Twelve months ago, as I stood behind this lectern, you might remember me saying that of the four whole-school assemblies that we stage each year, it is this one, at the end of Term 2, that is the most bittersweet by far.

The first assembly heralds the new school year - it’s a time of fresh starts, and fresh starts are wonderful. The second assembly heralds Christmas, and Christmas is wonderful. The fourth assembly heralds the summer holidays, and, well, the summer holidays are wonderful. But this, the third, the Easter assembly, heralds the imminence of the “exam season”, and while some people may consider examinations to be wonderful, let’s face it, those people are not numerous.

In any case, exams apart - whether you love them or loathe them - the bittersweet reality is that, for some of our Year 11s and for all of our Year 13s, their upcoming GCSE and IB Diploma examinations represent the end of their journeys at ICHK. In July, when I next stand up to address you all, you won’t all be here. Year 13, certainly, will be absent - and, such is the way of things, they will never return.

I think of this third assembly, then, as the Farewell Assembly, the “Have A Good Life!” assembly, and each year I feel duty-bound, for what it’s worth, to offer our soon-to-be alumni a few words of what I hope is sound advice, with the intention that it might stick in their minds when much else about school is forgotten.

On this occasion, in delivering that sound advice, I’d like to begin by sketching a learning activity to which I introduced my Year 7 Human Technologies class earlier this week.

It’s a powerful activity that is used quite widely, not just with children in schools, but also with adults, in professional and corporate training. It’s suitable for such a diverse set of participants because the personal qualities it draws on are found, to one degree or another, in humans right across their lifespan, from young children to highly experienced adults. And while age is often an important factor in the way people handle the challenge, it’s by no means the only factor. Some very young people manage the activity well, some older people manage it very badly.

The activity is beautifully simple but leads to a very rich experience. It’s called “Blind Lead”. To begin with, participants are placed in pairs. One person in each pair is securely blindfolded, so that they can see literally nothing. Temporarily, they are entirely deprived of sight. This newly “blind” person must rely on their partner for what is to follow. It is the partner’s responsibility to lead them without harm and with minimal distress through an environment which they cannot see. The character of that environment can be manipulated in many different ways. You can build a maze or an obstacle course, you can blast participants with loud music or noise, you can move things around unexpectedly, you can introduce time limits - but on Monday, I simply asked my class to guide each other round the school, on what was a rather damp, chilly, and slippery morning.

Now, in my experience of running this activity with many different groups over the years, in order to make it impactful, the most important factor is how long it is allowed to go on for: ideally it must run for no less than 20 to 30 minutes. Only then does its more profound potential become apparent.

Typically, when you start the activity there is a period of self-consciousness. No one is quite sure what they are doing and there is a lot of giggling and awkward fumbling around. The blindfolded person is torn between finding it a briefly absorbing novelty, on the one hand, or an unsettling irritation, on the other; while their guide is often initially befuddled and thoughtless in their role, content to treat them as if they were actually not blindfolded at all. “Sit down over here” they say, gesturing at a chair their partner cannot see. Or, “Just walk towards the door.” Or, even worse, “Just walk!”

Gradually, however, the novelty of the situation wears off and the true hardship of blindness, experienced in a world designed for those who are sighted, dawns on both parties. This is where the activity becomes interesting. How will the partners cope with this dawning realisation?

I won’t walk you through my class’ full experience. Suffice to say that they took the activity seriously, grew into their roles, became more thoughtful and skillful with practice, and ended up impressing both themselves and me. The guides got better with time and their “blind” partners reported, on the whole, feeling well looked after and comfortable moving around the school.

Once everyone had experienced both guiding and being blindfolded, we returned to the classroom, where we took some minutes to reflect on what the group had been through.

What thoughts and feelings did you experience, I asked them? What impressions, observations, and concepts come to mind? What words would sum up your experience and the insights it offered? An initial trickle of suggestions swiftly turned into a torrent …

Faith, they said … Bravery, Responsibility, Collaboration, Friendship, Communication, Teamwork, Kindness, Encouragement, Safety, Security, Balance, Aspiration, Direction-giving, Guidance, Feelings, Trust, Leadership, Overcoming, Ethics, Respect, Disability, Confidence, Care, Determination, Struggle …

Wow! I said. What a wonderful collection. Imagine a world in which these words and what they stand for were truly taken seriously. A world where people were judged and valued by their willingness to act in ways that promoted only the behaviours to which these words point. Imagine people taking exams in that! Well done, you’ve got an A* in caring. 45 points in Ethics and Respect.

OK, I said, quite excited by now; next question. Of all these words, which do you think are most fundamental? Which of them create the foundations on which the other words build? Which of these words must come first, if we are to invent that other, better world?

Faith, they said … Kindness, Safety, Trust, Respect, Care.

No good, said someone - we're choosing them all, we’re going round in circles! A general murmur of agreement.

You’re right, I said. Just one, then. Let’s choose just one. Which one word do we need for all the rest to follow?

Safety, came a chorus of Year 7 voices. Safety.

And, based on my own lifetime experience, I’m inclined to agree. I think that, if you want a world in which people can communicate, in which they show kindness, in which they are ready to trust, are free to aspire, where they feel confident and balanced, are eager to collaborate and quick to encourage, show sympathy for those who struggle or who experience disability, a world in which people act ethically, shoulder responsibility, and embrace team effort, then the very best place to start is having everyone feeling safe.

And so, finally, we come to it.

My words of advice to those ICHK students for whom this is their final assembly: find it in yourselves, constantly and dependably, to be disposed towards promoting others people’s safety.

Learn how to make other people feel safe around you - and achieve that aim by being someone around whom other people can rightly feel safe.

Don’t gossip, don’t conspire, don’t backstab, don’t snipe.

Don’t be a gasbag, a false friend, a tattler, or a gab.

Be trustworthy, be true to your word. Be true.

These are the things that make people feel safe. And when they feel safe, people will come to you - and they will dream with you and plan with you and work with you and accomplish great things with you. That is the ground of human achievement, it always has been, always will be - and it begins with you.

Best of luck to you all - have a good life!