May Your Fears Always Have Names

Headmaster’s Routh Assembly Address
Monday 10th May 2021

Video recording of Routh Address 

Good morning. Some worrying news for you today, I’m afraid. At some stage this week, possibly as early as tomorrow, the United States is going to be invaded. By aliens. They are massing right now, as I speak. Trillions of them. Not millions, trillions. Preparing for an initial assault on 15 States, from Georgia to Washington, and targeting the capital, New York. Worryingly for America, there is absolutely no defence against these hordes.

Not that they haven’t had time to prepare though. When this massive army attacks in the next few days, it will not have been unforeseen. America’s top scientists have been predicting this alien arrival for nearly two decades. Seventeen years to be precise; that is how long they have been warning about the onslaught. Pinpointing the timing of the invasion to within a week. This week.

You should be afraid. Just like every Sci-Fi movie you have ever seen, these alien invaders are terrifying to behold. Large, bulbous red eyes on the outside of their head. Not one but two sets of jaws, like pincers, protruding from their face. They communicate with each other in a deafening high-pitched shriek that drives humans crazy. Waving six black spiny limbs, and wearing full-body exoskeleton armour. Yet once they land, they become shape-shifters, with the ability to change their appearance. Hideous. Scientists who are monitoring the advance have named them The Brood. Are you scared yet?

No need to be. Unlike all those Sci-Fi movies, these aliens won’t be descending from outer space. Instead, they will come pouring out of the ground. For they are just cicadas. Small, cricket-like insects that people sometimes mistake for locusts, because they appear in equally large numbers. Only cicadas do far less damage. They don’t destroy crops or wipe out forests or darken they sky.

The cicada grubs just sit around under the soil for 17 years, sucking on the sap of tree roots, before emerging for a few glorious days above ground. During which time they shed their outer shell, fly around a bit, make a lot of noise, find a mate, and then promptly die. But not before leaving a whole new generation of cicada grubs to live underground for the next 17 years. All a bit futile really. Noisy, but nothing to be worried about.

I am sure you weren’t actually frightened. Unless you have a fear of insects, in which case, I apologise. But reading that story last week did make me think about how easily we become fearful of the unknown. Understandably so, as our brains are hard-wired for it. Thousands of years of evolution have taught us that it is better to be cautious than curious. Our early ancestors who thought “Wow, look at that huge snarling animal with sharp teeth and claws – I wonder what would happen if I stroked it?” soon got taken out of the gene pool.

Hence, we get scared at the prospect of potentially hostile aliens. Until we discover they are just familiar cicadas. At which point, our anxieties die away, and our brain says, “Move on – nothing to fear here.”

John Marsden is a highly acclaimed Australian writer. Many of you will have read and perhaps even studied his most famous novel, “Tomorrow, When The War Began” which was later made into a feature film.

John is also a school principal, which is how I came to meet him and to get a signed copy of one of his books. Not one of his novels, actually just a short poem. A poem about John’s hopes for the age that you will live in. It is called “Prayer for the Twenty-First Century.” Only 24 lines long, deceptively simple – it even rhymes – but it contains some lovely phrases. It starts like this:


Prayer for the Twenty-First Century

May the road be free for the journey
May it lead where it promised it would
May the stars that gave ancient bearings
Be seen, still be understood.

May every aircraft fly safely,
May every traveller be found,
May sailors, in crossing the ocean
Not hear the cries of the drowned.

May gardens be wild, like jungles,
May nature never be tamed,
May dangers create of us heroes,
May fears always have names.


May fears always have names. That is a great line to reflect upon. Especially at the moment, when there is so much talk about fear amongst your generation. It is dressed up in different words these days, anxiety, worries, concerns, stress, even poor mental health. But the underlying theme is that you have become increasingly anxious and unsettled because of the pandemic.

I am sure, to a degree, that is true. This has been a massively disrupted year and some people cope better with uncertainty and change than others. I am equally sure that much of it is over-hyped by the media, who, let us face it, know that fear sells their product. If the human brain is wired to be anxious about the unknown, it will naturally try to do two things. Constantly scan the horizon for new, unfamiliar (and therefore potentially scary) things. And then seek to understand them, so they aren’t frightening any more.

Unfortunately, the media know that they can get your attention far more easily by presenting a fresh set of new things to worry about every time you log on, rather than by offering reassurances. It is easy to find a hundred stories today that predict the pandemic is going to ruin your lives. Journalists happy to claim (with very little evidence) that the lockdowns and School closures have left the world’s teenagers broken, lonely wrecks. That cancelled exams have most likely guaranteed that you are all going to be homeless, broke, and miserable by 30.

The pandemic has been calamitous for many people. Those who have lost loved ones, or who were severely ill themselves. Those who have lost jobs or income. Those who have struggled with isolation or loneliness. But it is all too easy, when you are constantly bombarded with stories of sadness for others, to start to catastrophise yourself. To get increasingly anxious without really questioning why.

So, if you do find yourself feeling agitated or uneasy at the moment, take the time to question exactly what it is that you are worried about. May your fears always have names.

Fifth Form and Upper Sixth, if you are stressed about the fact that your examinations have been replaced by School-based assessments, ask yourself “Why?” Give that fear a name. What is it, exactly, that scares you? The year not ending as expected? Doing poorly in a particular subject? Not getting into a chosen university? Narrow it down and name it and I promise it will be easier to deal with.

Lower Sixth, are you anxious about the news of a second chance to practice your exam technique in June? Be more specific with yourself. Name what it is that you fear. Doing worse? That can’t hurt you. It’s not the marks that matter this time, it’s the practice.

You were robbed of a crucial experience when your GCSE’s were cancelled last year. You are getting the gift of that experience back, before you have to face the real thing with your critical finals next year. Another practice run should not be some huge, unknown terror. It is just another go at what you did last week. Not a terrifying alien, just a mildly annoying but perfectly familiar cicada.

My point is that it is all too easy to lump all the things that challenge us into one huge mass of misery. Life can be challenging at times and there is no doubt the pandemic has added a few more burdens this past year. But the way to deal with those challenges is to call them out, one by one. To identify and then deal with them individually.

There are no faceless cyborgs invading America. Just perfectly familiar, if somewhat irritating, cicadas. Likewise, there little cause for anxiety over not knowing what a global pandemic might mean for you anymore. It is now just a series of smaller, more manageable irritations. Cancelled exams, annoying bubbles, too much time stuck at home. Name the things you fear and you immediately diminish them. Describe them and you start to control them.

Give your brain what it really wants – answers, not more questions. Good mental health is not living a life with no challenges. Good mental health is being able to deal with the challenges that life inevitably hands us. Turn your anxieties from aliens to cicadas, and you are halfway there.

Have a great week.