In The Middle Of An Ordinary Day
Appreciating the moments of joy, growth, and perseverance that make an ordinary school day anything but ordinary.
Recently, I leaned toward a colleague and whispered, “Can you believe this is the middle of a school day?” We were sitting in the theater during an open block watching the Acting Class perform Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind. And truthfully, I have found myself saying that same line many times over the past few months.
I have said it while watching students play games on Nazro Green during lunch, while listening to spirited debates about concepts in physics (yes, debating physics!), and while hearing announcements in Chapel about blood drives and fundraising efforts. In the middle of an ordinary weekday, there are these extraordinary moments. And we get to witness them all.
One of my greatest joys is watching my physics students immerse themselves in a project, setting up an experiment, gathering data, working through calculations, and then testing their predictions. Their excitement when perseverance pays off, often after a few missteps and recalculations, is contagious. The joy that comes from hard work, curiosity, and discovery is something truly special.
I find deep fulfillment in teaching physics, coaching volleyball and golf, and walking alongside students throughout their high school years. My role here extends far beyond titles or job descriptions. This is my community, a place where I have the privilege of watching young people grow, falter, persevere, and ultimately flourish as Scholars, Athletes, Artists, and Servants.
When we returned to campus this fall, Nazro Green was dry and brown, a lawn in need of care and renewal. This spring, however, it has been lush and vibrant, filled with students enjoying sunny afternoons together. That transformation feels symbolic of what we witness each day in our students: growth that takes time, care, patience, and attention.
The doors of the Upper School Chapel are inscribed with a prayer:
O God, make the door of this house wide enough
to receive all who need human love and fellowship;
narrow enough to shut out all envy, pride, and strife.
Make its threshold smooth enough to be
no stumbling block to children, nor to straying feet,
but rugged and strong enough to turn back the tempter’s power.
O God, make the door of this house
the gateway to your eternal kingdom.
to receive all who need human love and fellowship;
narrow enough to shut out all envy, pride, and strife.
Make its threshold smooth enough to be
no stumbling block to children, nor to straying feet,
but rugged and strong enough to turn back the tempter’s power.
O God, make the door of this house
the gateway to your eternal kingdom.
As we reach the midpoint of second semester, I find these words worth repeating and reflecting upon. This prayer reminds me why I chose the vocation of teaching. Education is a calling, as well as a job. It is a vehicle through which we nurture the growth of young minds, bodies, and spirits. Each student we greet carries a unique story, one that calls for a kind ear, steady guidance, and a willingness to listen deeply.
As an Episcopalian, I believe we are not only entrusted with hearing those stories and greeting each person as a saint, but called to embrace every human being with dignity and grace. May our community continue to live out these words beyond the doors of our Chapel, beyond the edges of our campus, and into the wider world. May this spring bring joy, renewal, and hope to you and your families.
As an Episcopalian, I believe we are not only entrusted with hearing those stories and greeting each person as a saint, but called to embrace every human being with dignity and grace. May our community continue to live out these words beyond the doors of our Chapel, beyond the edges of our campus, and into the wider world. May this spring bring joy, renewal, and hope to you and your families.
