Nicola Sitch ('15)
Nicola Sitch ('15)

School Captain, 2015

We often speak about the intimacy of St Catherine’s. But, I am hooked on its strength. And, as I stand in the School Hall tonight, addressing the School for what will be my final time – I feel its strength more than ever. It is this unpronounced, resounding feminine force. A quiet understanding that we are all here, on the same team – as happy for each other as we are for ourselves.

We often speak about the intimacy of St Catherine’s. But, I am hooked on its strength. And, as I stand in the School Hall tonight, addressing the School for what will be my final time – I feel its strength more than ever. It is this unpronounced, resounding feminine force. A quiet understanding that we are all here, on the same team – as happy for each other as we are for ourselves.

Walking out the gates yesterday with 75 of my closest friends, I knew, somehow, that it would always be this way. It is the strength of tradition. The hand marks on the walls. The way Sherren House creaks under the weight of 7,000 girls past and present. The knowledge that, for almost 120 years, St Catherine’s students have sat together and wondered about the future.

And so, as leavers in 2015, we step into a world full with their legacy, abounding with their curiosity and made better by their spirit. We are embraced by generations of that same St Catherine’s fortitude. It is also the strength of our teachers and leadership team. Their unspeakable commitment. Their diligence, their patience, their care. The sense of profound mutual respect that they offer us – every day.

It is the strength of this group, right here, now. Both as individuals and as a collective. Tonight, I feel a little bit maternal, which, I will admit, is not a common experience for me. But as each of these girls have graced the stage and collected their awards, or have sat in their seats and cheered on their friends, I have wanted to pinch their cheeks and take a photo, because we are celebrating such a special moment. A group of people on the precipice of it all, strong with what they have learnt, and felt, and known, here at St Catherine’s.

And I guess, for that, we have to thank the strength of our parents.

Their bravery as we disappear on trips for weeks at a time to foreign countries. Sometimes, offering no contact except perhaps, an unexplained photo of us eating a frog, or driving uphills in the back of trucks. Or in my case, what looked like a wedding picture with a strange Fijian man. And the patience they demonstrate as their political views and lifestyle choices are scrutinised and condemned by a fifteen year old who has just learnt to think critically; testing out the esoteric knowledge she picked up in her Years 9 and 10 Electives.

I know that, in my Year 10, mum endured hours of Socratic questioning as I endeavoured to break down her defences and expose how little she really knew. But most of all, parents, thank you for your foresight. For looking at St Catherine’s, and knowing what it would become to each of us, one day.

2015 has been spent occupying our new building. Assigning memories to the classrooms, wearing in the carpets and desks, battling with the Library for control over the central heating, making it ‘ours’. Now, our stories are as much a part of its build as the glass and brick. In 10, 20, 30 years’ time girls will walk through the halls and feel these memories, as we do when we step into the Boarding House or the winter garden. Some day soon, we will come back and look at that desk, or through that window and feel the presence of our friends at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen and eighteen. We will remember that life-changing conversation, or teacher and how empowered and loved we felt here.

I am so honoured that the first story the building knew, was the narrative of 2015. A year of indescribable success. A time when St Catherine’s was more than a close-knit community, we were truly a team. The awards presented tonight are a testament to the guts and tenacity of our girls.

Their capacity to extinguish fear with hard work and modesty.

Their burning ambition to do more, learn more, be more.

St Catherine’s is not just close or small – we are an amalgam of opinion, ferocity and passion. But most of all, we are strong. We are strong in our self-perception and in our awareness of others, strong in our capacity to love and be loved.

I have come to realise that life has a funny way of moving forward. It does not ask whether you are ready or willing to leave, it just compels you on. And today, life is carrying me kicking and screaming out that door. But when you are a fully grown eighteen year old who accidentally calls her teachers ‘mum’ on more than a weekly basis, it is probably time to keep moving.

So parents, teachers and friends we are leaving today, not because we particularly want to, but because, to paraphrase the American Novelist, Jack Kerouac, St Catherine’s has left us with “nowhere to go, but everywhere.”