What keeps you busy now?
For eight years now, I have been head of school at a terrific, "Groton-like" independent school in Southern California, The Bishop's School, where eight hundred students in grades six through twelve keep me busy and smiling every day of the week. Bishop's is nearly as old as Groton, founded in 1909 with a similar purpose to educate students well, preparing them to be contributing citizens to the world at large. While the total enrollment is larger, our classes are small, like Groton's, usually held around a seminar table, and the relationships formed between teachers and their students, and between and among students, are similarly strong and enduring—and our hallmark.
As a head of school, most of my hobbies inevitably revolve around school activities, but I do still "go east" at vacation time, enjoying time with family and friends on the New England and Jersey shores.
What memorable highlight(s) would you like to share from your years since leaving Groton?
I came to Bishop’s directly from Groton and, while I miss my friends and colleagues from around the Circle, I do not at all miss the snow and ice!
Becoming head of my own school has led me to appreciate how complicated and textured school communities are, regardless of whether they serve day or boarding students and regardless of where they are located. I've learned that when you do school well, and take building a healthy school culture seriously, you recognize that all adolescents pass through similar trials and enjoy similar states of triumph and it takes hard work—on the part of your students and every adult who cares about them—to make and support that journey with all its twists and turns. For the head, this means that you must strive to be intentional about supporting each individual who is a part of your community. Sometimes that requires making a hard or unpopular decision, but more often it requires being exceedingly clear about and singularly focused on what the school's goals are and how you think the community can achieve those goals most effectively. To do that you gather as collaborative a team as you can of teachers and administrators, table any personal agendas, and throw yourselves into the work. I feel incredibly lucky to have the teachers and administrative teams I do here, helping me set goals worth achieving.
On the personal side, I have not yet learned to surf but living near the ocean is the greatest experience ever. While the Pacific is much colder than I realized before moving here, I try to take a swim most months of the year. And anytime a meeting or conversation becomes tenser than it should, my colleagues, friends, and I go for a walk on or by the beach, even if only for ten minutes, to remind ourselves how trivial most of our current challenges are and how truly beautiful—and inspiring—the world around us is.
Does one aspect of working at Groton stand out to you now? Why?
I will forever admire Groton’s unique attention to leadership, particularly as it is cultivated in students while living in the dorms, in settings like the Chapel, and through the prefect system. Schools that respect young people give them chances to lead: to be responsible for and to authentically care for other young people. A forum like Chapel where students can thoughtfully speak their minds, a dormitory setting where individuals must be responsible for one another, and vehicles like a prefect system give young people the space to develop and practice essential habits like self-reliance and discretion as well as a venue that supports taking risks and taking ownership of one’s actions. Groton’s unique form of leadership development is a worthy model for any contemporary school community.
Please share a favorite funny or memorable story from your time at Groton.
My favorite memories are from when I lived across from campus in the Peabody sister’s home on Farmers Row: first, having fabulous advisee feeds, which were always raucous, and squishing everyone, at once, in my tiny car to get all back in time for study hall. Then, each December I hosted what I understand is the now annual "Yankee Swap Holiday Cookie and Ornament Party" for the faculty and staff women of Groton. I met such amazing friends around the Circle and will always cherish how rewarding it was to live in close proximity to each other, really getting to know each other and each other’s families. I am forever grateful for those friendships and how, particularly at that holiday party, the "Big Yellow House" would literally shake with waves of laughter at the most absurd or garish or ridiculous ornament offered and seem to burst at the seams with the numbers of people packed in. I heard that guests started shopping in June for most awful ornament ever, and the ones I collected are still my favorites to display!
Is there one lesson learned while teaching/coaching at Groton that you’d like to share with our readers?
Whether you are a student or adult, never take for granted how special a small-scale boarding community is. What I really appreciate about Groton is how you can get to know and ultimately can come to trust each other through the sum total of seemingly insignificant, human moments that occur every day. Simply hanging out in the Dining Hall, at games or a feed, after Chapel or on the dorm at night; watching each other raise families and surmount personal challenge; seeing each other in various roles "24/7"—all create a fabric, and small, intimate, personal, and professional moments nurture a wider, pervasive sense of respect and knowing how a peer or colleague thinks. My experience at Groton convinced me that small boarding communities are unique in their ability to foster an authentic appreciation and empathy for the philosophical place from where each community member comes. Thus, regardless of whether the topic is broad, controversial, mundane, serious, or silly, the community can approach and tackle that topic with a sense of confidence in the sincerity of each person’s orientation and ultimate stance. At Groton, this understanding happens, not because it’s a particular agenda or a chapter on any course syllabus, but rather because it’s the product of time spent both formally and informally, always authentically, together.