I was upset when I heard that King Solomon High School in Redbridge had cancelled a memorial evening for October 7. According to claims online, some parents of pupils among its sizeable Muslim population were unhappy about perceived pro-Israel bias. The chairman of governors denied that the school had received any complaints from parents but the event was pulled after consultations with the police and CST.

Like the Jewish community at large, King Solomon, which welcomes pupils of all faiths, has had to grapple with new challenges over the past, difficult year. But I hope the cancellation of the October 7 event was just a temporary blip. For I have always looked on this remarkable Jewish school, which I had the privilege to attend from 2013 to 2020, as a beacon of co-existence.

King Solomon was a place where diversity wasn’t just celebrated, it was woven into the very fabric of our education. Jewish students, like myself, sat side by side with Muslim, Christian, Hindu, and atheist classmates. Our teachers hailed from various backgrounds, too.

Together, we explored our shared humanity, learning from one another’s traditions and perspectives.

Ellie Grant on her first day at King Solomon, 2013

In our classrooms, discussions were lively and enlightening. We didn’t just study the Torah but also learnt about the Quran and the New Testament. We understood the similarities across the Abrahamic religions rather than focusing on the difference.

Our history lessons were not limited just to Jewish history; we explored the tapestry of world history, from the Crusades to modern revolutions.

The school calendar while determined by Jewish festivals such as Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur still supported students fasting for Ramadan and recognised Easter and Christmas. Each celebration was an opportunity to learn, appreciate and connect.

During my time at the school, I visited Israel in year 9 and Poland in Year 12 with a multi-faith group, where we explored the rich history of the Jewish religion and gained a deeper understanding of different cultures and perspectives.

These trips were not only educational but also fostered a sense of unity and respect among students from different backgrounds.

My closest friends were a diverse bunch. Some were Jewish, some Muslim, others Christian and others with no faith at all. Each of my friends came from entirely different backgrounds with some having parents who immigrated to the UK due to war. And hearing these stories were valuable lessons to understanding the wider world.

Our friendships transcended religious labels—we were simply friends, bound by shared school experiences and common ground. This is how life should be.

Of course, there were challenges. Like any child going through secondary school, it is not always smooth sailing. There were conflicts, but I can never say I experienced hate or prejudice because of my religion while I was there. It was something that was simply not tolerated at King Solomon.

Our differences didn’t divide us; they enriched our conversations and broadened our horizons.

I remained at King Solomon for sixth form and despite my final year being cut short to Covid, this meant I was not able to complete my A-Levels. But I left with one important lesson that helped me thrive at university.

That our multifaith Jewish school had prepared us for life beyond its walls. We were ready to engage with a diverse world, to cross gaps and to build bridges.

Our education wasn’t just about facts and figures; it was about compassion, understanding and respect.

That’s why, when I see people of my generation becoming so fixated on issues far from the UK, I reflect on my time at King Solomon School to remind myself that for all the world’s hate, peace is possible. I hope the school’s unique format can enlighten us that unity comes from embracing our differences, that kindness transcends religious boundaries, and that the world is a vibrant mosaic that needs to be celebrated, not abused.