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I dreamed I stood in a studio

And watched two sculptors there,

The clay they used was a young child’s mind,

They fashioned it with care.

One was a teacher, the tools they used

Were books and music and art;

One a parent with a guiding heart.

Day after day the teacher toiled

With touch that was deft and sure,

While the parent labored by their side

And polished and smoothed it over.

When at last their task was done

They were proud of what they had wrought,

For the things they had moulded into the child

Could be neither sold nor bought.

And each agreed they would have failed If they had worked alone,

For behind the parent stood the school,

And behind the teacher,

the home. 

 

Richmond International School

 

Our Shared Role