Spring Break is now but a memory that I recall with great fondness. Although we did not go away, we took advantage of wonderful things to do and see here in Philadelphia: the Ben Franklin Exhibition at the Constitution Center, the Body Worlds Exhibition at the Franklin Institute, and the Wyeth Exhibition at the Art Museum.

In addition to affording us the time to visit these attractions, the vacation also helped me to put the growth of our children and the ever-changing role of parent into context. One of our kids was away for the week for the first time. While I was ecstatic for her to have the experience she was having, and found life much easier to manage with one less child, I must admit that I missed her immensely and realized that it was just the beginning of the separation that occurs as our children grow and become more independent and autonomous. Having gone through a similar experience with our oldest child, I managed to smile through the week. Of course, it is our goal to prepare our children for life on their own. This means preparing ourselves as well!

Not every step in this process is fun or easy. As a child leads us through the experiences of his/her age for the first time, we fight the urge to want his or her life to be perfect. For example, as children learn to walk, many of us have a natural tendency to do anything we can to prevent them from falling. Ironically, of course, it is only from falling that they develop the resilience to get back up, which is one of the most important attributes they can take through life. I found this first hand as I accompanied our oldest child to the registry to take his learner’s permit test. By the time, some two-plus hours after we arrived, he got to the front of the line to take the test, I found myself mystified by the incredible inefficiency of the registry. I decided that it was just part of the process, something to test us. (Of course, as inefficient as the registry was on that day, I am sure that some of my anxiety was created by the reality that we were moving to a whole new phase of life, one that neither my son nor I knew or understood.)

The anxiety that I felt at the registry paled in comparison to what I felt during our first session in the car a few days later. Knowing the importance of saying little, letting my son figure things out, and being supportive, I took him to a parking lot where he could practice some basics without any fear of a major accident. Here is where the conflict between theory and practice hit. Although I had rehearsed for this experience in my head, from the first moment he got into the driver’s seat and I got into the passenger seat, I could feel my tension level rise. Although I wanted to be quiet and helpful, I couldn’t help blurting things out about the direction of the driving wheel, the curb, etc. While I knew in my heart that it was important for him to figure these things out on his own, I could not control my conflicting desire for him to learn them from my experience. Of course that is not possible. As I applaud him for getting through that lesson, I realize that the stakes were not only going up for him, but for my wife and me also. Not only was it a new experience, it also was the first time that I had absolutely no control over what he was doing; he was moving into a stage in his life when the potential for greater independence and the issues that come with it were hitting me in the face. With each ensuing lesson he is developing more confidence, and I think I am doing better as I continue to come to grips with the process, while wishing I could protect him (and us) forever.

The driving experience reminded me of my recent annual reading of Ernest Hemingway’s, The Old Man and the Sea. Each time I read it I take something different from it. This time I had an extraordinarily special appreciation for the relationships that the old man (Santiago) had with both his young protégé and with the sea. It was clear that though few others, if any, had any confidence in the aging old man, the young boy continued to look at him with respect, admiration, and confidence.

Since Santiago was a person of few words, the relationship he had with the boy demonstrates once again that the things one does are much more important than what one says. (I wish I could have demonstrated the same tact and approach during the first driving lesson.) While all the people surrounding him believed that Santiago was living in the past, it’s clear that he retained the ability to dream and think about the future. While age put some physical limitations on his body, there was no limit on his vision or hope.

As we approach the closing weeks of the school year, we appreciate what our students have accomplished in different areas of life. You will see the signs of their accomplishments in the arts nights, the concerts, the games, and other areas. As we appreciate these signs, we must remember that they are but a snapshot of a particular moment and part of the process that, as we help our children to develop the skills and confidence to become the best students and people possible, will allow them and us to dream and hope.

As a School, we have our own snapshot, taken by Kevin Graham, of Lookout Management, who administered the surveys that we took last fall. He will be here on Wednesday, May 10 for our final Heads’ Forum (7:00 p.m. in the Avery Silverman Dining Room) and will discuss the outlook of our different constituencies as shown in the surveys. The snapshot that Kevin shares will help us to improve our ability to meet the needs of our students so that we can help them dream about and fulfill their future. I hope you can make it to Kevin’s presentation.

On Sunday, June 4th, from 5:00 to 7:00 pm, we will be hosting a reception honoring those who are retiring or moving on after a long tenure with us, including Pete Iannotta, Diana Robison, and Jamie Neilson. If you would like to attend, RSVP at our website, www.shipleyschool.org/events (click on June 4th Reception).

Enjoy the next few weeks of the spring. They will go very quickly.

Steven S. Piltch
Head of School