As a foot of heavy, wet snow falls on campus today, our dreams of cleared fields and tennis courts for spring sports are delayed for another few weeks. Spring snow storms are a reminder that our vision of how life “should be” and how life “is” are not always aligned. We need to become more comfortable living in this gap, of finding purpose, meaning, and connection in our here and now, rather than wishing we existed in an idealized version of reality.
Dear Future Hornet,
You just received an email from our Admissions Office sharing that you were accepted to Proctor for the 2023-2024 school. You will make up an incoming class that is one of the most talented, diverse, curious, and fun groups of students we could imagine. You found Proctor because you and your family believe that there is more to high school than a traditional classroom, and you see Proctor as the place where you want to “do” school differently.
“Tank. Tank. Tank." The loud sounds of “tanking, clanking and rattling” of the old steam pipes hissing down in the basement of Maxwell Savage punctures the serenity between the “tick, tap, ticking” of our collective keyboards. Four boys and I are serving early morning mandatory Sunday study hall on a blustery mid-February day.
Late last night, Head of School Brian Thomas announced that today would be Head’s Day, an unplanned, surprise day off from school commitments for students. Students get to sleep in, lounge around, go skiing, head to a local restaurant with faculty, or take their time with an extra long workout in the gym.
With temperatures plummeting well below zero over the next two days, we find ourselves in the heart of winter; academic classes, research papers, projects, athletic schedules, and musical rehearsals fill our days and minds. With four weeks until the end of the Winter Term, this stretch of the school year can feel especially challenging for all of us.
We write often about the importance of community, about how we each must play a role in stewarding this place so it is here for future generations. While we do not explicitly reference Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s notion of a Beloved Community, it is precisely that toward which we are striving at Proctor.
We are ‘educators’ by profession, but our responsibility to our students extends well beyond the walls of our classrooms. We serve as examples for our students: in the dining hall, in assembly, when we play with our own children, when we interact with our peers, and when we volunteer our time in the local community. Students arrive at Proctor having been shaped and molded by their own parents, and our role as a boarding school is to build upon the foundation their parents provided.