Values of KDVP won’t crumble with building’s closure

For as long as I can remember, Victory Park has been more than just a suburb in Johannesburg, it has been my world. I’ve lived here my entire life. My roots in this community run deep.

My grandfather, Dr Carl Barrett, was a founding member of the primary school, and my other grandfather, Israel Katz, donated classrooms. My mother was among the earliest students to matriculate from King David Victory Park.

My husband’s family went through King David Victory Park, as well as my siblings and nieces.

My own story is intertwined with these streets. I remember meeting my friends on the corner before school, the chatter and laughter as we walked together in the mornings, and then again as we all made our way home in the afternoons. That simple daily ritual – walking to school, walking home from school – wasn’t just routine, it was a rhythm that bound us together. In fact, I literally married the boy next door. My husband, Russel, and I grew up living five houses away.

I’ve had three of my own sons go through the system. Our family history is woven into the very fabric of the school. That’s why the announcement from the South African Board of Jewish Education that our beloved Victory Park campus would close at the end of 2025 has felt like a deep cut to the heart. We are shattered.

The reality is plain: the demographics of Johannesburg have changed. Jewish families no longer settle in this part of the city in the same numbers. Slowly, our school has shrunk, and while many of us knew, deep down, that this day might come, the actual moment has still come as a shock. The Board made the choice to act decisively – to rip off the Band-Aid rather than draw the process out over 18 months, which might have left the school hollowed out in its final days. I understand its reasoning. But understanding doesn’t make it easier to say goodbye to the heartbeat of our community.

This news hit me hardest as a mother. My son is in Grade 11 now, set to be in matric next year. Instead of walking across the road to school, he will be catching a bus to King David Linksfield and facing a long commute home each day. No more getting out of bed at 07:20 to be at school by 07:40.

At first, I was crushed – heartbroken for the life and routine he would lose.

But then something shifted in me. I realised I needed to meet this moment with the same strength I hope to see in him. I have decided to stand firmly beside him, to celebrate this transition, and to focus on the opportunities it will bring. King David Linksfield is a bigger campus, with more students, more activities, and a different energy, and I believe his matric year can still be special.

And yet, this is about more than one school. As Jews, we know we are living in a world where antisemitism is rising, and unity has never been more vital. We must remember the pillars of Judaism and the pillars of what King David Victory Park stands for – living with honesty, integrity, and tolerance – and, perhaps most importantly, being respectful of one another, even in times of difficulty or disagreement. Now is not the time to fracture; it’s the time to stand shoulder to shoulder, to hold our community together with kindness, dignity, and purpose.

This unity isn’t just about our schools, it’s also about our shuls. Our shul community in Victory Park must come together now more than ever, to ensure that we survive the challenges ahead and keep the flame alive. The northwest Jewish community’s flame must still burn brightly here. Even without the school building, Victory Park can and must remain a place of Jewish life, Jewish learning, and Jewish spirit.

Victory Park has given generations of us a place “where everybody knows your name”. That spirit doesn’t vanish with the closure of a building. It lives in the friendships, the memories, the shared heritage, and the way we continue to show up for one another.

I will grieve for what we are losing, but I also hold hope for what’s ahead – for my son, for our schools, for our shuls, and for the Jewish community as a whole. And I believe that if we face these changes together with unity and resilience, we will still have much to be proud of in the years to come.

• Andy Koton is a preschool teacher at Sydenham Hebrew Nursery School. She is married to Russel and they have three sons.