The Journey from Boy to Man

As our Grade 7's throw their caps in the air in jubilation at completing their years in Boys' Prep, one wonders if they realise what lies ahead of them when they return to the more serious, more competitive world of College next year.

We recently had our year-end party, where the levels of excitement held a certain sadness for the staff. As with many celebrations, there is a 'flat' feeling when the last chattering child has rushed out of the door, with that comes the 'between child and man' stage. We watch them leaving, confident we have done our job, hoping that they will be able to face their next stages in education standing on the firm foundation of diligence, honesty, fairness and self-confidence for which Saints is known.

The journey from boy to man is far more perilous today than it was even 20 years ago. Throughout the ages, the proof of manhood has usually involved killing something – be it man or beast: skill with a gun is a matter of pride even today in certain circles. Our boys have different challenges, often more dangerous. Life is tough out there. So we have to begin training them from a young age to be able to hold their own, to face daily challenges with courage and integrity, never losing that sense of 'self' or their Saints Honour.

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936) is known for his immensely popular short stories, poems and tales for children. We have all read The Jungle Book which still carries its message of a little boy's courage in adversity through films and TV series. Kipling was an admirer of strength and courage, particularly in the military, a theme which carries throughout most of his wonderful work. The work that best describes the journey from boyhood to manhood of our Saints' boys, however, is his masterfully powerful poem 'IF'.

So as we watch our Grade 7s leave the Prep, minds filled only with anticipation of their holidays, we can send them off with these lines:

IF.....
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And – which is more – you'll be a Man, my son!