Transitions
Well......another school year has ended, and as the children like to exclaim, they are "officially" a sophomore and 8th grader. They are still 15 and 12 and just as I left them when they awoke this morning.
With each day and week and month and year, we grow and change. Even in this last week, since my last post, I have gained new insights and understanding. It is a time of reflections as friend's children graduate from high school or continue from 8th grade to high school. There is hesitation and excitement in the air. It is palpable.
In my last post, I spoke a bit about a transition that I am experiencing. I spoke about genuineness or rather the lack thereof. I attributed that lack of genuineness to whole organizations, and that is unfair. While I do feel that those at the helm shape the environment, and while an environment may not always be welcoming or friendly or genuine, it is ultimately the individuals that make the organization what it is. What I took away is the lack of genuineness from a few, while failing to recognize that the people I respect and care for are genuine.
At graduation yesterday, as volunteers were recognized and thanked, I was given a very genuine and respectful send off as I was personally recognized by the head of school for my 6-years of service. This felt genuine. I hate to say it, but I suppose my ego needed that. Why did the other gesture of gratitude feel so quick and impersonal, like a "just-because-we-have-to" shows of thanks?
It doesn't really matter because the people I do care about and respect will all still be there. I had really hoped I could make an impact at these places and I had hoped to be able to make true friendships and be a part of a community. I made true friendships, that's for sure. The community part I feel is missing, and that saddens me. It saddens me because I have to show up there for events, drop-off and pick-up my child 5 days a week for a whole school year and I have to be kind and genuine when others are not. In fact, most of the time I feel a genuine distaste for my presence. YUCKO!!! To be honest, because of this I count the days that my son will move on to another school, where he is just a number.
I don't like feeling and thinking that way.
I don't want my children to be just numbers. They are unique and wonderful and have so many amazing qualities that being "just a number" doesn't account for. And I am reminded of this each year when I attend a Watershed Graduation. What school (and I am sure there are some others out there) honors each graduate with a touching portrait and tribute to them? An educator paints a picture for everyone in the room as to who they have become as a person, the struggles and obstacles they have overcome to become the person that stands before us on graduation day. I cry every year, with every graduate, not because I know them personally, but because it is so beautiful and personal. My daughter will not receive such an honor with 400+ students in her graduating class. Yet, I want others to hear and know about what I already know of her; how unique and special she is. When in life do we receive such an honor, where someone speaks to us and others about what makes us uniquely human? I can only imagine a world where each individual is seen for who they are and honored for all that they are.
I want this for myself. I want this for my children. I want this for my friends and my family. I want people to be seen and heard for who they are as unique individuals.
This is what comes up for me when these transitions appear before me. I mourn the loss of this for myself, for my children, for my friends and family. I will miss my involvement and the people I have bonded with. I will miss the goals and deadlines, the intake of diverse opinions and knowledge. I will miss that we shared one common goal; to make the world a better place by believing and working for a mission that sparks wonder and creativity in our students to take on the world's greatest challenges.
I suppose this is about grief and not the institutions or the people.
Hmmmm.......OK. I am going to sit with that for awhile.
With each day and week and month and year, we grow and change. Even in this last week, since my last post, I have gained new insights and understanding. It is a time of reflections as friend's children graduate from high school or continue from 8th grade to high school. There is hesitation and excitement in the air. It is palpable.
In my last post, I spoke a bit about a transition that I am experiencing. I spoke about genuineness or rather the lack thereof. I attributed that lack of genuineness to whole organizations, and that is unfair. While I do feel that those at the helm shape the environment, and while an environment may not always be welcoming or friendly or genuine, it is ultimately the individuals that make the organization what it is. What I took away is the lack of genuineness from a few, while failing to recognize that the people I respect and care for are genuine.
At graduation yesterday, as volunteers were recognized and thanked, I was given a very genuine and respectful send off as I was personally recognized by the head of school for my 6-years of service. This felt genuine. I hate to say it, but I suppose my ego needed that. Why did the other gesture of gratitude feel so quick and impersonal, like a "just-because-we-have-to" shows of thanks?
It doesn't really matter because the people I do care about and respect will all still be there. I had really hoped I could make an impact at these places and I had hoped to be able to make true friendships and be a part of a community. I made true friendships, that's for sure. The community part I feel is missing, and that saddens me. It saddens me because I have to show up there for events, drop-off and pick-up my child 5 days a week for a whole school year and I have to be kind and genuine when others are not. In fact, most of the time I feel a genuine distaste for my presence. YUCKO!!! To be honest, because of this I count the days that my son will move on to another school, where he is just a number.
I don't like feeling and thinking that way.
I don't want my children to be just numbers. They are unique and wonderful and have so many amazing qualities that being "just a number" doesn't account for. And I am reminded of this each year when I attend a Watershed Graduation. What school (and I am sure there are some others out there) honors each graduate with a touching portrait and tribute to them? An educator paints a picture for everyone in the room as to who they have become as a person, the struggles and obstacles they have overcome to become the person that stands before us on graduation day. I cry every year, with every graduate, not because I know them personally, but because it is so beautiful and personal. My daughter will not receive such an honor with 400+ students in her graduating class. Yet, I want others to hear and know about what I already know of her; how unique and special she is. When in life do we receive such an honor, where someone speaks to us and others about what makes us uniquely human? I can only imagine a world where each individual is seen for who they are and honored for all that they are.
I want this for myself. I want this for my children. I want this for my friends and my family. I want people to be seen and heard for who they are as unique individuals.
This is what comes up for me when these transitions appear before me. I mourn the loss of this for myself, for my children, for my friends and family. I will miss my involvement and the people I have bonded with. I will miss the goals and deadlines, the intake of diverse opinions and knowledge. I will miss that we shared one common goal; to make the world a better place by believing and working for a mission that sparks wonder and creativity in our students to take on the world's greatest challenges.
I suppose this is about grief and not the institutions or the people.
Hmmmm.......OK. I am going to sit with that for awhile.
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