A Principal’s Reflection
Since leaving the school setting to work within the office, I have gratefully kept connected to the life of school through our school’s newsletters. Last week I was reading the Principal’s message from St Joseph’s College, Lochinvar and was so inspired by Peter Antcliff’s message that I thought I would share this with our Diocesan School community. For many years, I have had the privilege of working with the teacher mentioned in this article and know him to have the highest of expectations for his students and the greatest joy at seeing their finished products. I thank Peter for being willing to share this story.
I don’t care how many times you’ve used them successfully—there’s always that moment of dread when you approach an alarm panel. You stride up confidently, fingers poised like a concert pianist, ready to punch in the code you’ve used a dozen times before. But then—bam! A rogue light flickers. A cryptic message flashes. And just like that, your blood pressure spikes and you’re suddenly questioning every decision you’ve ever made that has led you to be the one who has to navigate the alarm system.
So there I was, Tuesday night, after the Year 8 elective evening had wrapped up. The Leadership Team had done the rounds, ushered out the last lingering staff, and I was left to do the honours. The alarm panel awaited. I approached with the swagger of a man who’d done this successfully for two and a half terms. Code entered. I waited for the familiar beep, the comforting glow of green lights. Nothing.
No beep. No lights. Just a message: something, somewhere, wasn’t shut properly.
Cue the afterhours campus wander. Out into the dark my remaining colleagues and I went, searching for the elusive unsecured door. And then—light! The woodwork rooms were ablaze. As we got closer, we heard the unmistakable sounds of sanding, and hammering.
We opened the door and there they were—half a dozen Year 12 students, sleeves rolled up, goggles on, deep in the trenches of their HSC major works. Their teacher right there with them, guiding, encouraging, and clearly ignoring the concept of “home time.”
The first thing that struck me was the pride on display. There was no begrudging being there late, no glances at the clock or panic about a looming deadline, just heads down and tools in hand. All I could see were young people engrossed in their work, proud of their effort and their products. Also on full display was the commitment of their teacher, who despite having kids at home and been hard at it all day was still there, with his charges giving them every opportunity to succeed and reach their potential.
You could tell that this wasn’t their first after-hours session, it was routine. It was commitment. It was the kind of dedication that doesn’t get written into job descriptions but makes all the difference. Having been reassured that the alarms would be taken care of for me, I headed to my car both feeling proud and a little guilty. Pride in the student’s attitude and commitment and for the teacher’s dedication but also guilty because I was heading home after a long day and they were still at it.
It reminded me that education is a team sport. It takes the expertise of a passionate educator to set the standards, the commitment of home to encourage, guide and support their children but critically it takes action and engagement by the student. It is only when each of these elements are working together that we can ensure that our students reach the level of achievement which we all desire for them.
At the heart of academic success is a student’s willingness to take ownership of their learning. This means ensuring all tasks are completed with care and attention, and that deadlines are met consistently. It also involves proactive preparation—establishing a clear and realistic revision timetable that supports ongoing study rather than last-minute cramming. When students take responsibility in this way, they build habits that not only improve academic outcomes but also foster independence, resilience, and confidence in their ability to manage challenges both in and beyond the classroom.
And so, as I headed home on Tuesday night, I couldn’t help but reflect on what I’d just witnessed. Not just students working late, or a teacher going above and beyond—but a living, breathing example of what education looks like when everyone leans in. It’s messy, it’s noisy, it’s sometimes full of sawdust and late nights—but it’s also full of pride, purpose, and potential. Because when students take charge of their learning, when teachers show up with heart, and when families stand behind them, amazing things happen.