I have spent 22 years at St Thomas of Canterbury College.

When I walked through the gates for the first time in 2004 as a young social studies teacher, I had absolutely no idea of the impact that decision would have on my life. Like many teachers starting a new role, I was simply focused on doing my best for the students in front of me. Looking back now, I could never have imagined how deeply this place would become part of who I am.

The recent news surrounding the future proprietorship of our College and the decision by a religious order to seek permission through the courts to sell the assets of the school has prompted a profound period of reflection for me. It has also highlighted what I believe is a fundamental misunderstanding of what schools actually are. Discussions about the future of the College have understandably focused on ownership, governance, and assets, but in doing so there is a danger that we overlook the very thing that gives a school its true value.

Schools are often spoken about in terms of assets, property, and land. While every school, including St Thomas', takes pride in its buildings and environment, that is not what defines us. A school is not its classrooms. It is not its playing fields. It is not the value of its land or the size of its balance sheet.

Schools are, in my experience, the most human of organisations.

To speak about releasing or realising assets to a point where a school could potentially face closure overlooks the reality of what a school represents to thousands of people whose lives are intertwined with it. The strength of the school's opposition to the Christian Brothers’ court application to sell the land out from under us reflects the determination of the College community to protect the future of a place that has educated and supported generations of young people.

During my time at St Thomas', I have seen staff members begin families and celebrate the births of children. I have attended funerals of students, parents, and staff. I have watched young men arrive as nervous Year 9 students and leave as outstanding young adults. I have become a parent myself while my own children attended this College.

More personally, I experienced the true meaning of community when I was diagnosed with a high-grade cancer. The medical options available locally were limited, and the St Thomas' community rallied in a way that still humbles me today. Parents, old boys, staff and friends raised an extraordinary amount of money to allow me to travel to Sydney for specialist surgery. I genuinely believe that support helped save my life.

That was not about buildings.

That was not about land.

That was about people.

Over the past 22 years, more than 4,000 old boys have passed through our gates. Thousands more parents, families and supporters have invested their time, energy, faith and resources into this school. They are the fabric of this community. They have built this school through attendance dues, fundraising, volunteer work, advocacy and unwavering support. In many ways, the community itself has built what St Thomas' is today.

The true assets of St Thomas' walk through our gates every day.

They are the students who proudly wear our uniform.

They are the staff who dedicate their lives to educating and caring for young people.

They are the old boys who carry our values into the world.

They are the parents and whānau who place their trust in us.

Together we have celebrated life's greatest joys and supported one another through its hardest moments. I will never forget standing among more than a thousand students, staff, parents and old boys as we farewelled a beloved staff member. The silence, the haka, and the powerful rendition of our traditional Noku Masu hymn spoke to a connection that cannot be measured on a balance sheet.

St Thomas' has also become a true home for Māori and Pasifika communities in Christchurch. The richness and diversity of our people have strengthened our school in countless ways. Our Māori and Pasifika families have helped lead remarkable improvements in achievement, engagement and success. More importantly, they have demonstrated what genuine partnership looks like when schools and families work together with trust, respect and shared purpose.

The diversity of our community has been one of our greatest blessings.

Before decisions are made in courts about assets, it is important to acknowledge and understand the gravity of those decisions.

The impact is not measured in hectares of land, property values, or balance sheets.

The impact is measured in generations of people.

People who have built this community.

People who have grown up here.

People who have formed lifelong friendships here.

People who have celebrated births, mourned deaths, overcome adversity and found belonging here.

Over 22 years, I have seen the very best of humanity at St Thomas'. I have seen people bear their souls to each other in moments of joy and moments of heartbreak. I have seen staff, students, parents and old boys stand shoulder to shoulder when one of our own needed support. I have experienced that support personally when this community helped save my life.

This is what builds communities.

This is what creates a school.

These things cannot be bought.

They cannot be sold.

They cannot be transferred on a balance sheet.

They cannot be recreated once lost.

If we fail to recognise and value the human communities that schools create, then what hope do we have for the society we are trying to build? Because schools like St Thomas' are ultimately about far more than education. They are about people learning how to belong, how to care, how to serve, and how to live alongside one another. They are places where young people discover who they are and who they might become. They are places where families find connection, where staff dedicate their lives to a shared purpose, and where communities are strengthened across generations.

For 22 years, I have been privileged to witness the extraordinary humanity of the St Thomas' community. It has supported me, challenged me, shaped me, and inspired me. It helped save my life when I needed it most. It has welcomed thousands of young men and their families into a community that becomes part of who they are.

Whatever happens in the future, that is what I will always believe St Thomas' stands for.

Not bricks and mortar.

Not assets on a ledger.

Not land.

People.

Faith.

Community.

Belonging.

And a shared commitment to ensuring that future generations experience the same sense of connection, purpose, and opportunity that generations before them have found here.

The future discussions about proprietorship are important and deserve careful consideration, but they should always begin with an understanding of what is truly at stake: a community built over 65 years that has shaped lives, strengthened families, and created a sense of belonging for thousands of people.

For me, St Thomas' has never been a collection of buildings.

It has never been land.

It has never been an asset.

It has been a community.

It has been a family.

It has been a place where thousands of lives have intersected and been changed for the better.

And after 22 years, I can say without hesitation that St Thomas of Canterbury College is not simply where I work.

It is where I grew up as a teacher.

It is where I became a father.

It is where I learned what community truly means.

And for thousands of students, families, staff and old boys, it is home.

Steve Hart

Principal