"People think focus means saying yes to the thing you’ve got to focus on. But that’s not what it means at all. It means saying no to the hundred other good ideas that there are. You have to pick carefully."
-Steve Jobs
This slide deck is an excellent overview of the headwinds that Independent Schools are facing nationwide. This was presented by Dr. Marc Frankel to an ADVIS meeting in April. It is very sobering and thought provoking.
We need to incorporate some of these realities into our strategic planning here at KWS.
I have been meaning to post something on the untimely passing of Lynn. 13 years long years ago she was our first introduction into KWS and the Waldorf way. Both Aaron and Jonathan were in Lynn's magical kindergarten class and she ushered us in to this school in her own quiet, strong, committed and confident way.
I remember how she immediately understood Aaron and what he needed at that time. We had just moved to this area and Aaron felt totally uprooted from friends and familiar places. He was much more affected by this move than we had expected and the way that he coped was to keep his distance from "the group". I think he spent most of the first few months in class standing nearly by himself. Lynn's innate understanding and nurturing soul gave Aaron the space and time he needed to be come acclimated to his new world. I think that her gentle approach greatly helped Aaron and we have been forever grateful to her for this gift.
We went to Lynn's funeral at Rose Hall on Saturday. There was a wonderfully large turnout - the space was filled. The service was filled with beautiful music, a touching re-telling of the significant milestones in her life and a warm feeling that this is the way we should be honoring Lynn.
For those of you who could not attend the funeral, I thought I would reproduce a passage that was in the booklet that was handed out at the funeral. It seems "so Lynn".
MESSENGER
My Work is Loving the World.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird - equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect?
Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my Work, which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all of the ingredients are here.
Which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is that we will live forever.
-Mary Oliver
I have always thought that the very best Sensei are the ones who view themselves more as sculptors than as, say, painters. A painter may add and add for the most part until he gets it right. A sculptor unveils what was hidden. My best teachers were the ones who connected with me, who cared about me, and brought out the best that was within me. Those are the teachers I remember the most.
This isn't as directly Board-related, but I wanted to share it anyway, because I feel it's a measure of how we're doing.
My youngest, like many children in coal-powered Pennsylvania, has asthma. There's been some illness going around recently, and sometimes all it takes is a little head cold to trigger an attack. Last night, he woke up in the middle of the night coughing, sweaty and whimpering. We prepared and started a nebulizer treatment, and he slipped his finger into the pulse-ox held before him, which measures his blood oxygen levels. His reading wasn't great, but improved as the treatment opened things back up and settled down his cough. Looked like we wouldn't need a trip to the emergency room, thankfully.
We finished the treatment, got him back to bed, and hoped it'd be a quiet rest of the night. In the morning, he certainly wasn't 100%, but he was looking and acting a lot better, even with a bit of cough still present. Which gets us to the point of this post. When our second grader was told that he would need to stay home from school today, he threw a fit. He whined, cajoled, threatened, and otherwise spent 45 minutes being a complete nuisance, trying to convince us to send him to school on a cold, damp day, one that certainly wouldn't help his asthma in the least. Once I drove off to take our 8th grader to school, he realized that he'd lost the battle, he accepted defeat, and was fine. By the time I got back, you'd never have known there'd been a fight at all.
But that fight was a gift: there's no questioning that our son loves going to school at Kimberton.
Here's this month's board agenda. Sorry it is so late, there were many last minute changes.