Before half term, we celebrated the school birthday in an assembly filled with fascinating historical talks, singing and inspirational poetry. We also prayed. As Godolphin is a secular school, I am always surprised at what a large part religion (in particular Christianity) plays on important days in our school calendar. We have carol services, hymns, Bible readings - it’s simply tradition. But when does tradition stop being something nice we observe to remember and honour our school’s background, and start hindering the progression of our school currently? It’s an idea that has been weighing on my mind lately, as holidays such as Thanksgiving are abandoned by many due to their colonial history, but traditions such as Halloween and Christmas are celebrated by more people each year, more lavishly (and with more Instagram posts) than ever. The place of tradition in modern society is perhaps too complex a topic to delve into here, but a step on the way to understanding this is learning what value tradition has in our school in 2020, or if it just holds us back.
Ask me if the traditions of our school are of great importance to me, and on first thought (being completely honest) I would probably say no. But you only had to observe the uproar this year when students found out we would no longer be traipsing around Ravenscourt Park in fancy dress to commemorate the founding of our school to realise that Godolphin is a place steeped in tradition. Because, in these buildings, tradition isn’t just religious jargon or a plaque on a wall. It’s those little aspects of our community that remain unchanged despite renovations and repainting, from one September to the next: the cheers when an unsuspecting Year 7’s plate clatters to the floor in the dining hall, or the moan when Mr Carrol announces another change to the door code. These, it seems, are what connects one Godolphin girl to another, what remains consistent throughout generations. Because without these traditions, would we be able to say this is the same school as it was 10 or 20 years ago? Sure, some physical aspects are the same, but a lot differs: new buildings, new pupils, new syllabuses and lunch menus. I doubt the Dolphins of the 1940s and 50s that Ms Triccas spoke about in a recent assembly would see Year 10s making Tik Toks outside the Pod and think “ahh it’s just like the good old days”.
The philosopher John Locke had a theory about personal identity (stay with me – I promise it’s relevant), he said it was our memories which connected our younger, past self to our current and future self, like links in a chain. The more memories you have of a certain time, the more connected you are now with yourself at that time. My sentimental mind quite likes the idea of Godolphin as being one ever-growing chain, and the tiny traditions that are familiar to every student connecting one link to the next. But, in times when it is necessary for us to evolve and adapt (and our school along with us) more than ever, is tradition holding us back? Do we need to stop focusing on holding onto the past and instead concentrate on our future – and making sure we have a future at all (global warming, I’m looking at you)? It is easy to argue yes - obviously issues such as tackling our environmental impact and cultivating body positivity are massively important. Yet, is it possible to improve our school in these transformative ways if we don’t keep these trivial traditions alive? Change can only be enacted successfully if we all participate, and it is our silly rituals that create a closer community and therefore a community which is prepared to go forward and evolve. I’m aware that this all sounds a bit cringe, but if you’ve ever had a moment at school where you look around you and think, it’s pretty cool that I get to go here, and effect this community in any small way, then maybe you can see where I’m coming from.
So if muttering the Lord’s Prayer and belting out ‘Jerusalem’ is what it takes to keep tradition alive at Godolphin, and in turn keeps us connected to those before and after us, then I, for one, am willing to sit through however many hours of Bible readings it takes to ensure the aspects that make our school a community continue. (to an extent – I’ll never be willing to be made late for lunch. Actually, that stampede for the Friday lunch queue is a tradition I’d quite like to see disappear, if that’s ok with you).
By Phoebe Pascoe, LVI
Comentarios