Schools are different from the rest of the world. That’s obviously an understatement in many ways, but at this time of year it is especially the case. For us, it’s September—not January—that marks the start of the year. It’s September when we make our new year’s resolutions. It’s September when we are most full of anticipation for what’s to come.
September is the month of new beginnings. New pupils crossing the threshold for the first time. New members of staff to settle in. And for us at Cranleigh, this year we have a new look and feel to the way we present ourselves to the outside world.
That’s important, because we want our parents, pupils and staff to know that we’re serious about what we do.
We’re here to educate our young people to be the best they can be so that they thrive in all aspects of their lives both now and in the future, professionally and personally. To motivate a new generation of leaders who think globally, act with integrity and make courageous contributions to an ever-changing world. To develop critical thinkers, creatives, communicators and characters who understand the importance of curiosity, generosity and humility.
If that sounds momentous, that’s because it is meant to. There’s no greater privilege than to spend your working life in the service of education and creating opportunities for young people. That’s what I’ve always believed in any case. For me, the chief driver is potential. The potential of young people is perpetually and perennially inspiring and that is why still after 25 years in education and 15 years as a Head, I still feel the same positive energy as we head to the new academic year.
And yet, September also brings its share of sleepless nights. Alongside the anticipation—of new ideas, new faces, new possibilities—there’s anxiety. The quiet kind. The kind that creeps in around 3am when you’re wondering whether the preparation that’s gone in over the Summer will withstand the pressures of the term ahead.
Over the past two months, the school has been anything but quiet. Our campus has undergone a transformation. The most significant project has been the creation of our new Sixth Form Centre. This isn’t just a new building; it’s a tangible expression of our commitment to setting our young people up for success. It’s a space designed to reflect the transition our older students are making, a bridge between school life and the professional world that awaits them. It will be a place for collaboration, quiet study and the development of the crucial communication and problem-solving skills that employers are so eagerly seeking. We are creating an environment where our students can develop the attributes and skills needed for modern living.

Head Boy Theo C. and Marketing Prefect Ruby M. visiting the new Sixth Form Centre.
September applies just as much to our staff as it does to our students. A new term allows us to refine our approaches, to innovate, to find new ways to nurture intellectual curiosity, inspire, challenge and embed new, positive working habits and personal responsibility. It’s a moment to reinforce our partnership with families so that we provide a balanced and truly personalised education for every student.
I also love seeing and hearing the added value created in the margins—by the form tutor who notices a shift in mood, the lunchtime supervisor who offers a quiet word, the colleague who tweaks a lesson plan to make it land just right. These aren’t headline moments, but they’re the ones that shape outcomes.
At this time of year there is plenty of energy. The challenge is preserving it deep into October, November and beyond. If we can hold onto that sense of purpose, if we can keep showing up with curiosity, generosity and humility, then it lifts expectations for everyone around us and those best laid plans have the best chance of coming to fruition.

Year 9 enjoying their discovery quiz.
So, September underlines the paradox of a career in education. True, you live in a state of constant renewal, but you’re never quite starting from scratch. There’s always something carried over—unfinished conversations, unresolved tensions, untested plans. It’s a bit like Monopoly: you circle the board again, hoping this time you’ll build something stronger and avoid the pitfalls you encountered last time. More importantly though, while we, as educators, get to go again—another term, another September—the children in our care do not. For them, this year is the only Year 9, the only GCSE run-up, the only first day at secondary school. They only get one shot.
That’s why the stakes are high. That’s why we have to be on our game. And that’s why, even in the quiet moments of anxiety or exhaustion, we keep going. Because the privilege of shaping young lives is matched only by the responsibility to keep getting it right.

Our pupils exploring the campus on their first day of term.