This is the season of gift-giving

When our children were in kindergarten and grade one, they were standing at the bus stop and my husband, Kevin, overheard this conversation:

Jacob – The kids at school are saying that Santa is not real.

Kathleen – What?

Jacob – The kids at school are saying that Santa is not real. It’s our parents.

Kathleen – Jacob, do you really think our parents fly all over the world on a sleigh, giving gifts to other kids?

And that was the end of it.  He was convinced, and we were humbled.  Our children just could not imagine that their parents could be that generous at gift-giving.

Since I have arrived, four months ago, I have seen that gift-giving happens at Lakefield College School.

For example, this week, we heard our first chapel talk.  There are two gifts embedded in this tradition. The first is that teenagers stand in front of 350+ people and express gratitude for their friends and family. I asked Niko to share his speech with me, as I am pretty sentimental about firsts, and he will forever be my first chapel speech as Head of School.  With his permission, I want to share a couple of sections of his chapel talk.

Niko said this:

Nanna, there is not one negative bone in your body; you are the most optimistic, happy, and joyful person in the world. I aspire to have those same characteristics, which at the moment I do not.

The second gift within our traditional chapel speeches is that students give advice to their peers.  Niko said this:

I’ve experienced more in my time here at Lakefield than in my entire life. Lakefield is what you make it to be, and that’s what makes it so special. Basketball has been a huge part my journey at Lakefield. Times when I’m stressed and I have a lot of work or when I just don’t feel like me, I’ll just go and shoot hoops and that will make me feel better or distract me from whatever is bothering me.  For the people that haven’t found that something, this is the perfect place to find it. Lakefield gives each of us an opportunity to find that thing.  We have the facilities, the community, and the resources to find that something that helps you. That is what makes Lakefield so special.

There is a real gift in every single chapel speech when teens express this kind of passion – and vulnerability! – in front of hundreds of others teens.  I can assure you – it is very powerful to sit in chapel in those moments, as our students listen.

There is also the gift of sharing talents.  Our Grove Society Christmas Gathering is a perfect example of how our community develops passions – we get to enjoy our orchestra, choirs, creative writing, and additional expressions of passions like global initiatives and environmental stewardship. We have had an incredible fall with our Remembrance Day ceremony and our Damn Yankees musical, which are two of the best performances in the country.  There is talent at Lakefield College School – and it is reciprocal. Our faculty teach our students to bring out the best in themselves; and I hear our faculty talk about how much they learn from our students.  Gift-giving is a gift that gives twice, and there is a lot of generosity in our community.

We are also blessed to be part of a broader community. Lakefield is not just a school with teachers, staff and students. The power of this place is that parents and alumni are also actively involved. When I look around at the decorations right now in chapel, and I can see the care that went in to every decision – the maple syrup, the skis, the snow shoes, and the terrapin (I am waiting for the honey bee to arrive).  We are fortunate to have a community that shares the responsibility of caring for and celebrating our students.

Finally, I want to leave you with a thought about the real power of gift-giving.

I believe that our staff are exceptional.  They work hard and long hours.  They are passionate about their subject and the art of teaching and learning. But there is something more. I felt it as a parent, when my children were here, particularly when they went through some tough times and their teachers, Heads of House and frankly all of the adults that surrounded them, supported them.

Nelson Mandela once said – It never hurts to see the good in someone. They often act the better because of it.

I believe our staff and teachers see the best in our students and go above and beyond to support them to be the best people they can be.

Now that I have lived here for four months, I have to say that I now better understand the expression that Lakefield College is a feeling. Some have called it Grovey and I think that is a perfect word because no one knows what it means. But there is a feeling here that is created because of the relationships between students and between students and staff. I also cannot define that feeling, but whatever it is, it is the gift of this school and being part of this community. And I am grateful to be a small part of it.

So in this season of gift-giving, may you give the gift of sharing your gratitude for others – and expressing it!

May you give the gift of sharing your talents.

May you give the incredible gift of listening to one another.

And, throughout this entire holiday season and beyond, may you give the gift of seeing the best in others.

Groceries and balloons

When Jacob left for boarding school in grade nine, he didn’t write or call for eight days and I just about lost it (Read Letter to my son at boarding school for details.) My daughter, Kathleen was 12 at the time and very sensitive to her Mom’s struggle. The first few family dinners were tough for me, and when she could sense that I was missing him, she would launch into a detailed story of her day with vigour and verve.   Eventually her sensitivity turned to teasing, which was exactly the humour I needed to push through my sadness. It was beautiful the way she really took care of me two years ago.

All this to say that she knew that when it was her turn to go away to boarding school, she could not ignore her mother. She knew that all summer, just the thought of her leaving would bring tears to my eyes, so she would have to do a better job of staying in touch than her brother did. I had high expectations – she is a lovely daughter and it helps that she is competitive with her brother, so I expected that she would find joy in going to boarding school and staying connected to her mother, at the very least, just to spite him.

You can see where this is going.

I heard nothing for three days. I must have checked my phone every five minutes, just in case. During that time, I got two photos from her housemaster (So smart to connect to parents in the early days!) and a call from Sarah Milligan, Lakefield’s Director of Enrolment Management. Because Sarah worked with me as our CAIS Boarding School Project Director, she knew I would be hungry for information about both kids, particularly my baby. We didn’t have much time to talk, but she managed to get in three quick stories about her “Kathleen sightings”. When I shared them that night with my husband, Kevin, he asked for them to be repeated. Clearly he, too, was starved for updates.

Finally, she texted to report that she got her new computer. When I asked how everything was going, she wrote: “It’s good!! My roommate is really nice and everyone is really friendly.” What a relief. Since then, her communication can be characterized by snippets. She does text almost every day, but it is either purely transactional (Did you cancel my kilt shipment) or entirely bland (Good!).

Here’s the worst. On Sunday morning, she texted that she and her roommate were going shopping. I was thrilled to hear from her and I jumped to conclusions that she was reaching out to engage me. I immediately wrote back for details and she wrote nothing. Later in the evening, I wrote again, asking about her day and evening. Just give me something! She eventually texted the most vague message ever: “We bought groceries and balloons.”

This was her first weekend away, and I am a desperate mother, starving for information. I miss her. Terribly. I even tell her that I miss her and I love her on a regular basis. And all I get is groceries and balloons?

As was the case when Jacob first left home, I need daily reminders that the decision to attend boarding school is about what is best for students, not parents. When I am missing them the most, I think back to some advice a friend once gave me: our job as parents is to give our children ‘roots and wings’ and the roots are definitely the easy part.

You want grit? Two simple words.

I want my kids to be resilient, and I have a new year’s strategy that I think will work. It is not based on research, but I am currently testing it, and I will share the results. It is not a strategy that parents should necessarily endorse whole-heartedly, but I hope they do, and I hope that some schools will also experiment with it in certain situations. I tested it two nights ago, and so far, I am convinced that I have the solution.

Here is the scenario. On Sunday morning, Jacob packed for his return to boarding school. I did all of his laundry the day before, and Kevin found all of his ski gear, but we didn’t do the usual scrutinizing of his packing as we were a bit preoccupied (We were also packing up after babysitting our two year old niece for three nights). The good news is that Jacob didn’t ask for help, and we were pleased with his initiative (another skill worthy of development in teens). To be honest, I didn’t even ask if he had everything; I was just happy that we were all out the door on time for a big family brunch.

So when the text came through that night at 9:05, when he was back in his room, I had a moment of motherhood guilt. He wrote: “So far I have forgotten my new pillow, face wash and winter boots.”

I couldn’t believe it. How could he not have his boots in January? I felt responsible. I also wanted to shake my head and judge us both, but mostly I worried for him (Note: it will be -31 in Lakefield today). I read his text to Kevin, and we agreed we would courier them the next day.

But then I had a pause. Professionally, I say that my job is to ask good questions. What if I did the same as a parent? Rather than jump to his rescue, what if I just asked questions? So I wrote the following: “Your winter boots?? What will you do?”

Now please do not judge me. I know a boy needs his boots. I was willing – still am! – to mail his boots to him. But how is he going to learn from his mistakes?

Every educational resource these days is asking that similar question; the trend is to call it grit. The latest – New Pedagogies for Deep Learning – is something I read over the holidays as background reading for our 2051 Project, and Fullan also identifies the need for schools to develop children with more grit. This is all good. Kids do need grit. I think Angela Duckworth said it first, then Paul Tough and Alfie Kohn were quick to agree, but noted that most current strategies – other than Carol Dweck’s mindset – aren’t working. So how do we teach grit? (And no, I don’t believe it is by letting kids freeze their feet, walking in snow.)

Here is my theory. If you want to teach grit? Follow these two simple words of advice. Now I could present complicated strategies for parents to pause and think of the bigger vision of what we want for our children. I could recommend that we reflect on our own critical learning moments in our lives and think about who solved the problem. (Research shows that we learn life’s most important lessons when our parents are not around (and I would hazard a guess that teachers weren’t involved either!)) So here it is, the two most powerful words of advice that parents can follow in 2015: back off.

So far, Jacob is proving me right. His reply made me realize that there’s hope for him.

Jacob: I have my suede boots but I might borrow.

Mom: Okay. You can survive without your pillow but you need boots. Let me know if I can help.

Jacob: Well I don’t think you can.

The next night I got this text from Jacob: “Played hockey today.”

I wanted to ask about boots… I am really curious to know what he is wearing!   But I also know that playing shinny is his favourite thing to do at Lakefield, and I was just so happy that he texted to share that with me. I have to assume that he made it to and from the rink with something on his feet, and he has figured it out just fine.

So my new year’s resolution for 2015? Back off.   This is new terrain for me; clearly, no room for cold feet along the way.

Parenting Milestone

It has happened.

On Monday, after a day sick in bed, I went in to the school to pick up my kids (Jacob is 13 and Kathleen is 11 and both are at Ridley College). As I walked in to the library, one of the nicest teachers ever, Mrs. Bradley, walked towards me and greeted me with a big and warm “Hello!” So I returned the greeting with an enthusiastic, “Hi!”

And that’s when it happened.

Behind her back, I saw Jacob, eyes glaring at me and motioning with his hands for me to ‘Keep it down’. And I saw Kathleen, also coming up behind Mrs. Bradley, pointing with irritation at her own hair, as if to say to me, ‘Mom, you forgot to fix your hair’.

Without meaning to, I was embarrassing my children.

Now I admit to embarrassing them in the past. Just a few weeks ago, we were all at Chapters buying books for our vacation, and I was off on my own browsing when I recognized the tune of the background music. It was the familiar opening beats to Dolly Parton’s ‘9 to 5’ and I found myself singing along:

     Tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen,

     Pour myself a cup of ambition.

I was really enjoying myself, actually, and was impressing myself for knowing all the words! Then my daughter came around the corner, and I quickly saw the look on her face – she was horrified. In the car, she came to life reliving the moment that she spotted her mother ‘actually singing’ at Chapters.

I get that she would find that embarrassing. But this time, at school, I wasn’t doing anything out of order. I was just being my normal self.

That night, I lay in bed thinking about how I felt about this. I thought about my Nana, who used to write letters to her kids’ teachers that my aunts still talk about. I thought about how I felt about my parents, when at Christmas, they sent me to school with gifts for the teachers that embarrassed me. I remember my teacher opening gifts of chocolates and mugs filled with candy – normal gifts – and then I had to hand over my gift in front of everyone. I was so embarrassed to give them a bottle of wine, even though my parents, both teachers, assured me that it was the best kind of gift. (And now guess what I give to my kids’ teachers?)

As a parent, I don’t want to try to embarrass my kids. But I also never want to compromise “being myself” not to embarrass them. In my opinion, likely the most important benefit of a strong and nurturing independent school culture is that it truly helps young people to KNOW and BE themselves…perhaps the most important of life long pursuits.

It is therefore more important for our children to observe us modeling authenticity of character – embarrassment warts and all! – than to change who we are to preserve their level of comfort in the company of their peers. After all, it is far more by our actions than our words that we support and ultimately give our children permission to be themselves.

So if it means that my frizzy hair is pulled back into a ponytail, or that I greet someone I really admire with enthusiasm, my kids are just going to have to live with it. As for singing Dolly Parton in public? I may try to avoid that in the future, for their sake and mine.