What made KDVP great was never in a syllabus

King David Victory Park (KDVP) – a home I have known my entire life. I grew up there, not just in age, but in every way that matters. And now, knowing that there are only a few months left, the memories engulf me like a tide. The smell of sloppy joes wafting out of the tuckshop at break; hearing the hum of the audience as I waited backstage before a school play; sitting on the grass at break in a circle building friendships; history lessons that shaped the way I saw the world. English classes that ignited my passion for writing.

Since hearing the news, I’ve become acutely aware of how deeply KDVP shaped me. Standing in shul last night, quietly reciting the Amidah, I realised it was here that I first learned those words, their rhythm stitched into me before I was even old enough to understand their full meaning. When I sewed a button back onto my son’s King David uniform, my hands moved automatically, a skill I learned in a KDVP home economics classroom. When I teach a singing lesson, I remember how I first found my voice as Queen Esther in the Purim play in Grade 1, and how the thrill of playing a lead in the high school productions set me on the path to the career I love today. The values I try to instil in my children – kindness, resilience, curiosity, pride in our Jewish heritage – are the same ones I carry in my own life, all planted and nurtured within those school walls.

What made KDVP more than a school was never written in the syllabus. It was in the neshama that was threaded through each of us. In how we looked out for one another without thinking. In how Jewish values weren’t simply taught, but lived. In how we understood, even as children, that we were part of something bigger than ourselves.

The close of this chapter will not be a single moment, but a scattering of small, bittersweet finalities – the last sports day; the final Rosh Hashanah concert; the last time the hall lights dim after assembly; the final Hatikvah. The corridors that once pulsed with footsteps, laughter, and whispered secrets will fall silent. And then, one day, the gates of my special school will close. Forever.

But the truth is, KDVP will never truly be done. It lives on – in the people who were shaped within its walls; in the values that guide our lives; and in the essence of who we are.

And perhaps that’s the truest legacy of all: that even when a building falls silent, the lives it nurtured carry on. At King David schools, that spirit still thrives. The gates of Victory Park may close, but the doors to a Jewish education, community, and belonging remain wide open, ready to welcome our children into its embrace.

• Lorri Strauss is the drama teacher at King David Primary School Sandton.