It’s impossible to fully prepare for the moment when your community is confronted with tragedy.
I have witnessed the resilience of a school community, rooted in the people who come together when the world seems unstable.
I have realized that in trying times, true leadership doesn’t necessarily come from having all the solutions. It stems from being present, from fostering connections, and from providing stability when it is most necessary.
At times, the most impactful action one can take is simply to show up, time and time again.
When a terrorist attack struck Southport last July, students from Churchtown Primary, one of our institutions, were among those affected.
The summer vacation, typically filled with warmth, enjoyment, and laughter, was abruptly altered.
The heartache of that day was nearly unbearable for everyone as we learned that two of our students, Alice Aguiar and Bebe King, had tragically lost their lives, with others sustaining injuries.
The initial hours were saturated with confusion and anxiety. News spread rapidly, but accurate details took their time. It became clear that we could not rely on any existing protocols.
‘Compassion, Communication, and Community’
Together with the school leadership and our central team, we initiated our own response rooted in compassion, open communication, and a sense of belonging.
In the ensuing days, unrest and fear permeated the streets, deepening the shock already felt in our community.
Families, staff, and children were left in turmoil. Our responsibility as a trust was straightforward yet essential: to be a source of support in whatever form it was needed.
Reflecting on those moments, I recognize lessons I will carry for the rest of my career.
The primary lesson revolves around communication. In the immediate aftermath, information was scarce, and people sought reassurance. What proved most crucial wasn’t having every answer but rather being visible, honest, and calm.
We made an effort to keep families, staff, and the broader community informed, at times simply reassuring them with, “we don’t have all the answers yet, but we’re here for you.”
Those consistent touchpoints offered solace. People need to feel there is someone reliably holding the fort amidst chaos.
The second lesson centers on belonging. In those challenging initial days, our team resolved to keep Churchtown open as a gathering spot for individuals to come together. It became a hub for community connection.
Two days following the attack, children, parents, staff, and the wider community entered the school not for lessons, but to find solace. Children shared hugs, parents shed tears, and staff lent attentive ears to their needs.
There was no pressure to fill silence; simply being present was powerful. We took cues from the community.
‘Working Towards Normalcy’
From that moment onward, the school hosted weekly gatherings throughout the summer break, with counselors and psychologists on hand to support those who needed assistance. Churchtown became a steadfast anchor for the community.
As September loomed closer, we focused on facilitating a gradual return to a semblance of normalcy.
Pupils engaged with their new teachers in small groups for joy and conversation, while parents were also welcomed into the school. We understood how difficult that first moment of separation would be. The compassion exhibited during those days by parents, staff, and children was truly extraordinary, highlighting what a genuine community entails.
Gradually, we shifted our focus to honor the memories of the two precious students, Alice and Bebe, in a way that captured their spirit and joy.
Collaborating with their families and the community, the vision for a memorial playground began to emerge. The fundraising initiative was spearheaded by headteacher Jinnie Payne, along with Alice’s father, Sergio, and a trust director, all of whom participated in the London Marathon together.
‘A Beacon of Hope’
What originally started as a modest goal transformed into something remarkable: over £400,000 raised for the construction of a playground and library, with surplus funds directed to local charities.
This September, the playground was inaugurated by the Prince and Princess of Wales. Watching the children laugh, dance, and play on the new outdoor stage—a space created for joy—was profoundly moving.
This playground stands as a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, light can return.
One final lesson I’ve learned is that healing is a gradual process, and care must not be expedited. Trauma impacts people in diverse ways. Our role as leaders is to continue showing up, to keep listening, and to create a supportive space long after the headlines have faded.
What transpired in Southport will always remain etched in memory. Yet, equally unforgettable is the compassion that emerged— from staff who devoted themselves to their community, from families who uplifted one another through grief, and from children who somehow found the strength to laugh again.
This past year has reinforced my belief that the core of education doesn’t lie in policy or performance metrics. It resides in people—the quiet resilience that binds a community when unimaginable hardship occurs, and the hope that fuels its healing.
