Tides.
Perhaps not the obvious place to begin thoughts at the end of another academic year.
Most Heads reach for words such as reflection, journey or community at this point.
But I have spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about mud. Specifically, the sort of mud that appears when several billion tonnes of seawater decide to go elsewhere for a few hours.
Tides have much to teach us about schools, though. They are wonderfully dependable, endlessly fascinating and much like teenagers, capable of changing dramatically with very little warning. One moment, everything appears calm and predictable; the next, an entirely different landscape has emerged.
The world’s largest tidal range can be found in the Bay of Fundy, where the sea rises and falls by an astonishing amount each day. 14 metres in fact (and enough to submerge LWC’s sizeable Flowers Science Centre).
What fascinates me most is not the water itself, but what happens when it retreats. As the tide ebbs, hidden worlds emerge. Mudflats become highways for birds. Rock pools reveal miniature ecosystems. Entire landscapes appear where, only a few hours earlier, there had been nothing but sea. Then, as the tide returns, everything springs back into life once again.
And schools are rather like that.
As one academic year retreats, all kinds of things that may have gone unnoticed amidst the energy of term-time are revealed. There are achievements, friendships, resilience, talents discovered and challenges overcome. The summer holiday is the intertidal zone, offering space for exploration, adventure, reflection and renewal before the energy and excitement return once more in September.
The tides, of course, are not unique to Earth. Throughout our Solar System, immense gravitational forces create tides in ice, gas and even rock. It’s a comforting reminder that change, movement and renewal are not inconveniences to be endured; they are fundamental features of the universe itself.
This year’s LWC Speech Day felt like a glorious high spring tide. It was a joy to celebrate all that is good about the College: students thriving, achievements recognised, friendships celebrated and a community gathered together. Education is not simply about exam results and destinations. It’s also about the many experiences that shape our young people, encouraging them to shine into the years of early adulthood, so often bemoaned in the national press.
High tides also have another useful feature. They allow us to leave the harbour.
Harbours are wonderful places. They are safe, familiar and reassuring. Yet ships are not built to remain tied to the dock. They are shaped to venture beyond the horizon. Our task as a school is similar. We don’t simply provide shelter, but also equip young people with the confidence, skills and character needed to explore the wider world. Every year, another cohort sets sail, whilst those remaining prepare for adventures of their own.
As with tides, progress is rarely achieved by standing still. The summer months will see investment continue at pace in LWC’s facilities as we look up and out towards the bright horizon.
As the holiday season arrives, I suspect many of you will find yourselves beside the sea. If you do, take a moment to watch that tide. What happens as the water retreats? How does life return as it advances once more? Observe the birds, the changing colours, the hidden channels and the extraordinary variety that emerges when the sea steps aside for a while.
The lesson of the tide is a simple one. Endings are not really endings at all. They are merely the sea drawing breath before beginning again, and that is something worth celebrating.
Yours,
Adam
