The idea that certain places are in some way special, unique, or important is – as far as we can tell – as old as humanity. Sometimes, places are deemed special as a result of striking natural features: mountains and rivers, for instance, have often been viewed as sacred. But places can also be made special through the efforts of the people who interact with them. There are plenty of cave systems throughout the world, but only some of these were painted by human hands over forty thousand years ago. Likewise there are plenty of plains, but only some were marked with massive stone structures.

But mountains and stone circles are not required for a place to be special, unique, or important. In the ancient world, everyday spaces including cities had their genius loci or ‘spirit of the place’ and homes included both human families and domestic spirits. While many of us no longer believe that actual spirits inhabit our cities or homes and I suspect few of us venture into caves to leave our handprints or struggle to erect stone circles, the idea that places have their own unique spirit persists. Architects and urban planners still describe the genius loci or unique intangible qualities of the places in which they work and of the spaces they create. Sociologists and psychologists use a different term, ortgeist, which also translates to ‘spirit of a place’ to describe the unique character or atmosphere of specific places within human societies.

I have lived and worked in many different places. In the last three years I’ve moved from Montreal Canada where I was a professor at a large college, to Luton where I worked at a challenging secondary school, to Reading where I have the pleasure of working at The Abbey. I was struck by the spirit of this place the moment I walked into the school for the first time to be interviewed for the post of Teacher of Philosophy and Theology.

The fact that The Abbey is a special place was obvious to me at once. While I was a bit nervous that first day, I felt the underlying stress that I didn’t even know I had been feeling whilst working at my former school drain out of me as I sat in reception. Students walked in the door smiling and staff joked with each other. The excitement and positive energy was palpable. It felt like something special was about to happen – as if it was Christmas morning – even though it was a perfectly normal Friday in May.

It can be difficult to evoke the spirit of a place with words. While I was sitting on the train back to Luton, my wife texted to ask me what I thought of the school. Still not knowing whether my interview had been successful, the best I could come up with was ‘It’s just such a lovely school, I really hope I get the job’.

Since I was hired last year, I’ve had more time to experience the loveliness of this place. While I’m still a Teacher of Philosophy and Theology, I’ve taken on additional roles at The Abbey and am now the Multi-Faith Chaplain as well as the EDI-Coordinator and Eco-Coordinator. These roles have given me opportunities to interact with more students and staff and so perhaps I’m now able to articulate the Abbey spirit a bit better.

So, what is the spirit of our school?

The Abbey resonates with quiet self-assurance. Students contribute in lessons, challenge themselves, each other, and their teachers, supporting each other all the while. We see self-assurance in the boldness of art displays, the gracefulness of dance performances, and the poise of our talented musicians.

The Abbey thrums with enthusiasm. We see this in the determination of our athletes, public speakers, and chess champions; in the resolve of our students as they strive for and achieve excellent examination results; and in the ambition of both students and teachers as they continue to develop as thinkers and learners.

The Abbey is a place where delight takes root and thrives. Teachers are delighted by student success and students support their peers’ achievements. There is so much laughter and silliness to balance the self-assurance and resolve and I encounter so many genuine smiles each day. The Abbey is, for me, a model for caring positive human engagement.

If only I could sum up the spirit of this place in a few short words…

I suppose I might try to encapsulate self-assurance, boldness, and poise with the word confidence. Purpose seems like a good candidate to describe the enthusiasm, determination, and resolve that characterise the school. Delight, silliness, and laughter all sound like joy to me.

In the end, I suppose my original description fits. Because it really is lovely to work in a school where the aims are more than just a slogan and where, instead, they accurately describe the spirit of the place.

Dr Cuthbertson, Chaplain/Teacher of Philosophy and Theology/EDI Coordinator