I’ve been given the modest challenge of summarising an entire childhood. Quite the academic feat – not least because the learning that happens in childhood is so much more than academic.

Every journey has been unique. Some of you began in Pre-Prep, barely tall enough to hang your coat on a peg, speaking in earnest about your favourite dinosaurs or what you had for breakfast. Others joined later – perhaps uncertain about what on earth a House point was, or whether the Headmaster ever smiled (I do, sometimes. At least once a week). 

But regardless of when or how you arrived, you have all left a mark – subtle in some places, bold in others. You’ve shaped this School through your questions in lessons, your laughter at break, your courage on stage, your persistence in exams, your generosity to friends, and your quiet determination when no one else was looking.

This School is not simply a place. It is, in essence, a narrative and you are part of it. You always will be. And as you step out into your senior schools and new chapters, I hope you carry something with you that goes beyond the content of any textbook or should I say IPad.

I hope you carry belief. Belief that you are enough. Belief that you can do hard things. Belief that you are more than the mark on a paper or the result of a test. And belief that even when things are tough – especially when things are tough – you have within you a quiet resilience, waiting to rise.

 

Let me share a little story. It’s one I often return to:

If you place a flea in a jar and screw on the lid, it will jump and hit the lid. Again and again. Eventually, it will learn not to jump so high. And even when the lid is removed, the flea stays low. It’s not that it can’t jump out – it’s that it believes it can’t.

That’s the danger of limits – particularly the ones we place on ourselves. So, don’t be the flea. Jump higher. Dream bigger. Refuse the lid. Your learning should be without limits

 

Now, I’ll admit, when I need inspiration, I often turn to unexpected places. Shakespeare. C.S. Lewis and – more recently – Ted Lasso. My accidental philosopher. My therapist in a tracksuit. He once said, “I believe in hope. I believe in believe.” And somehow, I think many of you have done just that. You’ve believed and you’ve achieved.

This Year 6 cohort has received a staggering 298 senior school offers – 242 to leading independent schools, and 54 to highly selective grammar schools. Offers from King Edward’s, KEHS, Solihull, EHS, The Perse, Rugby, Warwick, Westminster, each one a testament to potential realised. 68 scholarships – recognising excellence not just in academics, but in music, sport, and character.

But numbers, of course, are only ever part of the story. But here’s the real story – not the numbers, but the grit behind them. Pupils who revised even when tired. Pupils who stayed calm under pressure. Pupils who picked themselves up after disappointment and kept going. Pupils who helped each other. That is our true success. At BCS, we are not producing exam machines. We are nurturing curious minds, kind hearts, and resilient spirits.

 

This year, that spirit has shone in every corner of the School.

Ted also said – and I promise, this is the final quote – “Success is not about the wins and losses. It’s about helping these young people be the best versions of themselves, on and off the field.” That, I believe, is our shared calling.

This year, that spirit of growth and self-betterment has been visible in every corner of School life.

On the sports field, we’ve seen fierce commitment and team spirit. Whether in badminton, hockey, cricket, netball, swimming, chess, fencing, or rugby, BCS pupils have embodied both competitive edge and sportsmanship. We are nurturing athletes who play with heart, humility, and a sense of joy.

In music and the arts, under the guidance of Mrs O’Malley, our pupils have soared. I have watched – often in quiet awe – as young performers poured their souls into concerts, choral services, lunchtime solos in the Cathedral, and House shout events. Music has not only filled the air; it has deepened our sense of community and wonder.

Academically, our mantra of “Doing everything with a capital letter” – and occasionally with a metaphorical exclamation mark – has paid off. That extra 5%, that just a little bit more of care, effort, or revision, has placed Blue Coat among the top ten prep schools in the country. That’s not marketing. That’s your children. And that’s this extraordinary staff.

 

So allow me to thank them. The teachers. The unsung heroes. The mentors and magicians who balance academic rigour with pastoral care, planning with inspiration, laughter with learning. They are not here for applause, but for impact. And it is my great privilege to call them colleagues. As Ted reminds us (I lied – one more quote), “There’s something worse than being sad – and that’s being alone and sad.” Our staff ensure that no child ever feels alone.

Parents – thank you. For your trust, your honesty, your sense of humour. For attending the concerts, the matches, the parents’ evenings. For partnering with us, for championing your children, and for believing in this community.

I said to Year 5 this week – your time is coming. And you are ready. You stand on the shoulders of giants – these Year 6 pupils – and we know you will rise as these amazing role models did.

And finally, Year 6 – I want to leave you with this. As this chapter draws to a close, take a breath. Look around. You are surrounded by people who care deeply about you, who have laughed with you, challenged you, supported you, and watched you grow.

And yes, you will go forward to new schools, new friends, new challenges. But go knowing that you were shaped here. That you are known and that you are ready.

 

At Blue Coat, we often speak of three values: 

Bravery
Compassion
and Strength

These are not slogans. They are foundations.

Bravery to take a leap, even when your voice trembles. Compassion to lift someone else, even when you feel unsure. Strength to keep going and to stay kind even when things get hard. Hold fast to those values. Live them. Share them. Let them guide you when the world feels uncertain.

And believe this – from someone who has watched you not just with pride, but with admiration:

You are enough. 
You are extraordinary.
And the best is yet to come.