A few days ago, I was out on an early morning run along one of the local trails. Running through the woods, I found myself enjoying the extraordinary beauty around me – impressive Oak trees, the crunching sounds of small animals running amidst the trees, the vistas heading out towards Santa Cruz, the blue sky.
As often happens when I’m running, I was deep in thought, crafting in my mind an essay. The topic that resonated for me that day, perhaps not surprisingly given the surroundings and my state of mind, was the joy I feel at being part of the Hillbrook community. These first few wee
ks at school have been particularly joyful, as we have welcomed families new and old through a series of events and activities. From the opening flag when we launched into “Welcome to Hillbrook,” through the Kick-off breakfasts, and on through last Friday night’s incredibly successful Family Fun Night, it has been a whirlwind of activity bringing the community together to celebrate the opening of the school’s 80th year.
As I was running, I reflected on the joy and engagement I was seeing as I walked into classrooms around campus these first few weeks, the enthusiastic greetings I received from children eager to show me what they were doing – a new book they had just started to read, a self-portrait they were creating, academic and social goals they had set for themselves, a new iPad they had just pulled out of the box. I became even more excited as I thought about the extraordinary enthusiasm of our teachers that had been continually on display. I had seen countless examples of how teachers were intentionally and thoughtfully using these first weeks to build community within the grade levels, creating an environment that provided the sense of security and belonging that are essential in order to help each child reach their highest individual potential.
I thought to myself – I am so incredibly fortunate to be part of this school and this community.
And then, I swallowed a bug.
I immediately made that awkward, pinched, and slightly exasperated face you make when you realize that the bug has gone straight into your mouth and down your throat before you even can react. My joyful reverie broke. I gagged a bit, and realized that it was too hot, my legs were really tired, and I definitely needed a drink of water. I stopped writing the essay in my head and started focusing on my run. The next 20 minutes were challenging, but I made i
t to the end.
It was only later when I sat down to write this essay that I realized what a perfect metaphor the bug was for education and parenting. As parents and as educators, we are naturally drawn to the moments of joy that are part of raising children. Our Facebook pages are full of the happy times, those moments that sustain us and that, in the end, showcase the beauty of childhood and the extraordinary sense of satisfaction that we feel watching our children as they move along the pathway toward becoming confident, capable, independent, and thoughtful adults.
Less often discussed – but no less real – are the challenging moments, those evenings when our children break down into tears because of an argument they had with someone at school, or because someone said something mean to them, or because “no one” likes them, or because the homework is too hard and they are struggling in class. There are also the arguments they have with us, over cleaning up, bedtimes, technology use, or perceived or real injustices they feel about how they are being treated vis a vis a sibling or their friends. On top of this are those things outside school, life struggles that every family faces at some point – illness, for example – that impact our children in ways that are often hard to understand but that we know are real.
Put another way, we all have moments where we feel like we have swallowed a bug. They are inevitable. How we respond to those moments, however, is what ultimately defines us and our children.
When our children “swallow a bug,” it can be difficult to maintain our perspective. Our first instinct can be to try to solve their problems for them, to step in and make things better. We can sometimes become frustrated or angry ourselves, momentarily forgetting that swallowing a bug is simply a normal part of life. While Hillbrook is a joyful place to be a child, that does not change the fact that not every moment of school or childhood is joyful.
I am reminded of one of my favorite quotes that I have heard from several different parent education experts, “Our job is not to prepare the path for our child, but to prepare our child for the path.” Life will be full of moments of joy and moments of challenge, moments where we will be lost in reverie amidst the Oak trees and other moments where we will find ourselves gagging on a bug. As parents and educators, we serve children best when we recognize that both are an essential part of childhood and life, and that, in the end, we have done our job most successfully when we equip our children with the skills to manage these challenges on their own.
Content originally featured on ReMarks & Reflections, the official blog of Mark Silver, Hillbrook Head of School. See the post here.