Perfection Paralysis

This week Sarah Thomas considers why we shouldn't let a focus on perfection prevent us from doing our best.

I’ve been thinking recently about perfection. I think it’s true to say that I have, from my earliest years, known that whilst I would like everything to be neat and tidy and practically perfect in every respect (Mary Poppins being something of a role model of mine, closely followed by the wonderful Joan Hickson as Miss Marple), you can’t, in the immortal words of Mick Jagger, always get what you want. Indeed perfection can be paralysing.

It worries me that the notion of perfection is so prevalent in the media and elsewhere that it can be all too much for our children. Please don’t misinterpret me, I am absolutely clear that we should all aim to do our best. I’m rather thinking of the pursuit of perfect cleverness, perfect appearance, perfect lives. But it’s hard to do your best if you feel from the very start that there’s no way you can be as good as some seemingly perfect peer; or if you know that, despite your best efforts, you are unlikely to achieve as highly as your teachers or parents would like you to. And it’s hard too being the seemingly perfect one. That’s what I mean about perfection having a paralysing effect.

It’s why at Bryanston we focus so much upon how each pupil does according to their abilities and interests and efforts, as opposed to how they compare to others, either in or outside the school. In this age of league tables, where it seems everything, even the uncomparable, must be compared, ours is a radical approach. But the value we add by the sixth form in terms of both academic and other outcomes is something of which I am very proud, as I am of the achievements of Old Bryanstonians and the contributions they make to the wider world. I very much hope, for a multiplicity of reasons, no Bryanstonian thinks that the world owes them a living. And that they all go on to lead happy, fulfilled and contributive lives.

The way to deal with all this focus on perfection and the fear of helplessness in the face of it is, in my view, to remember your Voltaire (“le mieux est l’ennemi du bien”) and aim not for the perfect, but the good. This approach has a profound effect upon your sense of self-esteem: if you know what you are doing is your best, and that it is recognised as such rather than belittled, you are likely to feel much better about yourself. It allows you also to divest yourself of the feeling of desperation or helplessness that can creep in, often from consulting social media or the popular press about the world at large.

We live, perhaps sadly but certainly bracingly, in interesting times. I think our job as educators is to recognise and react to the changing world, ensuring pupils leave ready to embrace the new opportunities that will open up (so, for instance, we are strengthening our computer science provision with a new high-level appointment from September 2018), but also maintaining the framework which has proven its worth over generations, in terms of teaching pupils how to learn and, as it happens, how to be positive.

At Bryanston, I see this philosophy in action every day, through our remarkable tutorial system. I see it also in the approach of our Director of Sport and the exciting new developments he has introduced, so that all can enjoy sport both in and beyond school. I see it in the exceptional music and drama (and if you didn’t see My Fair Lady, I am very sorry for you, as you missed an enormous treat: I saw it twice!). I see it on every occasion that we place our trust in our pupils to rise to the challenges that face them. I am enormously proud, for instance, of our First XV Captain, Ellis B (P, A2), who has shaped a team which lost more than they would have wished before half term into one which was unbeaten this side of half term until, agonisingly, their very last game. Because of that experience, the boys now form a fully committed team with a sense of common purpose and individual drive. And Ellis is to be congratulated for his major part in that and also for his very recent selection to the U18 Wales squad. I am proud too of how the whole school rose this term to the challenge of raising our annual amount of £1,000 per house (which would mean a school total of £12,000), to support our long-standing school link with charities in Nepal. The total currently stands at £17,000 and rising. And I was beyond proud to hear of how our money raised for the fantastic David Nott Foundation (the charity chosen by last year’s A2 in spring 2017) has been helping fund training courses for surgeons around the world and has specifically helped in Bangladesh, supporting doctors treating the Rohingya Muslim refugees fleeing, often with cruel injuries, from ethnic violence in Myanmar.

This year’s Heads of School, Harry G and Lotte T, are now planning for the A2 Charity Weekend for next term. They’ll be in touch with pupils, staff and parents early next term and they are eager to make sure they lead another successful and contributive charity event in February. They also, incidentally, provide me with some of the best conversations of my week and are outstanding role models to the school.

It’s a privilege running a school like Bryanston. My main role is to ensure that all pupils can leave here ready for this world of ours, whatever shape it will take, and knowing that doing your best, in the classroom or outside it, is always good enough and can sometimes be absolutely brilliant. And that’s the way to stay sane, avoid perfection paralysis and enjoy life with all its ups and downs. Have a super Christmas and all best wishes for 2018.

Ten years on

Class of 2007

At the weekend the classes of 1987, 1997 and 2007 returned to Bryanston for their reunion. Benjy Barkes (Sa ’07) reflects on his return to school and what it meant to him.

What an amazing, rewarding and fun day! Mostly we hadn’t seen each other for 10 years and for many it was their first time back in Dorset, let alone the school grounds. The last time we were together as a group we knew a huge amount about one another, at least we imagined that we did. We had spent most of the previous five years in each other’s company, whilst going through the same experience.

But talking to others at the reunion, it became clear that we hadn’t had the same experience. Five of the most formative years of your life spent anywhere, but particularly Bryanston, are a unique experience, and we all have our own memories of our time at school.

Besides some smart new additions, the school feels and looks largely the same. The worlds we lived in – for me, the four corridors of Salisbury House and a few small bedrooms that were my home for years of my life – also look the same.

Even as we were given a tour of the house, the group of recent strangers slotted back into their former school roles: the loud ones, the shy ones, the musicians, the rugby players. It was nostalgic and curious, bouncing from mature catch-up chat to long forgotten school-boy banter.

I guess that we are still the same people that left Bryanston a decade ago, we certainly look similar! But we are all, without a doubt, so much better for those 10 years. The shy 18-year-olds are now young professionals. Some of those that played in bands at school are now musicians playing to crowds across the country, some of the rugby players are now professionals, hard workers are now accountants and bankers, some are married with children; there are soldiers, artists, naval officers, actors and composers.

Every person, in every way, seemed a better version of themselves. A more confident, happier and developed version of the person that emerged from Bryanston all those years ago. I imagine that this, as an observation, would probably be consistent with other schools. However, with Bryanston there’s one clear difference: the diversity.

I cannot envisage that any other school produces such a happy mixture of people, who not only relish seeing each other, but also cherish their differences and are thankful for the school that offered the chance for everyone to find their niche. There truly is no Bryanston stereotype.

By and large, everyone at the reunion expressed the fondest memories of their time at school and loved the opportunity to spend the day together. It’s a curious virtue of our newly discovered confidence and maturity, that most of us had longer conversations with people in our year at the reunion than we ever had in our five years of shared classes. A missed opportunity, but such is life. Bring on the 20-year reunion!

See more photos from the reunion.

Pre-testing

This week we welcome Bryanston's Director of Admissions, Edrys Barkham, who looks at why we are introducing pre-testing as part of our admissions process.

Can you tell all you need to know about a child’s academic potential at the age of 11? At Bryanston we don’t think you can. We think that many children are still developing in years 6, 7 and 8, when many senior schools undertake pre-testing, and by allowing them longer to mature and getting to know them as they develop, we can admit children who are likely to thrive at Bryanston and will bring to the school a breadth of skills that reach beyond the classroom.

So, why are we introducing pre-testing? In an increasingly uncertain world, we hope that the introduction of the ISEB Common Pre-test for children starting year 7 in September 2017 will remove a family’s anxiety about where their child might go to senior school, by giving a better indication of the suitability of Bryanston for their child earlier in the admissions process than we have hitherto been able.

The ISEB pre-test is age standardised, which means that a child who is young for their year is not disadvantaged and the questions are adaptive so that the answer to one question will determine the level of difficulty of the next question. This means that the tests should allow each child to feel that they have achieved.

However, we recognise that this standardised test evaluates a child’s performance on one particular day and does not take into account any other factors, and therefore the result of the pre-test is not the only criterion that will determine the offer of a place. For children who don’t perform at their best on the day of the pre-test, we will continue to talk to their current school and keep their name on the development list. It is important to us that we continue to admit children with a broad range of talents and interests into the school and we know that some children’s academic development is later than others. We will not want to lose a great sportsperson, musician, actor or artist because they get a low score on the day. We rely on the professional opinion of the heads of prep schools and other junior schools, most of whom know us well, through pupils they have previously sent to Bryanston, and they know their own pupils very well. We trust that they have a good sense of whether each individual child will thrive with us.

We therefore still firmly believe that children should be selected through a holistic overview of each individual and the result of the pre-test will form just a part of that picture. It is an additional strand, rather than a decider, but one we hope will provide reassurance for many families. Our new approach, which combines the pre-test with meeting the child on several occasions and an ongoing dialogue with their junior school, will give every child a genuine opportunity to reveal their potential.

Riding a bicycle

Speech Day last week was, as usual, a day of mixed emotions. Joy that the summer was in sight (the weather even stayed fair for us!) and, because our fully-fledged A2s were setting off on new adventures; sadness, perhaps a little sentimental I grant you, at saying farewell to another talented, feisty, and ‘inwardly weird’ (as the Head Boy described his wonderfully varied year group in his own speech) set of A2s. Inwardly weird might not make it into the prospectus, but it does say a very great deal about this very great school in my view. Thank you to this year’s Head Boy and Head Girl, Sam and Nancy, who upstaged the Chair of Governors and myself with their own, highly individual speeches in the Greek Theatre.

In my own speech that day I, much more predictably perhaps, talked about confidence. The right sort; not the ghastly over-confident sense of entitlement to which I earnestly hope all Bryanstonians are allergic. Instead, the sort of confidence that breeds hope; the confidence that means you know you can and should get stuck into life and contribute to the society around you; the confidence that allows you to make your own way in the world without constant support (or even, dare I say it, interference?) from parents.

I know the poem below is, again, sentimental, but it does seem to me to sum up the business of children leaving our immediate parental and tutorial reach and their learning to do the things they must do themselves with confidence. And I think I’m allowed to be sentimental once a year.

Learning the Bicycle…for Heather:

The older children pedal past

Stable as little gyros, spinning hard

To supper, bath, bed, until at last

We also quit, silent and tired

Beside the darkening yard, where trees

Now shadow up instead of down.

Their predictable lengths can only tease

Her, head lowered, she walks her bike alone,

Somewhere between wanting to ride

And her certainty she will always fall.

Tomorrow, though, I will run behind

Arms out to catch her… she’ll tilt, then balance wide

Of my reach, till distance makes her small,

Smaller, beyond the place I stop and know

That to teach her, I had to follow

And when she learned, I had to let her go.

We very much hope that all our A2s will stay in touch with us and will have great fun beyond Bryanston. We hope they will enjoy all the challenges, get stuck in wherever they are required to, and hopefully make things better than they found them.

I wish them all a lovely summer and fine starts in the next chapter. And I wish you all a sunny summer too. See you in September

You can see a full gallery of images from Speech Day 2016 here.

Avoiding educational labyrinthitis

This week we welcome our Director of Sport, Alex Fermor-Dunman, who shares his thoughts on the importance of providing the balance in education. 

Balance: An even distribution of weight enabling someone or something to remain upright and steady

At Bryanston we pride ourselves as being tailors of an outstanding education. This means that each pupil has a distinct and individual ‘balance’, which is always forefront in our thoughts as teachers and educators. Through regular one-to-one tutorials and correction periods we facilitate and ensure that each individual has an even distribution of weight to remain upright and that the elements of school life are equal and in correct proportions. It is one of the founding and fundamental principles of our educational philosophy.

In a sporting context, as coaches we preach about ‘proprioception’, or the ability to grasp and fully understand the relative position of parts of your body at any stage in a movement; in essence, sporting balance. You can observe and analyse this over hundreds of sporting channels on your TV. I urge you to watch a full-blooded Rory McIlroy drive, any All Black off-loading out of a rugby tackle, Christa Cullen drag flicking a hockey ball, the outstretched body position of Lindsay Keable whilst playing goal defence for England. My list of balanced and awe-inspiring athletes could be endless, the point of my argument is not. It is impossible to play any level of sport without balance.

The catalogue of crucial inputs to develop and improve balance in sport is enormous. World-class sportsmen and women strive their entire careers to conquer and master these, with help from head coaches, strength and conditioning experts, sports psychologists, sports scientists, physiotherapists, massage therapists and nutritionists: the list of the entourage becomes manifold. With David Brailsford’s ‘marginal gains’ theory on the lips of all elite coaches worldwide, it is no surprise that the search for an athlete’s or team’s perfect ‘balance’ becomes almost the holy grail of coaching.

But what of an individual’s balance? At the most extreme end of the sporting continuum we could analyse American swimmer Michael Phelps. In peak training phases, Phelps swims a minimum of 80,000 metres a week, nearly 50 miles. He trains twice a day, sometimes more if he’s positioned at altitude; sessions last for five to six hours a day, six days a week.

Phelps adds a punishing weightlifting regime to his dry-land work depending on training phases. He lifts weights three days a week, but prefers own body weight exercises which he feels keep him leaner and less likely to add muscle bulk. In terms of his diet, Phelps eats over 12,000 calories a day or approximately 4,000 calories per meal. This is his balance, his even distribution of weight, that which keeps him upright and steady. It is this balance, combined with a mind-boggling physical frame, intense focus and desire, alongside specific genetic attributes, which has played a large part in his becoming the most decorated Olympian of all time. It would appear that Phelps for the last 14 years has, in a sporting context, been pretty well balanced.

But what happens when your balance deserts you? Anyone unlucky enough to have suffered from labyrinthitis or the inflammation of part of the inner ear will be able to tell you: dizziness, vertigo, spinning rooms, nausea and the absolute urge to lie down, culminating in life grinding to a halt, until rest and medication restore the body to its usual state. 

So let’s cut to the chase: what is my point? It is simply this, at Bryanston an individual’s balance is precisely that, individual. We have no one in Michael Phelps’ sporting league at present, but we do have 677 pupils who need to find their even distribution of weight. They need their specific individual equilibrium of lessons, assignments, exams, drama, music, sport, tutorials, free time, tours, trips, of laughter and of tears. 

This is the Bryanston balance and, for some, sport and exercise will take up a greater percentage; for others, less so. It is our job, as tailors of an outstanding education, to realise this and to facilitate the individual’s balance at every turn, helping them stay healthy, upright and stable. To focus on one specific part of the educational balancing act at the expense or detriment of any other is a sure way for a failure in balance.

Perhaps we could refer to this failure in balance as ‘educational labyrinthitis’: this is a condition simply not on the agenda at Bryanston. A one-size-fits-all approach will not cut the mustard with regard to what we aim to achieve at Bryanston and is not the recipe for success in the classroom, recital room, concert hall, theatre or sports field. I know that all connected with sport at Bryanston will continue to strive to find our individual athletes’ and teams’ sporting balance. They will keep searching for the sporting holy grail, knowing that this time is well spent, not only in making sport and exercise fun and successful, but also in keeping each of our pupils educationally upright and steady; simply balanced.

Diverse community

This week our Head of Sixth Form, Ian McClary, shares his thoughts on diversity and inclusivity and the importance of being accepted as yourself and of accepting others for who they are.

What does it feel like to be included? To be able, honestly and openly, to be yourself and know that you will be welcomed, encouraged, supported and cared for because of that which makes you individual, distinctive or different? The answer is, it feels absolutely amazing - knowing that you are accepted because you are you and not because you are some edited version of yourself; that your perspective, experience, knowledge and skills are valued and can contribute towards the life and growth of the community of which you are a part, for as long as you are a part of it. It is just this kind of attitude that Bryanston seeks to foster.

Society at large may raise an eyebrow at the claim of a school like ours that we consider ourselves to be diverse, viewed, as we often are, as an ivory tower filled with the perfumed elite. Nothing could be further from the truth, either in reality or how we see ourselves. We tend to take for granted and consider normal the range of nationalities, backgrounds, interests, experiences and views to be found at Bryanston. But what is more important and what really makes us diverse, I think, are the ways, as a community, in which we genuinely value the individual. Whether a pupil or a member of staff, one doesn’t feel the pressure to fit in and conform; rather there is a willingness to move the furniture around to make sure no one bumps into it.

And so, when the school conducted its first LGBT survey last term to explore and learn more about this aspect of the human condition at Bryanston, it came as no surprise that it was received with warmth and thoughtfulness. Not only was it a census of a kind to show our LGBT pupils and staff that they are included and valued, but it also served to prompt our whole community to think about how well we treat LGBT people. Do they feel welcomed, valued and able to be themselves? While there are areas of school life we need to continue to think about, by comparison with the national picture of young people and teachers in schools nationally, the results were extremely encouraging. Incidences of homophobia at Bryanston are extremely low and there is a genuine acceptance and inclusion of LGBT identity and expression as a normal part of life’s rich tapestry. Questions were raised, naturally, about why this area merited particular focus when surely it is just an accepted and integrated aspect of society nowadays. An admirable assumption to make, but we wanted to make sure it was borne out by the experience of pupils and staff, as indeed it largely was.

Of course there are other areas surrounding equality and diversity which merit further scrutiny as we ask ourselves how inclusive a community we really are. These can take place in a variety of ways, most recently the development of a pupil-led Equality Society which has responded to the impulse to reflect, as any healthy community should, upon the various needs and perspectives of its members.

What has always struck me since I came to Bryanston five years ago and as I prepare to say goodbye to the first group of pupils that I have seen through the school, is that Bryanston is an unusual school for the way it embraces flexibility and change, both in the way it thinks and the way it operates. It is open to new ideas, reminding me of the Quaker idea of being open to new light, from whatever source it may come. This culture of openness and enquiry is a real strength, as well as an enjoyable one in which to participate, and it makes for an inclusive school which embraces diversity for the enrichment it inevitably brings.

Who owns the school?

There’s a famous story I’ve used before about Cyril Alington, Head Master at Eton College from 1917 to 1933, being asked by a small boy in his school, “Sir, Sir! What is the difference between you and God?” And of Cyril Alington’s tearing his gaze away from the lofty firmament (his natural habitat), and replying, “Well, boy, there is one but whilst you are at my school you need not let it trouble you.”

Headmasters are not gods, not even I fear gods with feet of clay. The schools with which we are involved, however closely aligned to our own values, morals, even our personal energy, are not ours. Schools, particularly I would hazard boarding schools, are organisms; precious and complex, not unlike a Benedictine monastery in some (but not all!) important regards. Indeed I sometimes read to the pupils in assembly from the Benedictine rule for a new brother (they love that) when talking about the importance of community to the individual. In fact, I’m only interested in the balance between the two, and not solely in either one nor the other.

It’s an interesting antidote to the 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s “ME, ME, ME!!” mantra and, in my view, the basis of a life-long sane and healthy sense of emotional well-being.

Bryanston allows more latitude than many schools in both regards: the community is recognised and allowed to breathe – and be and develop (we spend as much time planning for the social as for the academic when building or refurbishing) – whilst the individual, in its true and glorious Bryanstonian variety, is cherished within this loving environment. And it’s the governors’ and Head’s joint role to ensure that OBs who return after 70 years away from the school recognise the ethos every bit as much as those who left five years ago.

Interestingly, this means that we must do the opposite of stand still. It means instead we must focus on our overarching strategic aim:

The overarching aim of all we do is for Bryanston to provide the highest quality of co-educational boarding education in the UK; this is expressed in our producing happy, purposeful and well-balanced 18-year-olds, rather than merely processing pupils through an exam factory. A further statement of this is to be found in the prospectus. All of this is very much in line with the principles upon which Jeffreys founded and Coade built Bryanston.

And in order to achieve that aim, careful, evolving change must be directed and managed to see to it that in 50 years’ time, those who return to reunions will still recognise this forward-thinking, outward-looking, proud-to-be-Bryanston school.

Currently, in terms of ethos and longevity, we’re working towards raising £20 million by 2020 as an endowment fund. This will allow us to continue to support our bursary programme, which we presently do by using 10% of gross fee income. The money generated by this endowment fund will allow us to alleviate the burden on current parents. It’s important work and with support from our close friends and supporters we hope, given their pledges and gifts already received, that we are well on our way there…The aim is to see that Bryanston is providing its purposeful and unique brand of all-round education to a broader range of interesting pupils in 100 years time by continuing to build on this work. This is not just my vision, nor even just that of Robin Pegna, Chair of Governors as well as longest serving governor, and of Bryanston’s board of governors; this was also Coade’s vision (1932-1959) and I very much hope that when I eventually hand the reins on to my successor it will be their vision and that of their board of governors too.

et nova et vetera! And the happiest of new years and best wishes for 2016 to you all.

Procrustes and his bed

Akshay Sanghrajka

This week we welcome Akshay Sanghrajka, teacher of Classics and D year coordinator, who looks at the positive impact of recent changes to the structure of the first year at Bryanston.

I recently chanced upon the word 'procrustean' in a novel I was reading and didn't know what it meant. It turns out that it's a great word, certainly in my pantheon along with the likes of ‘prolegomena’ (which is what these are - introductory words) and ‘smorgasbord’ (to which I shall come anon). Procrustes was some of kind of rogue bandit in Greece who assaulted people by forcing them to fit themselves into an iron bed that he hitched around the Greek countryside. So the word 'procrustean' comes to mean attempting to fit something of different size or proportion into one arbitrary standard; that is, attempting to diminish life's infinite variety by forcing it into one mould or framework.

Part of the reason I like this word is that it neatly encapsulates the precise antithesis of a Bryanston education. One of the things I think we as a school are very good at is nurturing a variety of individuals, creating the right conditions for a smorgasbord (there we are) of different pupils to flourish.

It was to this end that we recently made some changes to the structure of the D year, the first year at Bryanston. We made a decision to move the D exams from the end of the summer term to the end of the spring term. This may seem like a rather niggling procedural move but it was done in order to key into the centre of our educational philosophies.

The summer term now becomes a term in which teachers are freed from the shackles that exams necessarily impose. Our aim in this period, then, is to urge our pupils to make a step up from the initial D settling-in period to a more mature style of working. This happens in several ways, most notable among which is the requirements of assignments set. We try to elicit work from pupils which is of a more creative, independent nature. This might be by setting research assignments and encouraging pupils to use the Alexandrian libraries in our main school building; or by coming at a traditional subject from an oblique angle to provide our pupils with a fresh perspective. Thus, pupils feel more empowered over their own work and can complete it in a way which is idiosyncratic to their own style.

That fellow Procrustes, he naturally came to a sticky end. Panhellenic superhero Theseus happened to be passing by on his journey from Troezen to Athens and fitted Procrustes to his own iron bed.

Now, far be it from me to compare Bryanston to Theseus, who did all sorts of things from slaying minotaurs, to abandoning damsels in distress, to forgetting to change his sheets - with fatal consequences (as any matron of a junior boys' house could have told him). But as a self-declared foe of procrustean measures, Bryanston does have something in common with the wily old Athenian.

Co-education: redefining the battle lines

One of my friends many years ago at Sevenoaks once explained to me that his view was that the world was divided into Platonists and Aristotelians. His argument ran that the first tend to have a blueprint for the world and for life. They think the world ought to be a particular shape. Plato, after all, wrote a whole book about this and called it The Republic. He went on to say that Aristotelians are more pragmatic and aim for what is good, but also for what works. They are not keen on blueprints and tend to be less prescriptive and more individual in outlook. You might not be surprised to hear that my friend reckoned me an Aristotelian.

In the debate about what schools ought to be there is rather too much absolutism and Platonism for my liking. There is only one way of doing things: everybody must be excellent or outstanding, everyone must be examined the same way; though, interestingly enough, in the UK there is rarely any conversation about what it is that all this measurement and qualification might fit the pupil for at 18. Or, indeed, what it is that universities are for nowadays.

I wonder if the battle lines over single-sex education might be the most Platonic argument of them all. I won't call it a debate, because frankly the conversation has been going on for so many years with no sign of either side moving an inch. Those who support single sex believe there is no other way of educating those in their care. Or certainly no other right way. Co-educationalists like me tend to think that it is the school that matters, its ethos and the opportunities it provides, rather than whether it is single sex or not. What matters most is fitting a child to the right school. And seeing a child flourish and grow.

I can cite all kinds of anecdotal evidence for the superiority of co-education for the children I have known (some of whom have transferred from single-sex schools) but for me the argument that co-education is always right is as facile as the one, using the same but opposite anecdotes, which says co-education is always wrong. And about as scientific. I am the product of an all-girls' education and often say, without any particular evidence for it, that it did me no harm. I do wish, however, that I had gone to a school which had allowed for more options and more engagement. And that, before I had gone to university, I had both encountered boys in the classroom and done some boarding.

My father taught English at a then all-boys Christian Brothers' school in Liverpool. When I was in the sixth form, he was teaching Tess of the D'Urbervilles to his all-boys set, whilst I was being taught the same book, by a female teacher, in my all-girls set in Birkenhead. Over supper one evening I observed that we had been studying the passage where Tess hears Angel playing the harp in the garden. We had all wanted to vomit. My father replied that his set too had been studying the passage that afternoon and they had wondered how any woman could be so moronic as to pick the clearly vile Alec over Angel. “Put those two classes together,” he said, “and you have the makings of a really good conversation."

All these things are anecdotal. Platonists will never believe that their 13-year-old girls will be able to be their best with boys around, or indeed vice versa; Aristotelians will never understand why either gender needs to be ‘protected’ from the other as though they were an enemy. Rather, they argue, the disruption of adolescence can come from too much of the same sort of hormone.

I am a co-educational fan because as a teacher I want to teach both girls and boys. I believe they learn heaps from each other. I believe socially it preserves them from too much alpha behaviour of either gender (and although, perhaps naturally enough, I know a fair bit about alpha females, I have learned a good deal more over 20-odd years of teaching about alpha males). To me the benefits for girls from co-education have always been transparent. I was once, after all, a girl myself. However, I remember very clearly the boy, aged 13 and a half, who explained to me the reasons why he was so keen to move to a co-educational school. He clarified for me what girls bring to the co-educational party. "The thing is,” he said, "I know exactly how I will turn out if I go to an all-boys school because there's a blueprint for how boys in x house at y school turn out. And I don't want to." A budding Aristotelian at the time stuck in a Platonic landscape. He duly became one of the most successful Bryanstonians I can think of.

For me, this debate is arid and fruitless: a circular argument. The decision about education has to be firmly about which school best suits your child. The rest is a side-show. And, to quote Heraclitus, “ All things are in flux”. What suits a child at eight might not at 13 or 16. Focus upon the environment in which your boy or girl will learn and grow and it really will be job done, whether you have bred a Platonist or an Aristotelian….

Greenhouse not hothouse

There’s been more still in the media in recent weeks about what teachers must do to satisfy the grinding requirements of some moved goalpost or other, with several of my HMC colleagues rightly cross about league tables. At Bryanston, we decided to come out of as many league tables as we could some years ago, partly because of the utter nonsense of comparing apples and eggs, but more systemically because we think they are of such questionable value in terms of choosing the right school for your child. It’s perfectly clear that some very famous London all girls’ schools will always do very much better than Bryanston in a certain sort of measurement and, given that we never set out to compete in that particular race, it seems meretricious even to put your running shorts on.

I write a lot about education in terms of metaphors and have, I think, told before of how when I first began at Bryanston parents of prospective pupils would occasionally ask me how I mould the pupils. I’m not into the plasticine metaphor, as I don’t believe you should treat children like that. Plenty of people do, and they can soon tell that Bryanston is not for them. And they take their children off to a character-building sort of place instead of here. And both parties are entirely relieved and delighted.

My metaphor has always been about riotous gladioli and shy daisies and about nurturing and allowing these wonderful flowers to thrive in proper measure by providing a safe and nourishing environment in which to grow. The Director of Admissions, who has been at Bryanston for 23 years and has had her three boys (to my two girls) thrive here, adds another metaphorical layer. She tells me Bryanston is a greenhouse not a hothouse, and I am now enjoying playing around with that new idea.

We believe strongly that you learn best in an environment with plenty of feeding for active young brains. That we, the adults, are not the only ones to determine how fast the learning process happens, though we shall train and gently support their tender stems throughout the amusing bumps of adolescence. And we will love each of them, and what they contribute to this special garden, regardless of their genus. I used to say of my own girls, when they were very much younger, that I wanted them to be strong and flourish like weeds. It’s perhaps why other, more determined, mothers looked askance at my dress sense when Ellie (now 23) would re-dress herself (I promise I dressed her nicely to start with!) as a makeshift pirate from some discarded clothes and the dressing up box. She looked remarkable and weird. But I was, and remain, strongly of the opinion that her character is hers, not mine to mould, and if she wants to dress as a pirate aged three, well go for it, girl! The only effect it appears to have had on her twenty years later is, besides a first class degree from a pretty decent university, an enviably balanced disposition and a love of the unorthodox.

Let’s not fall for any ‘weighing the pig’ arguments. Let’s instead encourage our children to be themselves in all their glorious technicolour and to be the best that they themselves can be. And love them for all they do to enrich our lives.

“Be who you are meant to be and you will set the world on fire!”

At the start of this new academic year these words of St Catherine of Siena, quoted by the Bishop of London when he married Prince William and Catherine in 2011, seem particularly apt. Like Catherine who is expecting her second child, the new school year is full of excitement and possibility, opportunity and dreams. And I have on various occasions used these words to focus our minds on what the real job of being in a school like Bryanston is all about.

Each year I speak to the new Ds (year 9) at the end of assembly on Monday of week 2 and give them some ‘top tips’ about settling in and making a success of a new school. One of the list is about being yourself. This week Peter Hardy, my irreplaceable deputy, and I spoke to the C year group (year 10) about the year ahead for them and I asked them which of those top tips had, as Ds, proved the most difficult to achieve over the course of the year. A particularly brave young man answered, “To be organised”. I was so pleased that being yourself had not proved a problem for this cohort of Bryanstonians and I hope it never will.

How do you find out who you are meant to be? How can we allow our young men and women to be themselves? It’s about offering a goodly amount of opportunity and encouraging engagement. It’s about making sure that individuals are understood and recognised and that each can contribute to the larger body of the house and then school. We want all our 682 individuals to feel that they belong: that they are recognised and valued. It’s no use, in my view, being an individual if you are also lonely. It’s about seeing where you fit in to something worthwhile. Are you going to be a supersonic runner? Or a fantastic friend? Or a genius Germanist? Thorold Coade (Headmaster from 1932 to 1959) believed that it didn’t matter what you chose, as long as you engaged with and contributed to the abundant life of the school.

I agree with him, not least because I found my niche when I discovered first Latin and then Greek, and then because I saw my own two daughters flourish at Bryanston in the hands of the Classics department and on the river as devoted rowers. Keep the curriculum wide and rich and offer an outstanding co-curriculum and we can at least get our pupils and children close to St Catherine’s rallying cry. For us as adults too it is no bad thing perhaps to remind ourselves, though long past adolescence and the school curriculum, of the imperative to be authentic and of using our full range of talents. To aim to keep on learning. To be who we are meant to be so we too can set the world on fire.

School ties

Last weekend we had reunions for the classes of 2004, 1994, and 1984. The school was full of returning Old Bryanstonians (OBs), and in many cases their young families, and there was a constant buzz of enjoyed excitement as old friends encountered one another again.

I turn up to these reunions each summer term with the adjuration of our alumni officer ringing in my ears: “The returning OBs want to see and hear from the Head”. I am puzzled by this, as a room full of

OBs rarely want to hear anything from anyone other than each other (after all, some are seeing each other and old school teachers after quite a few years!) and certainly it’s a puzzle why they might want to hear from a Head who wasn’t even at Bryanston ten, twenty, thirty years ago. So this year I gave it more thought than usual: what on earth would OBs want to hear from a complete stranger and why do we invite OBs back automatically after ten, twenty, thirty years away from the alma mater?

A cynic would say because we want something back from them…even after their parents decided to spend a good deal of money upon their education at Bryanston. And yes, there will be an element of that as OBs are amongst our most generous benefactors and certainly make up the vast majority of them. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to them and how much good they do for these current Bryanstonians who are in receipt of substantial bursarial support thanks to their generosity to, and affection for, their old school. But support comes in a myriad of ways and is a good few steps down the road from our first hoped-for aim in hosting these annual reunions.

We principally want to remain in decent contact with our alumni. This is because Bryanston is a family school. We have a strong percentage of brothers and sisters at the school. OBs teach here; OBs send their children here. And there’s a Venn diagram already. We would never turn down a sibling, unless we believed it was absolutely the right thing to do. Bryanston prides itself upon looking at the all-round picture, at the whole child, and does not treat children as if they were ‘raw data’. No good family does, so nor do we.

For me, one of the most important aspects of any good school is that you can feel you belong. Not in some lazy, uniform-driven way (who nowadays thinks a tie can make them friends??), but because you are individually recognized (the tutorial system is critical here, as well as the fact that we are not too large a school) and because you are valued for what you are interested in and involved in. You don’t have to be brilliant at chemistry or ancient Greek (although it’s nice if you are); you could be the best designer or a creative musician of great drive and skill; you could be of course a creative

scientist, like Fred Sanger after whom our Maths and Science building is named; or an outstanding sportsman or sportswoman. This range of opportunity to be valued allows more people to feel they can be involved and can contribute to the enterprise as a whole, than if the only way of successfully doing so is by a single academic route. And it’s why a room of Bryanstonians and Old Bryanstonians is a varied and exciting place to be.

Keeping in touch with OBs is about continuing that involvement. Reunions are held because the school wants to stay in touch with its alumni. Simple as that. The Bryanston family does not finish on the last day of term for A2s as we wave them off, bleary eyed, after the Leavers’ Ball. It carries on

long, long afterwards and it’s about connections, involvement, and support for the general purpose and ethos of the school. And having watched a marquee and a dining hall full of over 250 returning OBs I can attest to the joy in that. OBs remain interested and interesting people with much to bring to any party. I am so looking forward to our next reunion on 21 June for the years of 1964 and prior years. I think I can expect to learn still more about this great school of which I am so fortunate to be the Head. And now I am certain about what it is I want to say on such occasions and, I hope, what OBs want to hear. et nova et vetera!