As most readers of my writing will know, I do not normally post pictures of my hair online. I am not a ‘content creator’ (aka ‘influencer’) in the making, although I will confess to a desire to use the platform I have to make a positive difference in the world through challenging and supporting leaders to think ambitiously about their students, education, and the future of the world. My hairstyle, however, is not normally on the agenda, but I am making an exception today, because this photo that you can see is of more than a hairstyle – it is a photo that embodies a metaphor …
Those who know me will recognise immediately that this rather fetching style is not my customary look. The braid came about during a meeting of senior and executive leaders at Dalton School Hong Kong, in early September, as we worked together in person to prepare for an evening with parents to introduce new senior leaders to the community, and to talk about the exciting and powerful steps the school is taking as it moves into High School, honouring the vision of the Founders by developing a strong portfolio-based, dual language education. As we were all discussing how we should communicate ourselves on stage, and played around with various Dalton-themed props, one of our amazing leaders jumped in spontaneously, and redesigned my hair, to demonstrate in practice what could be, if we only thought differently.
I am, admittedly, only just writing about the experience now; life has a habit of crowding in, and as I pause in Doha airport on my way back to Edinburgh from Saudi Arabia, after a super 3 days challenging and supporting the senior leadership team at the British International School Jeddah, I find myself reflecting with energetic delight on the past few weeks. That particular meeting in Hong Kong remains vivid in my memory, not for the detail of the agenda, but for its atmosphere – it was suffused with laughter, with creativity, and with a refreshing sense of spontaneity. We achieved what we needed to, of course; the manner in which we achieved it, however, felt just as important as the outcome itself.
And this is where the braid becomes a metaphor. Education, like my hair that day, should be a process of weaving – delicate but robust strands brought together with patience and attentiveness; a pattern prompted by a need, and then drawing on the expertise of others around us. The outputs of real education form gradually, often unexpectedly, and always, always, with scope for individuality. The final braid, neat and pleasing, is worth having; it is the act of braiding, however – and the ‘why’ that lies behind it – that truly matters. The shifting of strands, the interplay of hands, the moments of amusement and surprise as something takes shape … these are what give the outcome its meaning.
Great schools, at their best, embody this spirit. They are places where process and outcome are not in competition, but in conversation; places where laughter and spontaneity sit comfortably alongside rigour and planning, and where the joy of learning is allowed to coexist with the seriousness of purpose. This is what makes education transformative – not the lovely neat braid itself, but the shared experience of creating it together. It is a genuine honour to be part of this process!
For in the end, education – like a braid – is most beautiful when it remembers that its strength lies in the weaving, not merely in the finished form. Perhaps we should reclassify education as a verb, not a noun … in any case, our task as educators is to look beyond … so, onwards and upwards together!
