The fun of being 'not a proper school'

Visiting prospective parents are occasionally shocked by my description of Milton Abbey as not being a proper school. I hastily explain to them that with 240 or so in the school we can’t be ‘proper’: as the length of the school photograph defines schools. The longer the photo, the better the school. Proper schools should have serried ranks of 600 + and faces should be mere dots within the endless rows of pupils. On our latest photo all faces can be seen in detail!

The other key reason why we are not ‘proper’ is that as a school we passionately believe in education rather than just teaching. Skinner defined education as being that which you remember when the teaching is forgotten. The Schleswig-Holstein Question, a knowledge of capital cities and the chemical formula for toluene are vital for passing exams, but of less use in living life to the full. Here the values of the heart – the aesthetic, spiritual and creative – and the values of gut thinking – instinct and common sense – are crucial. Education is about developing the key organs of thought in a person, namely, the head, the heart and the guts.

‘Proper’ schools excel in areas that can be measured. Exam results, reading ages, spelling ages and even the combined points scored in rugby matches over a season. ‘Improper’ schools, because of their size and personal nature, value the immeasurable above everything else. How can you calculate honesty, integrity, ability to cope with difficult people, or even failure? And yet it is surely these values that are at the very essence of what education should be about.

Magic by its nature is hard to define, but our advantage here is that of size. Little schools have big hearts. With only 240 or so in the school, everybody knows everybody else as people. Individuality can be prized rather than made to conform to the pattern of the majority. Inherently we prove to be a fertile ground for all abilities and all sorts. We can cater for a wide intellectual ability range because we can get to know and like each of our pupils. Bigger schools cannot achieve this, as they are too big. They must be run by complex bureaucratic systems and are unavoidably impersonal. People, both staff and pupils, can easily get lost, especially at times when they need the most help. By their very nature institutions institutionalise.

Big schools claim their success as corporate successes whilst, at a small school, it is not the bundled academic statistics and the games lost or won which are the measure, but rather the personal achievements of boys and girls. To us it is more thrilling for Harry to have gained a C grade in his A level than the fact that Alan got four straight As and is off to Medical School. That was always going to be the case, but Harry had performed way beyond anyone’s expectation.

At Milton Abbey, we have created what other, bigger schools strive for in vain – an intimate community in which achievement in any area of school life is never rated more highly than quality of character. Because of our size, no one is overlooked. Everyone is famous and, vitally, kindness rules.

It is by learning to live and work with others that we discover who we are. If boys and girls are to grow up to be the best possible version of themselves, they must grow up in an environment in which they will feel safe to be themselves, in which they will be nourished, supported and frequently praised – and picked up, ticked off and dusted down when they get it wrong.

We in small schools can show our pupils how they can make the most of themselves in all areas of growing up. We can help them to achieve the best exam results they can and, at the same time, we are able to guide and nourish them, because we all get to know them so well, in their personal and social development, for their success and happiness in life will be founded on all three of these, equally.

The years 13 to 18 constitute a busy period for boys and girls as they journey with dizzying rapidity – and many adventures – from childhood to young adulthood. On the way they meet, let's be realistic, with triumph and disaster, from which they are able to learn invaluable lessons. By the fact that all in a small school are so well known, we are able to guide them through the inevitable failures with rigorous kindness based on our liking of them and our knowledge of them as individuals.

We cannot guarantee success – no school can. Human nature cannot be engineered and education can only be a consensual process. If all goes well – and it almost always does – it is likely that, five years on, the achievements of pupils will greatly exceed parental expectations.

School is not an end in itself. We are proud that Milton Abbey pupils go on maturing long after they have left us, continuing what they have learnt here long after they have forgotten everything they were taught. As an improper school, I have always put forward the case for the fact that our ‘end product’ is a 22-year-old girl or a 26-year-old boy with whom you wouldn’t mind sharing a desert island. They are all different, but, famously, they share a very special spirit. We are proud to send into the world young, self-reliant citizens at ease with themselves and others – and hungry for the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead.

Jonathan Hughes-D’Aeth has been Headmaster of Milton Abbey since 1995.