One Extraordinary School

We were booked in one school for three assemblies in one day — Grades 0–3, 4–6, and 6–8.

Before a single bike was parked or a microphone turned on, the tone was already set.

The principal met us in his office to coordinate the day. He was hands-on, thoughtful, and quietly strategic — the kind of leader who doesn’t just run a school, but builds a culture. He cared deeply about his students, his staff, and the environment they were creating together.

Mid-conversation, he paused and called out for the AV team.

I expected a staff member… maybe a couple of older students.

Instead, a group of young kids rolled in.

They confidently wheeled in the equipment, set up the sound, ran checks, and when it was time for the presentation, they clicked through the slides right on cue — calm, capable, and completely unfazed. As a biker who’s been to a lot of schools, I was honestly blown away.

Between assemblies, they played music for us. That downtime gave us a chance to talk — not just small talk, but real conversation. About school. About responsibility. About what it feels like when adults trust you to matter.

Each assembly was tailored to the age group — gentle and reassuring for the youngest students, more reflective for the middle grades, and honest and empowering for the older ones. But the message was the same across the board: kindness is strength, and courage grows when people show up for each other.

What stood out most wasn’t just that the school brought us in to talk about bullying — it was how the principal included students in the daily life of the school. He gave them responsibility. He gave them ownership. He showed them that their contributions mattered.

That’s how you build confidence.
That’s how you create belonging.
That’s how you bully-proof a school before bullying ever has room to grow.

Three assemblies.
A hallway full of capable kids.
And one principal quietly being the hero his school needed.