I was
eating lunch with a trustee yesterday unexpectedly after one of our scheduled meetings.
I had asked if she wanted to grab a bite at the Commons after our business was
done. Upon her enthusiastic acceptance of the invitation, I immediately began
apologizing: you know, we are going at
the busiest time….it might be pretty crazy in there... She reassured me by
saying how much she wished she could go back to school, mentioning that she
loved the energy of a full dining hall -with all of the conversation about
ideas and plans. School always made her feel alive.
With my disclaimer
about crowds having been given, I playfully queried whether or not we should
work on avoiding her teenage daughter on our lunch room adventure. Literally
within a few seconds of my completing the sentence, our trustee was embraced in
a mother/daughter bear hug in front of many friends. In fact, other students
came up to hug the trustee as well – sincerely excited that she was in the
dining hall for lunch that day. It
struck me that this kind of open exchange between mother and teenage daughter
might not be occurring in the lunch line of every school I know.
It is just
too easy to take this place for granted when one comes to work here every day.
As employees, we tend to focus on the challenges and the areas for improvement
with relentless effort and myopic attention. But when someone from the “outside”
joins us and experiences our student body – in all of its jubilant and adolescent
fervor – I am reminded of how lucky we are to have such willing and committed
kids here on the Hilltop.
I am sure
many readers today are aware that this has been a hard week in our Upper
School, where we lost both a former student and former parent in recent days.
The din of the lunchroom was contrasted by the incredibly appropriate yet
somber moment of silence we shared together as an Upper School to start our day
together. Perspective strikes me as so critical to our happiness in the long
run, and I am reminded today that our Berwick students are generally able to
see what matters most – relationships, empathy, and joy. It rubs off on me, and
it has rubbed off on my children. I can only hope that it has also rubbed off
on all of you.
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