Blog of Gratitude

On Sunday May 24, my family surprised me at dinner when they presented me with a book. My face was on the cover!

Who was the author?

More than one hundred people contributed to the book, which was divided into chapters: family, friends, colleagues, students, and alumni. Each person in the book wrote something about what my twenty-four years of teaching high school had meant to them. I was absolutely speechless in the face of this collection of words by most of the people I know in the world. I could do nothing except flip through the pages, the names and words blending together through my tears. 

I have spent hours opening the book and simply reading whatever happens to be on the page. Each is as meaningful as the next. In the face of the sadness and heartbreak over leaving SA, this experience, especially receiving this book, has allowed me to see how many meaningful relationships I have made over the past two decades. 

The letters run the gamut from hilariously funny, to serious, to very heartfelt expressions of sadness, but all of them have one thing in common – they are all beautiful. When I think that each of these people stopped their busy lives to sit down and write something to me (via Irma), I am truly humbled. I know this took a lot of effort from each person who wrote. I know Maddie Castro was a big part of rallying students to contribute. And then there is Irma… 

I remember when she stayed home with me after I had first left Sonoma Academy. She said she needed a break, but I know she was worried about me being by myself after such a disappointing experience. She was at the kitchen table for hours. She said she was doing spreadsheets or something, but now I realize she was collecting and formatting all the letters as they came in. She did this for days on end, and she continued even after she went back to work (reassured I was going to get through this). She added little touches here and there… flowers, pictures of my classroom (full of students and completely empty), and there is even a picture of the notorious Paleolithic painting of the shaman, which started all of this. 

For the past week she has had to endure excitement in the admin hall over the candidates for my replacement. To many, it means a new chapter in the humanities program, but to Irma it simply comes off as gloating. As the year winds down there are whispered plans to celebrate the careers of several who are finishing their time at SA… tributes being written, dinners arranged, and solicitations to pitch in for gifts. She often comes through the door with tears of rage in her eyes to find me weeping simultaneously on the sofa as I make my way through this beautiful book. I have finished it several times only to start over. I am so grateful to have so many caring, supportive individuals in my life starting with my wife, then my parents and children, my friends… and finally the hundreds of students I have taught who responded to Irma, Clara, Byron, and Maddie’s call. 

My departure has been a silent, private one. Irma and I have tried to celebrate my twenty four years in several ways… dinners… a camping trip. And then came the book with all the messages, also privately written in silence by the hundred or so contributors. This certainly wasn’t the way I ever imagined I would leave SA, but as I sit here writing this, intermittently glancing at the book filled with this beautiful writing, I have to say I just might prefer the book to an SA blanket and a handshake from the Head of School after all.