ‘I hope Bill Gates is not trying to take over the world’, explains Kelley. “There’s an attitude towards the companies of ‘What’s in it for them?’” The trust framework, then, “protects companies from being seen to do anything untoward . . . It’s a playground where everyone can play.”

All well and good but what parents will want to know is the nitty gritty: how will becoming a trust school change a bog standard comprehensive? Will the children do work experience at the partner company? Will it mean jobs and an education tailored to business’s demands? And will their kids get in if a school can pick and choose? Some of the answers to these questions can be found in the unlikely surroundings of this run-down, leaky building two miles from England’s north east coast where Kelley has been working for years with both Microsoft and the OU.

He admits that the government’s reforms are partly about getting private finance into cash-strapped schools. Microsoft hasn’t given him money as such but it has provided computers and “the latest whizzo programmes”, a package that is probably worth hundreds of thousands of pounds. He wouldn’t say no if they offered him some hard cash too.

Computers are everywhere, helping pupils work towards conventional exams. One girl, another Laura Spence perhaps, already has five A-levels and is taking two more. She’s applied for Harvard too. But some opt for a different route. Instead of sitting A-levels Andrew Johnson, who is 18, has swapped his jeans and trainers for shiny leather shoes, black trousers and a £9,000-a-year job as the school’s assistant network manager. As well as studying for an OU degree in IT Johnson is taking Microsoft qualifications. He has no regrets about his decision. “I got to specialise in my strongest subject and I have a proper job.”

Having a proper job is a big concern round here. The head was last week drafting letters to parents to explain the changes afoot. Objections aren’t expected. “One of the biggest issues is regeneration. Tyneside loses 1% of its population every year . . . the area is very keen that Microsoft has a foothold,” he says. If kids take qualifications that land them IT jobs straight from school few parents would grumble.

What’s in it for the companies? Well, they may get the chance to test drive products in a real environment. A catering company, explains Kelley, might want to become a trust partner and take over the running of a school canteen to trial healthy menus.

“The private sector is not the enemy. It’s where our kids will work,” he says. “I think if there is a way of working with wider society and education not being stuck in a silo with its own rules and syllabuses that are 500 years out of date, that would be a good thing.”

Surprisingly, even the rebels seem to agree. MP Martin Salter says: “I would not hand control of schools to big business all over the place but I can see the sense in having a tie-up with employers.”

First, though, there’s the little matter of admissions to sort out. You get the sense that Kelley, who says his trust school would not want to cherrypick children, doesn’t understand why ministers don’t simply ban selection outright. After all it would be a shame if it scuppered the wider vision. “This,” he says confidently, “is the solution for the boringly average school like yours truly.”

Additional reporting by Judith O’Reilly