Life in the Boarding House
Life in the boarding house is, at first glance, a triumph of routine over chaos. On closer inspection, it is chaos that has agreed, temporarily, to wear a timetable. Each day begins not with inspiration but with the blunt insistence of the Form 8’s alarm clock, a device whose sole moral purpose is to remind us that sleep is a privilege, not a right. Beds are made and dorms inspected, thus initiating even the most reluctant boarder into the unromantic but essential business of self-reliance. By breakfast, one has already learned that civilisation is a fragile construct, upheld by punctuality, toast and the ever-sunny disposition of our chef, Sinisa.
The day unfolds according to a rhythm that quickly becomes second nature. Morning music practice gives way to the choir bell, then rehearsal, and finally the start of the school day, all carried out with impressive efficiency. Recreation is not merely encouraged but required. The IT room, a modern confessional, hums constantly, its atmosphere oscillating between the frantic completion of prep and the creation (and frequent wholesale destruction) of Minecraft worlds. It is as if the house recognises that without football, table tennis, pool, and the occasional ill-advised venture into more creative pastimes, balance would be lost altogether.
The tuck cupboard occupies a position of almost theological importance. I am delighted to say that our boys can resist everything but temptation. Meanwhile, pranks on Matron, never malicious, always optimistic, represent the boarding house’s ongoing experiment in testing authority while preserving goodwill. We are fortunate (in terms of entertainment value) that both Matron Tina and Matron Marcia are of a nervous disposition but indeed relieved that they too have a robust constitution, and a riotous sense of humour.
Evenings bring a different mood. Evensong and supper are more civilised affairs. Managing prep alongside choir commitments is as much about time-management as endurance and it is at this time (more than any other) that one sees the huge benefits in resilience, concentration and dedication synonymous with choristers. Before bed, medication is dispensed with quiet efficiency, laundry appears and disappears from the linen room with mysterious regularity, and bedtime stories are conducted, when Mr Farmer is on duty, at considerable length and enthusiasm.
Perhaps the most revealing aspect of boarding house life is the expectation placed on older boys. Form 8 pupils wake younger boys and help them navigate the day, and in doing so discover that responsibility is less glamorous than advertised but infinitely more instructive. Independence is not taught in the classroom but through necessity, through lessons passed from one generation of chorister to another, through innovation, imagination and ultimately through personal growth.
In the end, the boarding house is far more than a place to live. It is a formative training ground for adulthood. It fosters discipline through daily practice, camaraderie through shared experience, and independence through genuine responsibility. While it may not be easy at every moment, it is difficult to leave without having grown in confidence, character, and resilience.
Mr John Robson
Housemaster
