Lately I’ve found myself relishing the simple joys of ordinary moments in school life: joining the 10th grade class at The Play That Goes Wrong; cheering the JV2 boys basketball team with my 2nd grade daughter who, like me, loves watching every single OES athletic team compete; taking a detour on my way to a meeting to watch the magic of PreK PE; or lingering in the Great Hall to catch part of the 5th grade play rehearsal or an Upper School acting class performing a creative rendition of The Wizard of Oz.

One of the gifts of school communities is their sheer humanity. The way schools are fundamentally about people: students and adults learning alongside one another, forming relationships, and encountering each other day after day in real and meaningful ways.

As adults, it’s increasingly easy to move through our days with minimal human contact: going home to catch the latest episode of The Pitt instead of meeting a friend, working from home or connecting through Zoom, opting for the self-checkout line, sending an email rather than walking down the hall to a colleague’s office. I notice how tempting it can be when I’m out in the world to slip in earbuds and retreat into an audiobook rather than strike up a conversation with the person sitting next to me.

Last weekend, at one of my daughter’s volleyball tournaments, there was no escaping a heavy dose of humanity. Hundreds of adults gathered to watch our children play or referee matches, learn their creative cheers, and collectively resist the siren call of overpriced açaí bowls from the vendors. During a lull between games, instead of defaulting to my audiobook, I sat down next to a parent from another team and introduced myself.

Over the next hour, we covered remarkable ground: the best breakfast stops in Sandy, Oregon, (FYI - try the breakfast burritos at the Shell station), her work as a learning specialist in a big public school and mine as an independent-school administrator, my childhood spent moving between four East Coast states, and the doctorate she’s pursuing in educational leadership. By the end of the conversation, I had summarized the book I’m currently reading, Mary Roach’s Gulp, on the human digestive system, and she had patiently explained how club volleyball tournaments function - thus illuminating two inscrutable, equally complicated systems.
 
It struck me afterward that if last year was my year of reading, perhaps this is my year of enhanced human interaction: Facetiming my best friend from high school during the Steelers game instead of just texting, choosing the line with a cashier and fully answering what I plan on doing with the rest of my day, visiting an old friend in Nashville instead of just watching her children grow up on Instagram, talking to the person next to me rather than zoning out to the echo of whistles and volleyballs thumping against hardwood floors. 

In that spirit, I hope you might consider resisting the pull of pajamas and streaming services and join me at two upcoming community events. 

Tonight, come to the Athletic Center dressed in your best OES Green to cheer on our basketball teams as they compete against our favorite rivals, Catlin Gabel. Games start at 4:30, 6:00, and 7:30 PM. 

And next week, join your fellow Upper and Middle School parents on Friday, February 6, at 7:00 p.m. at Portland Golf Club. There’s no formal program, just time to connect. Come share what you’ve been reading or watching lately, your favorite character from The Pitt (is it Dr. Robby or Charge Nurse Dana Evans?), or the expertise you’ve acquired thanks to your children’s latest passions.

Strong communities are built in these moments of showing up and being with one another. I’m grateful to be part of one with you, and I hope to see many of you tonight and next Friday.