We’re incredibly proud of our alumni continuing to reach for the sun and who, in doing so, have become hugely successful in a wide range of fields. From Old Dragons playing for England like Maia Bouchier (OD 2012), and making life-saving apps like Michael Dent (OD 2002), to our Junior Old Dragons making a difference, such as Anya Katanyutanon (OD 2021) who presented her research findings at the World Conference on Public Health (WCPH).
From mountain summits to filmmaking, the latest feature in our Diversity of Dragons series comes from Olivia Maiden (OD 2015). Her journey to date shows how curiosity and persistence beat perfection, as she shares how progress happens one small step at a time, and failure is just the first move.
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When the Dragon invited me to contribute to this feature, I reread the insightful articles by the Old Dragons before me. Reflecting on my own time at the School, I remembered how, at age twelve, I thought success meant being a sports star, a lead actor, or the one with all the answers. That wasn’t me. I was the child quietly hoping Sports Day would be cancelled due to bad weather. Long jump was my event, an ironic choice for someone barely four feet tall, though at least it was tucked away from the main track.
I loved Drama. I wasn’t often cast as the lead, but I was always on stage whether as a Lost Boy in Peter Pan or a chorus girl in Bugsy Malone. Mr Murchie gave me every chance to try, to sing (loudly), to keep showing up. And what I lacked in lines, I made up for in enthusiasm. And volume. I sang in choir, on trips, in plays, and in the dorms, to the long-suffering patience of my dormmates. The opportunities were endless. I just didn’t always look like the obvious headline act. But I was curious. Relentlessly so. I always had a question. Why this? Why not that? What happens if we try it differently? I’m sure I tested the patience of more than one teacher, and yet no one ever told me to stop. My curiosity wasn’t shut down; it was encouraged.
By twelve, I’d already decided I would become: a barrister (I was told I was excellent at arguing), an astrophysicist, a West End star, and possibly the Prime Minister. The career aspiration changed weekly, but the ambition remained the same. Again, the Dragon didn’t roll its eyes at that ambition, it encouraged it. We were given permission to try, to fail (big!), and to stretch beyond what felt possible. It’s captured best in the motto: Arduus ad Solem , reach for the sun. Dangerous advice for a literal-minded thirteen-year-old. So, in my final year, I decided to climb Kilimanjaro. I had no athletic record suggesting this was wise. But if the School said reach for the sun, I assumed it must be possible. I didn’t make it. Altitude sickness turned me back just short of the summit.
For years, that “failure” lived in my head as proof that perhaps I’d taken the motto too seriously. And yet the Dragon had already taught me something more useful. My headmaster at the Dragon, Mr Baugh, once told me, when I was paralysed by a swimming challenge, “Just one lap at a time.” At age eleven, it helped me get into the pool and face what felt impossible. As an adult, it’s how I now approach almost everything. There was also a classroom poster I remember defining FAIL as “First Attempt in Learning.” I remember thinking it was slightly cheesy at the time. Annoyingly, it turns out it was right. Failure doesn’t disqualify you. It prepares you. So, in 2024, ten years after my first attempt, I went back and summited Kilimanjaro, taking the advice of both Mr Baugh and the mountain guides: Pole, Pole. Slowly. Step by step. Which, as it turns out, is how most worthwhile things are built.
After leaving the Dragon, I went into acting, fascinated by perspective and what happens when you view the world in someone else’s shoes. But I soon became just as interested in how those stories came to exist. The machinery and scaffolding behind them. How an idea becomes a script, how a script gathers a team, and how a team turns something imagined into something we can watch on TV. So, at fourteen, I made my first short film and founded Dream Hive Films. Writing and producing felt inevitable. Building stories from the ground up and creating work that might move someone or change how they see the world. Over the past decade, I’ve produced films that have screened internationally, and worked with companies and commissioners including Sleepwalker Studios, Rogan Productions and UK Jewish Film.
I’m now graduating with an MFA in Producing at the NFTS, developing high-end television drama including a six-part series inspired by the life of Victorian reformer Josephine Butler, and a contemporary crime drama set in a seemingly ordinary Welsh commuter village. Producing is not a straight line. Scripts stall. Funding disappears. Projects fall apart. You hear “no” far more than “yes”, and the job is to keep going anyway. To find another route (finally, a productive use for my stubbornness). The work is slow. It’s rarely glamorous. It can be uncomfortable. But when something finally comes to life, it’s deeply rewarding and worth every step. In many ways, it is a lot like climbing a mountain. And as I was once told as a child, the best way to face the impossible is one lap at a time. So, if there’s one thing I could offer to current Dragons, it’s that you don’t have to look like the obvious success story. You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just must keep going. Reach for the sun. And don’t be surprised if it takes a few attempts!
Olivia Maiden (OD 2015)
Let us know what you’ve been up to since your Dragon Days, we’d love to share your story.
