Roughly 20% of Proctor's students live locally and make the commute to Proctor's campus each day. While these day students take part in evening study hall and extra help sessions, participate in all campus activities, and have access to all Proctor has to offer, incoming day students often feel apprehension about how they will balance being a day student at a boarding school. This year's Day Student Leaders, Margaret Fair '19 and Henry Bechok '19, share their perspectives and advice below on how to navigate the challenges and take full advantage of the opportunities of being a day student at Proctor.
If anyone knows Proctor is a perpetual work in progress, it is Proctor’s Maintenance Department who has spent their summer months managing construction projects, caring for our 2,500 acres of land, and chipping away at a never-ending work order list from Proctor’s 45 buildings. As we prepare for the school year ahead (new faculty begin meetings Monday morning), we must remember our physical plant is not the only piece of this community that requires constant maintenance.
August is upon us and that means the start of the school year is just around the corner! For boarding school students, normal start of year jitters are sometimes amplified by the unknown of living with a roommate for the first time. As we prepare to welcome 125 new students to campus, the vast majority of whom will be boarding students, we asked a few of our dorm leaders their thoughts on sharing their space with their roommate and the lessons they’ve learned from living away from home at boarding school.
The last ten days feels like a blur. A week ago I wrote a blog titled Ship, Shipmate, Self as we worked to process loss in our community, and while my intention is not to run an entire blog series on grief, it is important to continue the dialogue that too often gets swept under the rug following a tragedy like this.
“Grief is the price we pay for love, and when you feel the weight of the grief we are all feeling right now, you recognize just how much love lived in the one you are grieving.” These words were shared by Proctor’s counselor, Kara Kidder, during an informal gathering for faculty and staff Tuesday morning in the wake of longtime forestry faculty member Dave Pilla’s sudden passing. Just as Proctor’s Maintenance Department approaches the tireless clean up of downed trees from Tuesday night’s microburst that ripped through campus, the path to healing for our community will take time.
The soul of a school is less tied to a physical place than it is to those with whom you share experiences in that space. An aerial shot of Proctor’s campus from the 1960s represents a skeleton of the physical plant supporting Proctor’s 370 students today. But the soul of Proctor? The soul of a school does not live in buildings, it lives in those connections made in dormitories, on athletic teams, with advisors, teachers, coaches, dorm parents. Ask any alum who attended Reunion 2018 this weekend, whether from the Class of 1953 or the Class of 2013, and they will tell you unequivocally the soul of Proctor and its faculty and staff (past and present) is alive and well.
Stewarding a community like Proctor is never the task of an individual, but rather the responsibility of every person whose life has intersected the school. Whether you consider yourself an alum, a student, a parent, a faculty or staff member, a grandparent, or a parent of an alum, your stewardship of the Proctor community matters. Today’s celebration of the Class of 2018 at Proctor’s 170th Commencement was a reminder of how the collective work of everyone in the Proctor community, past and present, has shaped Proctor into the perfectly imperfect place it is today.
The role of parents within a boarding school community has changed dramatically over time. Until the 1970s, parents “sent” a child to an independent school, entrusting the educational, moral and spiritual development of their son or daughter to the masters. A report card documenting progress and disappointments arrived by mail at the end of a term.