To each child, school is a concept, a memory that is always felt, like a spectre of foggy remembrance, but seldom analysed. Schools and childhood collide and intersect; the two being our primal sources of future selves. A good, sustaining space, our school, must retain that character of gossamer, always connected but never pulling. At Northstar I try to build and preserve this nebulosity of memory and presence. As Stanislaw Lem said, "The ossified order of maturity destroys the primal richness of childhood. With the demise of imagination I inherited it's residue, a kind of permanent disagreement with reality, more like an anger, though, than a rejection."
In the hope that the idealised and, perhaps, romanticised world of the school will lead us beyond being that "savage who, warming himself by a fire of burning books, the writings of the wisest men, believes that he has drawn tremendous benefit from his find!"
We hope to build and sustain that realm beyond time and conflict.