Cluckingham Palace: How Livestock Became Our Best Recruitment Tool
Years before I ever got the chance to try it properly, I proposed bringing small animals into a school to support literacy and confidence — modelled on a scheme where children "owned" a rabbit, reading to it daily and caring for it at weekends. I was told, with total sincerity, that seagulls would eat the chickens. The idea was shelved.
I made myself a promise that day: if I ever became a Principal, I'd make it happen properly.
Eight years later, as Executive Principal of a large all-through school, I did exactly that. It started small — a handful of chickens, sponsored by a parent who ran the local golf club, kept in a run the children promptly named Cluckingham Palace. Within days, word had spread and a local farmer wanted in too. Ducks arrived. Then quail. Then bees. Eventually, aquaponics.
The educational case was straightforward: children who thought milk came from the supermarket learned where food actually comes from. Reluctant readers found their voice reading to an animal that couldn't judge them. Children with low self-esteem found a role — feeder, keeper, carer — that gave them ownership and responsibility. We built pizza ovens, grew vegetables, and ran a genuine farm-to-fork programme, funded almost entirely by food waste, grass cuttings and community sponsorship rather than the school budget.
What I hadn't anticipated was the commercial impact. Within two years, the school had its first waiting list. Prospective parents, touring the site, consistently asked about the animals before they asked about anything else. It became a genuine point of difference nobody else in the area could offer.
The lesson: teachers are trained to teach, not to run enterprises — and that's exactly why so much potential inside a school goes unnoticed. The most memorable, differentiating ideas rarely come from a strategy document. They come from someone willing to ask a slightly ridiculous question and follow it through.
Refuse Average. Lead the Way.
If you're sitting on unused space or an idea that sounds a bit mad, it might be your school's best asset. Get in touch.