Are you a traitor…or are you a faithful?

This will be a familiar refrain to avid fans of the TV phenomenon Traitors and its latest incarnation Celebratory Traitors. It’s TV as we used to know it – a proper ‘water cooler’ show with episodes released nightly not viewed in epic binge sessions, and cliffhangers left hanging for as long as a full week between episodes. The tension is almost unbearable, but it’s compulsive viewing (with over 12 million tuning in to the recent final) full of fascinating psychological game play and increasingly tense Round Table speculation and accusation, all set to the soundtrack of chaos, confusion, and Celia Emery’s flatulent fanfare.

The traitors take great delight in their two-faced treachery and deception, and seem to relish the role. Indeed, the majority of the contestants when asked at the outset of the programme whether they’d want to be a traitor or a faithful gleefully declare they’d love nothing more than to be a traitor.

But who would want to be a traitor? Ok, it’s only a game show and there’s no harm in it, but in real life, who would want to be a traitor and live a life of lying? Deception? Betrayal?

There’s Daggers in Men’s Smiles

History is, of course, full of those who’ve chosen the traitor’s path, from Judas Iscariot – who famously betrayed Jesus for thirty silver coins – to Marcus Brutus, the Roman senator who plotted with his co-conspirators to assassinate the Roman general and statesman Julius Caesar whose dramatic, bloody death is immortalised in Shakespeare’s eponymous play with his dying words, “Et tu, Brute?” Shakespeare’s play Macbeth likewise opens a dramatic door into the dark corridors of deception and the treacherous, blood-thirsty lust for power. “There’s daggers in men’s smiles,” the great bard warns, and well he might.

The Italian Renaissance philosopher and diplomat Niccolo Machiavelli’s most famous work – The Prince – controversially provided a treatise for leaders that promoted the so-called virtues of ruthlessness, cruelty, deception and betrayal in manipulating others for self-gain. “The ends justify the means” is often (mis) attributed to Machiavelli, who advised leaders to “be the fox to avoid the snares, and a lion to overwhelm the wolves.” The study of history reveals to us time and time again a cast of manically despotic, power-hungry rulers who have sadly taken the Machiavellian approach, casting aside all others in pursuit of ultimate – and absolute – power. In their wake – destruction, devastation, despair.

Remember, Remember

The recent Bonfire Nights around the country are a reminder of perhaps the most famous act of treachery in this country when on the 5th November 1605, Guy Fawkes and his co-conspirators of the Gunpowder Plot planted explosives beneath the House of Lords with a plan to assassinate the protestant King James I and his parliament. The plans were foiled at the eleventh hour following a tip-off and the gunpowder never went off. Celebrating the King’s survival of the assassination attempt, Londoners took to the streets and lit bonfires in defiance of the traitors, a tradition that has continued down the centuries where in towns and villages throughout the land we light bonfires and fireworks to celebrate the triumph of loyalty over treachery.

Faithful to the Call

As the embers die down on Bonfire Night, we turn to another act of remembrance as we join together as a nation to remember those who fought, fell and died in the two world wars and in more recent conflicts. I have always found it a deeply poignant and emotive moment as the surnames are read out of the fallen from our school; young men – just boys really – who exchanged the sports fields of the Maes-y-Llan for the battlefields of France and Belgium, shedding their blazers for army fatigues, swapping school books for guns.

They were, in many senses, the ultimate faithfuls: faithful to the calling of King and country; faithful to the belief in the preciousness of freedom; faithful to the pursuit of peace.  When I think of them I’m reminded of the words of the old hymn: “Be faithful, Oh, be faithful,/Soon ends the battle strife; Oh, be thou faithful unto death,/And win the crown of Life.”

They did not die in vain. And we remember them by name so that “those who come after see to it that his name be not forgotten,” as King George V implores in the commemorative scroll that was sent to the next of kin of every soldier killed in the First World War. We will remember them; lest we forget.

Steadfast and Strong

As the Headmaster of a school with a history stretching back over 600 years, I am very conscious of the weighty responsibility (and privilege) of standing at the helm of this ancient and precious vessel. Whilst the school has evolved and adapted over the centuries – and necessarily so – one of the reasons for its longevity is the ways the school has remained steadfastly faithful to its founding vision. Rooted in our local community, grounded in strong values, this is a kind-hearted, close-knit family school that believes in the potential of each and every child, and believes in the transformational impact of an outstanding education.

Over the decades and centuries, the community has been strengthened by the loyal and faithful service to the school by so many. As we closed out the last academic year, we marked the milestone moment of the 25th year in post for our Chair of Governors Peter Wilcox-Jones, an almost unheard of tenure for such a position in the independent sector and testimony to his passionate loyalty and faithfulness to a school that he loves dearly and continues to serve so faithfully. I was likewise able to recently celebrate the long service of Sue Davies, one of our much-loved Prep School teaching assistants, who this year embarked upon her 41st year at Oswestry; an extraordinary example of faithful service to the school!

Just such loyalty and faithfulness to the school lies at the core of our community, where so many of our pupils are the sons and daughters of fathers and mothers who were themselves pupils at this school. My Head Girl this year – Ffion – is in fact the fourth generation of her family to attend Oswestry School. Now that’s what I call a faithful family!

So who would want to be a traitor? Not me. And not us. Whilst perhaps from time to time we’re all guilty of betrayal in one form of another – breaking confidences; going behind people’s backs; putting ourselves first – as individuals, as a school, as a nation, we stand for loyalty. We stand for Belonging. We stand for trustworthiness. We stand for faithfulness.

If those are the values we live by, then my hope and my prayer is that we all can stand at the end and say proudly and boldly, I am, and have been from the start…a faithful.

I wonder what you could do with just a single penny? Not a lot you might think. In fact, so worthless do most people think that the humble penny is that an incredible 2 million coins are thrown away in the UK every year, many of which are deliberately tossed aside into bins. That pails into comparison to the staggering $68 million thrown away in America every year. We are literally throwing money away!

Look After the Pennies

Back in 1987, a teenager in America called Mike Hayes had a bold and ambitious plan to fund his college career entirely through crowdfunding, even if that term hadn’t yet been coined (as it were…).

A college education doesn’t – and didn’t – come cheap. For a four year degree programme at the University of Illinois, Mike Hayes knew he’d have to raise $28,000. His parents couldn’t afford that, and Mike didn’t fancy being shackled with the burden of huge student loan debts for the rest of his life. So he came up with what was a pretty wacky – but quite brilliant – idea: he would ask 2.8 million people to each send him one penny.

Now this was the 1980s – we’d practically only just come out of the Ice Age. The world wide web was still two years away; social media was the stuff of science fiction. Mike Hayes likewise had the small problem of not actually knowing 2.8 million people. Undeterred, he decided to write to the well-known journalist Bob Greene at The Chicago Tribune newspaper with his simple and uniquely original plea and, having captured the imagination of the maverick reporter – who held a loyal readership nationwide of many millions – Greene ran the story publishing Mike Hayes’s short appeal letter in full which the journalist simply signed off in bold with the message: QUIT READING: GO PUT A PENNY IN AN ENVELOPE!

Incredibly, the appeal worked. As we would say now, it ‘blew up’, it ‘went viral’. People loved the idea, and were inspired by the concept that by just sending a penny to a stranger they could help change a life. In the end, close to 3 million pennies – or $30,000 – were posted to Hayes, many accompanied by impassioned letters of support and encouragement from those who’d been moved and inspired to act.

Little Things; Big Impact

At our start of year assembly, I shared Mike Hayes’s story as a wonderful example of how creative thinking and collective goodwill can combine to truly make a difference. As a UK supermarket’s motto puts it – every little helps.

In schools, too, the small things really do matter. Where each and every day, as students and staff we have the opportunity to invest in ourselves, the chance to do the little things that add up, in the end, to something altogether more valuable. Small pennies of effort that, little by little, stack up.

But we also have the opportunity to invest in others, and invest in our community. Because the small things really do matter when it comes to who we are and how we are as individuals and as a community.

The little things, in my view, are hugely valuable. Greeting one another with a smile. Saying hello. Asking people how they are. Picking up the piece of litter on the ground and putting in the bin. Saying thank you to the member of catering staff who serves you your lunch; asking them how their day has been. Staying behind after sports practice and helping the coach to gather in the equipment. Holding a door open for someone. Helping someone who’s struggling with their work.

These are all little things. Tiny little pennies of effort that cost us so little, but are so, so valuable.

The Power of Collective Endeavour

In Japan, the concept of ōsōji (which translates roughly as ‘great cleaning’) is a deeply-ingrained cultural ritual. From the very earliest age, children are taught about the value of collective endeavour, and the importance of service within their community.

As such, each and every day, students and staff have time allocated for the task of cleaning classrooms and corridors together. It’s not left to a janitor or a housekeeping team; it’s everyone’s responsibility to keep the schools clean and pristine. In so doing, children quickly learn about the importance of looking after one another and the value of working together to achieve a collective goal.

It’s testimony to the power of shared endeavour. Cleaning a school is a huge operation, but if everyone plays their part – if everyone puts in their little penny of effort – then those big things can be achieved, and achieved remarkably quickly. No job becomes too big when the entire school community gets stuck in. Every little helps, after all.

Playing Your Part

We’ve experienced something of the extraordinary power of collective effort during the past year having launched a fundraising appeal for a new Performing Arts Centre at Oswestry School, a transformational facility that will be a gamechanger for both our school and for our local community.

The fundraising target we set ourselves would be no small feat – an eyewatering £1.5 million would need to be raised towards the cost of the £2.3 million state of the art facility. There were many who said it was an impossible dream, many who doubted we’d even get close.

Our belief, however, was that with collective endeavour and a shared purpose, the vision could become a reality. An extraordinary collective effort has borne that out, where our community – and the wider community – have got behind the vision and played their part in making the so-called ‘impossible dream’ a possibility, and indeed a reality. Over a million pounds was raised in less than a year through a wide variety of events and individual fundraising efforts, whether it was selling Plum Puddings at Christmas, a pupil who undertook a litter-picking fundraising effort, or a pair of parents who cycled 1000km culminating in a final leg from Bristol’s Old Vic Theatre – the oldest continuously operating theatre in the UK – all the way back to Oswestry School and what will be the newest theatre in the country! Perhaps best of all was the whole school 24 hour fundraiser that saw the entire community of pupils, staff, parents and alumni come together for a collective effort that raised over £30,000 through a wide variety of weird and wacky activities. For my part (somewhat boldly in hindsight) I committed to running 50km on a treadmill (with a ruined hamstring to prove it…!).

It just shows what can be achieved when you do it together. The pennies become pounds. The seemingly impossible becomes possible. Dreams become reality.

We’re thrilled to have recently been named as Finalists in the Independent Schools of the Year Awards for Outstanding Fundraising Achievement recognising the collective efforts of our community, and with work having commenced on the project early last month, we’re greatly looking forward to curtains up in 2026. I’ve no doubt that the new Performing Arts Centre will in time become a treasured facility for our school community and our local community, and what’s most special of all is that it has been made possible by our community; the collective efforts of so many have made it happen. Every little really does help.

The Roman God Janus (who the month of January is named after) is usually depicted with two faces: one looking back, and one looking forward. Janus was, amongst other things, the Roman God of Beginnings, Endings, and the God of Gates, Doorways, and Passageways.

January – the doorway, or passageway- into a new year, is therefore traditionally a time for looking back, and likewise looking forward: reflecting back on the past year in identifying highlights and things that went well, and looking forward to the year in front of us, perhaps setting aims and goals for the year, or even a New Year’s Resolution or two.

Positive Habits

One of the habits I’ve sought to get back into since the start of the new year (having slipped out of it over the last few months) is the process of daily reflection. It’s a fairly simple process and takes but a matter of a few minutes at the start and end of every day. It’s a strategy I read about in the book ‘Flourish’ by Martin Seligman, the founder of the Positive Psychology Movement.

We tend to think too much every day about what goes wrong, Seligman proposes, and not enough about what goes right in our daily lives. Of course, it’s good to reflect on things that don’t go well; doing so, after all, helps us to learn from them and avoid them in the future. However, people tend to spend far too much time thinking about things that go wrong than is helpful or healthy. And our relentless focus on negative events tends to lead us, inevitably, to negative feelings: anxiety; worry; fear; sadness; regret.

To combat this, Seligman proposed the very simple task of spending five minutes every day writing down three positive things that went well during the course of each day. It could be something to do with our professional lives, or our family life, leisure pursuits, or anything more general; whatever it is, it’s about focusing on the positives.

I have found it very helpful to spend that brief period every day reflecting on what has happened during the course of my day, and seeking out the positives rather than dwelling on the negatives. And having received as a very thoughtful gift from a colleague a ‘Gratitude Journal’ this Christmas, I’ve really valued the opportunity to focus not only on Seligman’s What Went Well, but likewise spend time in gratitude for all the many good things that are a blessing in my life and my work, and to look forward to what each day may hold. It’s a simple exercise, but I’ve benefited greatly from it so why not give it a go?!

A New Coat for the New Year

Every year, I look forward to the opportunity to don my rather eye-catching red silk jacket, a beautiful and very generous gift from a former pupil back in my days as a boarding housemaster. Without fail each year, I’ll don the jacket to celebrate the Lunar New Year and join in a cultural celebration that traces its roots back some 3,500 years to ancient China, signifying the end of winter and the arrival of a new year.

2025 is the Year of the Snake – also referred to as ‘little dragons’ – their shed skin (the ‘dragon’s coat’) signifying good luck, rebirth, and regality.

As we marked the celebrations this week here at Oswestry School, it was a reminder once again of that important process of reflection and resolution, determinedly shedding the skin of that which is best left behind, and embracing the new year with hope, positivity, and renewed energy.

Journeying into a New Year

So, as we embark upon a new year, we can look back on the past year with gratitude for all that has been good in our lives, and look forward to all that is to come with a sense of positivity and optimism, and indeed each day reflect on all that has been positive, and look ahead to what is to come. The journey we traverse is never entirely straightforward, and no matter the plans and route-map we might have, life has a tendency to throw us an obstacle or two along the way. However, with our eyes firmly fixed forward (and the occasional glance back…) we can journey onwards with gratitude, companionship, and hope.

Wishing one and all a prosperous new year ahead!

Sometimes it’s the littlest things that have the biggest impact.  

When I was starting out as a teacher, I worked at a school where the Headmaster was a prolific writer of handwritten notes.  One lunchtime  in my first term at the school, we got chatting about my forthcoming challenge of running the Edinburgh marathon.  

A few months later in the week building up to the marathon, an envelope appeared in my pigeon hole in the staff room.  It was a handwritten note from the Headmaster – accompanied by a rather fine ink drawing of a runner pounding the tarmac- wishing me luck in the marathon.  I was touched that he had remembered the conversation we’d had all those weeks before, and had taken the time and trouble to provide such a beautiful and thoughtful note of good wishes.  It was a little thing but it meant a great deal, and  I’ve never forgotten the impact this had on me as a young teacher.  Being recognised, encouraged, and remembered; it really made a difference to me.

Ever since, I’ve sought to do likewise, taking the time to thank colleagues, write birthday cards for staff and pupils (as a school of 500 we’re small enough for me to be able to do so), and at our weekly Headmaster’s Awards – Forte – I make sure to write a handwritten, personal note of congratulations.  It may not seem like much, but I hope that the gesture demonstrates that their efforts are recognised and valued, and that in a small way it provides a little encouragement to them.

Small Actions; Big Impact

A couple of weeks ago, one of my colleagues caught this beautiful moment on camera as one friend helped another. A seemingly small and simple action – one friend helping another adjust his tie – but one that speaks volumes of the big impact that small gestures such as this have on embedding a culture of kindness.

The great basketball coach John Wooden once famously said, “The true test of character is what you do when nobody else is watching.”

Loyalty. Kindness. Thoughtfulness. These are the qualities of character that I value more than any other at Oswestry School and, whilst it’s not always captured around campus in an image like this, I see it every day in the actions – and interactions – between pupils, and it brings me no greater joy to see so clearly the strength that comes from these moments of camaraderie and community. Little moments; small gestures. But they all make a big difference.

Throwing Stars Into the Sea

In Loren Eisely’s story  ‘The Star Thrower’, the narrator describes seeing a figure on a beach in the distance, a young woman who reaches down to the sand and, picking up a starfish, gently throws it into the sea.

“Young lady,” he asked, “Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?”

“The sun is up, and the tide is going out,” replied the woman.  “If I do not throw them in, they will die.”

“But do you not realise there are miles and miles of sand, and starfish all along it? You cannot possibly make a difference.”

The young woman listened politely, paused and then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea saying, “Ah, but it made the difference for that one.”

Pausing to take in her words and think about what she had done, the man then joined her in throwing starfish back into the sea.  Soon others joined, and one by one the starfish were all saved.

Making the Difference

It may seem hopelessly idealistic – or at best futile – to think that small gestures can make a big impact, but I remain firm in the belief that it is in the gift of us all to make a difference to others, and that small gestures of kindness and thoughtfulness truly do have a big – and lasting – impact. In our busy lives where we’re ruled by the tyranny of the clock, it’s all too easy to race through a day without due regard for those we journey beside. But it takes but a few moments to pause to say thank you (or even better, write a note not an email!). It takes but a few moments to stop and help someone out. To ask someone how they are. To make someone’s day that little bit easier by taking something off their to do list. Will it fix the problems of the world? No. But will it make the difference to someone else? Absolutely, and that, in my book, makes it all worthwhile.

Small actions they may well be, but it’s the little things that really do make the difference.

What do you think of when you think about ‘home’? The place where you grew up? A physical building, the literal home in which you live at present?

Or does ‘home’ mean something different entirely: a community; a town; or even a nation?

It might make us think of the people that make up a home: our family; friends; neighbours; community members.

Or is it a more abstract notion, conjuring up images in your mind of belonging, stability, sanctuary, solace? The feeling of acceptance, the warm embrace of being loved. As the saying goes, home is where the heart is.

Perhaps ‘home’ means all of these things.

A Welcome Home

I have been thinking on the notion of ‘home’ recently following the arrival of a few new members to our school community. The first I knew of their arrival was during the Easter holidays, and I heard them before I saw them…

What’s all the commotion, I thought, as I looked out of our kitchen window as the early morning stillness was disrupted by an incongruous cacophony of noise. Pulling up the blinds, I was confronted by a rather proud-looking male pheasant strutting his stuff and making himself at home whilst the campus was unusually quiet with the pupils all away for the Easter break.

Soon enough a female pheasant was spotted, and during the course of the three week break, my family and I grew rather fond of the pair who were quickly christened ‘Dave’ and ‘Guiney’ (after the founders of Oswestry School: David and Guinevere Holbache). To begin with they were happy to confine themselves to the environs of our garden and the surrounding area (we live on site at the school), though they soon became a little more adventurous in their campus explorations. It made for a rather entertaining Easter as we sought out Dave and Guiney (forget an Easter Egg hunt; anyone for Find My Pheasant?!) and they quickly gained celebrity status on the school’s Instagram account.

As we closed in on the start of the summer term, however, I anticipated that this would mean a fond featherly farewell as the return of over 500 pupils on campus would put an end to their blissful existence, and an end to the peace and quiet of an empty school site.

No such thing. The pupils returned, and Dave and Guiney remained. Seemingly unaffected by the invasion of their new home by a swarm of teenagers, they continued to potter around Potter’s Lawn and pad around the Paddock; they were a part of our community now and very much at home.

Last week, however, it became clear just why they were here. With Guiney having relocated to the Chapel Garden a few days previously, outside of my study window one afternoon I could see on the lawn the scurrying of many little feet and not one pheasant, but a whole brood of little pheasants. Yes, Dave and Guiney were the proud parents of a dozen little pheasant chicks! The cuteness levels were off the charts, and very little work was achieved by any of us working in School House that afternoon. Never in the space of an hour period have I heard the word “Aw!” expressed so gushingly and so often. Mainly by myself.

The Importance of Place

Now perhaps I’m reading a little too much into it, but I viewed this happy moment as something of an endorsement of Oswestry School and our community. Yes, yes… I would say, that wouldn’t I? !

I’m no expert on pheasants nor poultry in general, but as I began to retrace their time with us on campus, I realised that Dave and Guiney had arrived here in search of a suitable place for the birth of their little family. In search of a sanctuary, in search of safety, in search- in short- of a home.

Get a grip, Middleton, I hear you cry! You’re letting your emotions get the better of you again! You’re turning a run of the mill everyday occurrence into an overly-sentimental Disney-esque vignette all for the sake of finding something to write about in your next blog- pathetic!

Say what you will, but I was rather touched – and moved – that they had found that place of sanctuary and safety on our school campus, that they had found a place that they could call ‘home’ for their little chicks, even if it is just temporarily, even if they are just passing through.

A Home from Home

After all, that’s what each one of us are doing: passing through. Home is but a temporary place and space as we journey through life (and we will of course call many places ‘home’), but there is a deep connection to those places that we call home, and when we put roots in a place, those don’t simply wither away when we leave. As the writer Michael Allan Fox puts it, “home always travels with us, preserved in some form or another.”

Whilst schools such as ours are often rooted in centuries of history (Oswestry was founded in 1407 by David and Guinevere Holbache…who weren’t actually pheasants I should add), pupils and staff alike are but passing passengers on that long voyage. Whilst our time here at the school is but temporary (and thank goodness for that, some might add!), in a small, close-knit campus community such as ours, school means so much more than just school.

For our boarders – who come from over 30 nations around the world- our school and their boarding house is very much a ‘home from home’, a sanctuary and solace, a place of belonging. Their parents choose our school because they recognise that this is an environment in which their sons and daughters can thrive and flourish (though alas, probably not fly, at least not literally), and somewhere they can temporarily call home.

Likewise for our day pupils, whilst of course each day they go home to their families, for many there is a deep connection to the school that will stay with them their entire lives; it is likewise a kind of home. That’s bound up in the friendships that they have made and in the experiences that they have had, but also in the sense of belonging and acceptance, and having been part of something that spans the centuries yet touches each and every individual who passes through it.

Homeward Bound

For our Upper Sixth who finished their final day of lessons last week and now embark upon study leave before the next couple of months of A Level examinations, they are readying themselves for their leave-taking. Some have been here their entire school careers from the age of 4 years old -young fledglings now ready to fly- but as they ready themselves to depart, I hope that they will sense that their time here has been more than just about turning up for lessons or turning out for the sports teams, or a star turn on stage (though all of these are still important). Hopefully they’ll sense, too, that this has been a place – and a space – where they’ve belonged, a place they’ve been able to call home.

And that doesn’t change when they leave. This school will remain a part of them, I hope, as they travel through life, and will always be a place where they will be made to feel welcomed whenever they return. And when they do return- which many of them will- I hope that it will feel very much like a coming home. For home really is where the heart is.

“And though home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit answered to, in strongest conjuration.”
-Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens