BIRMINGHAMTHEBLUECOATSCHOOL1722

Today, the school gleamed with a sea of yellow as our children marked World Mental Health Day. The colour alone seemed to lift the spirit of the place, bright and hopeful, reminding us that even the smallest gestures can spark the biggest conversations. I am convinced that mental health should never be whispered about in shadowed corners, as it so often was when I was growing up. Back then, one lowered one’s voice when the subject arose, as if to speak its name too clearly might invite misfortune. How times have changed for the better. There is, as Tennyson once wrote, “more faith in honest doubt” than in silence. Talking about how we feel, really feel, ought to be as natural as asking how one’s day has been.

Mr Newman gave a particularly poignant “Pause for Thought” this week on the subject, which I commend to you. His words reminded us that listening is often the most profound act of care. In the same spirit, I have been reflecting on the pressures our pupils face, particularly in the run-up to entrance exams. We rightly bemoan the addictive pull of mobile phones, yet sometimes overlook the equally pernicious strain caused by over-testing. It is, I fear, an exhaustion we are watching unfold before our very eyes. My simple plea remains unchanged: one exam prepared in collaboration with our senior schools, sat here at BCS, from which independent schools can draw their conclusions, and one for grammar school entry. Imagine, in one fell swoop, the sigh of relief echoing across living rooms and kitchen tables from Edgbaston to Harborne. Fewer tests, less tension, and far more time for what really matters, learning, laughing, and living.

Speaking of inspiration, this week our pupils were treated to a visit from the poet Joshua Seigal. Joshua, whose book I Don’t Like Poetry (ironically much loved by those who claim to dislike verse), met our pupils and struck an instant chord. One young pupil, eyes alight, declared an ambition to become a poet, a moment that rather beautifully captured what education should be about: the ignition of possibility. “Poetry,” as W. H. Auden put it, “makes nothing happen”, at least not in the obvious way but it does something far more vital: it makes us think, and it makes us feel.

Our Year 3 pupils, meanwhile, have been travelling back a few millennia, give or take a few, to the Stone Age. Their costumes were truly spectacular, and their enthusiasm infectious. They explored how humans evolved from hunter-gatherers to early farmers, mastering fire, crafting tools, and, one suspects, inventing the first school lunchbox. The prehistoric world may seem distant, but its spirit of ingenuity and survival resonates in every classroom today.

We also welcomed a Challenge Award Assessor this week, who came to evaluate how our curriculum fosters high challenge. The verdict? That our pupils are both stretched and supported, encouraged to see beyond any supposed “glass ceiling.” Such recognition affirms what we already know, that at Blue Coat we aim high, not for accolades, but because our pupils deserve nothing less. As I said to the assessor, we do everything for our children with a capital letter. The fact that we can now add being shortlisted as “Prep School of the Year” to our list of accomplishments feels like punctuation at the end of a rather joyful sentence.

Tonight, we shall officially open the refurbished School Hall with a concert featuring both our talented pupils and one of our distinguished Old Scholars: the world-renowned violist Philip Dukes. It promises to be a night to remember, a bridge between generations of Blue Coat musicians, all bound by the same thread of excellence and joy. And if your weekend calendar still has room, I warmly invite you to Sunday’s Evensong at 4.00pm. There is something transcendent about hearing our Chapel Choir in full voice as the weekend draws to a close, a moment of serenity before Monday’s inevitable bustle returns.

Finally, my heartfelt thanks to everyone who contributed to our Harvest collection. Your generosity will go directly to Birmingham City Mission to support families in need, a timely reminder that kindness, like education, multiplies when shared.

As we head into the weekend, I leave you with the gentle wisdom of Wordsworth: “The best portion of a good man’s life: his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.” May we all find time for both in the days ahead.

Happy weekend to you all.