When my daughter was in Year 8, her class was tasked with coming up with an advertising campaign for her school. The winning slogan was simple: ‘It’s not a school it’s a home. It’s not a class, it's a family.’ It perfectly encapsulated Immanuel College. The school in leafy Hertfordshire has felt like a family to two of my children and thousands of others over its 35 years - but yesterday it announced that at the end of this academic year it will be closing its doors for the very last time.
It’s devastating news, not only for current pupils, who are feeling heartbroken at losing that home and facing uncertainty ahead, but for all the future generations who will never get to experience it. Immanuel College is unique in the most wonderful of ways. You feel it as soon as you go through the (Fort Knox) gates. It has a sense of warmth that’s so rare in a secondary school, an incredibly vibrant Jewish soul (any excuse and the Jewish music seems to be blaring for the kids to dance) and an unbelievable cohort of teachers who genuinely care about their pupils.
That was brought home at a recent parents' evening when the teacher said to me: "When I talk about ‘my kids’, my husband now realises I’m usually referring to my students, but they feel like my children.” It was a throw-away comment but a genuine one that sums up the school perfectly. The culture of Immanuel brings that warmth out in its teachers and means pupils feel seen, encouraged and cared for. My older daughter’s form teacher used to take her class on “walkies” every morning to appreciate the beautiful greenery and peek at the horses in the next field. Another perfect illustration of the loving, unique (and at times mildly bonkers) environment.
I can’t speak for every pupil but I have now had experience of three private secondary schools for my own children and I know which one I would pay for all over again. If I could bottle what Immanuel College has given my girls it would be priceless. The school’s blend of heart and soul topped with Jewish passion and pride is a perfect recipe. In practical terms, a more intimate school environment and smaller class sizes are also key to its success.
I feel it manages to do what every school aspires to: “bring out the best” in all its pupils. Their concerts and plays are often a wonderful showcase of that. I’ve never cried at any other secondary school concert but it’s a serious challenge keeping a dry eye through an Immanuel College performance – even when it’s not my own child on stage. It's the spirit and confidence that oozes out of the kids that’s so beautiful to see.
But now it’s time for Immanuel’s final act and it will be genuinely painful to say goodbye. It seems unfathomable that the school will no longer exist; that the JKT and the B Block will sit empty; that there won’t be any kids kicking a ball around the fields; that no one will be popping to the Bait for a nugget of Jewish inspo at break. But that’s the reality. Immanuel College is over. Its time is up, leaving hundreds of its pupils facing an educational and emotional crisis without school places for next year.
With higher VAT rates and so many good state school options, numbers have been declining. For the last few years, community benefactors have been plugging the gap, which last year amounted to £2million, but with less demand from paying pupils, there's also less motivation from funders, which has now brought the school to its knees. The school’s Chair of Governors, Daniel Levy, his board and head teacher deserve a medal for their efforts but reality has hit.
Parents are desperately trying to make alternative funding plans and there are talks to keep certain year groups going, but it’s not a sustainable solution. Without the emergence of a wealthy benefactor (feel free to make contact if you’re out there) our community will lose this incredible jewel.
I feel only gratitude for those who have propped it up, but I can’t help feeling it’s also a miscalculation by our community to let it die. Who knows if single faith state schools have a future in this country. At a time when our children’s strength in their own identity is so essential, it feels doubly tragic for a school that instills that Jewish pride to close. But this tragedy is one that the Immanuel College community of parents, pupils, teachers, trustees, governors and alumni will have to mourn together. The school has shaped the lives of so many British Jews, many of whom advocate for our community and are making the most positive waves in the wider world. Although the college is closing, its energy will always be out there, those waves will keep moving and its powerful legacy will remain.
Naomi Greenaway is the Deputy Head of Long Read Features at the Telegraph
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