When I walked into the Upper School faculty meeting this
past Tuesday morning, I should not have been surprised by the sense of despair
in the room on the heels on a weekend that involved a horrific car crash of one
of their colleagues. After making a few comments about empathy and logistics
for the week, there were no questions. Ironically, when I visited Upper School
History teacher Lucy Pollard for the first time after her accident, I had
completely lost my voice. I told her it was appropriate, given that there were
no words to ease the reality of what had taken place.
That being said, I left the faculty meeting a bit early and
headed to assembly. Our students were already there. I am quite sure many of
them were despondent as well, and yet they were still adolescent kids –
chatting with each other after a long weekend, catching up on the latest news.
While I needed to make some sobering comments in assembly, by lunchtime there
was that familiar buzz in the Commons lunchroom. While I certainly know that
many of our students are also hurting, I see this as a moment when our adults
are quite literally drawing strength from our kids.
These are the moments when Berwick is at its best, as it
seemingly can wrap its own arms around itself and embrace all of us
simultaneously. The rhythm, routine, and positive sense of growth on this
Hilltop can cure many ills in this world. And while I am smart enough to know
that our collective sense of shock and loss will take some time to heal, I am
more confident then ever that we will get there. The mission of this school is
powerful, like an unspoken call to action that gradually pulls all of us back
into a sense of focus and growth. More than ever, I have noticed how your
children are such an essential part of that purposeful call. We simply could
not do it without them.
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