Father meets Head of School

For years now I have championed our April recital week as one of the hidden gems of Berwick Academy. Whether in the theater or in the “smoldering ruins” of Chip Harding’s classroom, all of our students who participate in music lessons on campus are asked to put themselves out there and publicly display what they have learned. I have been through it enough times now, over a decade, to know that the quality of these events will always impress me. What never gets old, however, is seeing an unexpected student – someone pegged as an athlete, or someone who just took a trip to the Honor Committee, or even someone who is perceived to be introverted – find themselves out on these stages taking a risk.

I work as hard as I can to keep boundaries in place between my role as a father and my role as a Head of School. My kids have opinions, they have strengths, and they certainly have flaws. But this week I had one of my true dreams come true, and I have to thank Berwick Academy for making it possible. A few years ago, my oldest daughter, Kenna, heard Dad crooning away in his study on a song about walking through the streets of London, acknowledging the fate of human beings who had been ignored or forgotten. Kenna always loved the melody and would hum along – even as early as second grade. While she has been rocking on drum lessons for a few years with Mr. DeCato, this was her first year picking up a guitar with Mr. Harding. It became clear that one of her goals was to play Streets of London with me at her recital.

So it was remarkably sweet and moving just to know she wanted to do this, and I was committed to making sure it would happen in some fashion. But I never imagined she would be singing behind a microphone. Or offering input into the arrangement we should use. Or having the capacity to hold the song together on her own while Dad tried to pluck a twangy solo over her rhythm guitar work. She even learned how to get herself back on track when she got off from the form. So speaking purely as a Dad, I was pretty humbled by what the school had done for her.

I have lots of pictures taken of me in this role, and the people who try to do it know that smiling doesn’t come naturally, and I often seem to have my eyes closed. But the pictures that emerged from this moment captured a shared joy between a father and a daughter that had nothing to do with staging. It spoke to a little bit of amazement that the performance was actually happening but even more amazement about the performances yet to come.