Endurance

Early last week, I had coffee with Jolly Urner, the former director of our Lower School. Lured from Northern California by Willis Stork in 1969, she didn’t retire from the Lower School for 30 years. Jolly arrived at my office with an array of papers to share: a couple of letters, a short biography, old copies of OakTree Times, and a note from a wayward “thief” who let his mark know that she “will find [her] wallet under one of the stones surrounding the flag. You will find everything intacked [sic] except the money.” The young lad was caught and learned that indeed crime does not pay. Jolly also left me with a book, "The Quotable Teacher," as she is clearing off her shelves for a move in the not-too-distant future.

As I sat down to write this blog, I opened her gift to this quote from Maya Angelou: “Children’s talent to endure stems from their ignorance of alternatives.“ Perfect. In its elegant simplicity, it captures an important lesson for all of us to hold close: We are all wired to endure. Recent fascinating work around grit and resilience echoes throughout many discussions in the world of education. The conclusions point to the necessity of allowing our students to wrestle with setbacks and even failure. As teachers and parents, we are often inclined to rescue or smooth the path, but while rooted in concern, these instincts actually undermine a child's opportunity to develop the courage and persistence to conquer life's challenges, educational and personal. One colleague recounted a conversation with a parent several years ago who wanted to make sure her daughter was never “disappointed” with an outcome. A college president challenged her university colleagues and an assemblage of independent school educators to stop producing “fragile thoroughbreds” who are not able to thrive because they do not know what it feels like to be uncomfortable or less than perfect.

As Jolly spoke about her life in education, I could hear a resounding faith in what her students had inside them. They would do more than merely endure as long as they were known, challenged, and supported with an unflagging recognition of their uniqueness and capacity to succeed. An “ignorance of alternatives” would serve them well as they learned to take responsibility for their learning and joy in their curiosity and wonder. I worry that our efforts to shelter our children stunt their ability to develop the tenacity they will need to solve the world’s most intransigent problems, let alone get through school. We do owe them our unequivocal love, particularly when they stumble, so they see in our eyes our pride in what they are and will become.

JWB