As I reflected on the final day of the school year this week, I found myself looking back through photographs from the year. There were thousands, from musical and arts performances, sporting events, field trips, graduations, classrooms, forest learning, celebrations, and the seemingly countless everyday moments of learning.
The photograph accompanying this post is one that I took during our student Personal Development Week trip to the Himalayas.
What struck me was not the landscape or the remote location, extraordinary as they were. It was this moment: a group of students and local community members sitting together in a circle, listening to one another, learning from one another, and sharing stories.
Looking at this image, I am reminded that, more often than not, the most important things in life and in schools are surprisingly simple. We gather. We listen. We learn. We build connections across languages, cultures, and experiences. We come to understand one another a little more deeply.
As I reflected on the photograph, I also found myself thinking about Leonard Cohen’s song Anthem. It is a song I have returned to many times over the years because it captures something important to me about both life and community.
In the song, Cohen writes: “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
I have always appreciated that image. It reminds me that life rarely unfolds exactly as we imagine. Yet it is often through disappointment, loss, uncertainty, and struggle that we develop empathy, wisdom, resilience, and understanding.
The challenges we face do not simply test us. They also shape us.
Looking back on this school year, there have been many moments that remind me of that truth.
Later in the song, Cohen writes: “Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering.”
I have often returned to that line over the years. To me, these words are an invitation to stop waiting for perfect circumstances before contributing. Not to wait until we have all the answers or the perfect solution. Simply offer what we can, where we are, with what we have.
The bells become a metaphor for whatever remains available to us: our gifts, our voice, our compassion, our effort, our courage, and our ability to help.
Even when some bells are broken, others still ring.
Ring the bells that still can ring is a reminder that schools are not built on perfection. They are built on relationships, shared purpose, and people who continue to care for one another despite life’s inevitable challenges. Perhaps that is another way of saying that meaningful work and human connection emerge not from perfection, but from presence, commitment, and a willingness to contribute.
That feels particularly relevant in schools. We do not teach perfectly. We do not lead perfectly. We do not parent perfectly. Students do not learn perfectly. Schools do not operate perfectly. We are all works in progress.
Yet every day, people continue to show up. They care for one another. They solve problems. They celebrate successes. They support young people. They help build community.
That is ringing the bells that still can ring.
It does not say that everything is broken. Nor does it say that everything is fine. Instead, it says that while some things are difficult and some are imperfect, there is still important work to do and goodness to offer.
Looking back on this year, I have seen this repeatedly within our ISZL community.
The devastating tragedy in Crans-Montana brought profound loss and heartbreak to members of our community. Others have navigated or are still navigating personal challenges or concerns for family and friends living in places affected by conflict, uncertainty, and hardship.
And yet, people continued to show up for one another.
This year has also brought much to celebrate. Within our community, there have been births, marriages, personal milestones, achievements, new beginnings, and countless moments of connection, learning, care, and celebration. Together, they remind us of the richness of life and the many experiences that shape us as individuals and as a community.
Perhaps that is what communities are at their best. Not places where life is perfect. But places where people continue to gather, listen, learn, and care for one another despite life’s imperfections. Places where people continue to offer what they can. Places where the bells still ring.
As I look at that photograph from the Himalayas, I am reminded that hope is often found in simple moments: people sitting together, sharing stories, listening deeply, and recognising our common humanity.
As we transition into the July school break, let us hold all of these experiences in our hearts.
Let us choose action, hope, and contribution over resignation.
Let us give thanks for those who are with us, remember those who are no longer here, celebrate the joys we have shared, and keep in our thoughts those who continue to face difficult days.
And as we look toward the future, may we continue to ring the bells that still can ring.
With gratitude to the students, families, and colleagues of the International School of Zug and Luzern (#ISZL), whose stories, experiences, and acts of kindness continue to inspire these reflections and remind me every day what it means to ring the bells that still can ring.
If you are unfamiliar with Leonard Cohen’s Anthem, the live performance from London is recommended.