Dear Boundless Families and Caregivers:
Getting busted at yesterday’s WORDLE challenge, the morning didn’t start well.
At about 10:00am during “recess”, Quiche and Samuel Jackson popped into the office holding a football. They sheepishly asked Mary-Lynn,
“Can Steven come out and play?”
I hadn’t had a better offer all year.
I emerged into twelve-degree sunshine, beheld a 600-acre classroom quickly turning to mud, students strewn about the land in various states of ecstasy and remembering that, indeed, there is still a star nearby called the sun.
Seb is outside in a neon pink T-shirt as if to mock the star for being such a stranger. Katie is tap-tapping a laptop on the sunny porch, her braces exposed by a grin as wide as the valley she resides in. C., shockingly, takes off his tough-guy hat – he emerged from the womb wearing it – and keeps touching his gold-plated cross, subconsciously thanking God for the gift of warmth.
Seb and Izzy are beaming. Seb refers to Izzy as her “auntie”.
I see Jimmy, the guy who was supposed to be teaching this morning, with slumped shoulders, surrendering to the inevitable. Just how would he get these kids focussed again? He probably didn’t.
Tossing the football, I realize that Samuel Jackson is a lefty. I call him a witch. He boasts about being a grade 7 quarterback that took his team to the finals. That kid does have an arm. He then makes some reference to me being old and feeble. The whole moment was glorious.
But the real fun was later that afternoon when they returned to the Ranch lounge, after a day they probably lost their battles with their own attention spans.
People are just beginning to congregate, and I notice some reference to St. Patrick’s day on the white board.
I wondered out loud, “Does anyone know anything about St. Patrick?”
Christina, a Boundless teacher that your kids adore, chimes in with a 90 second dissertation on anything you’d ever want to know about St. Paddy’s Day.
I call her a human Wikipedia. The kids giggle, and sidle up even closer to each other. Things started feeling like being in a neighbourhood coffee shop.
Tom-Tom, clearly not an Irish Catholic, perks up and says,
“It’s probably like Halloween and Christmas, commoditized (my term).”
I make eye contact with this little Marxist, and high-five him. Cynical people make life so much more interesting.
M. saunters in wearing pure purple. Samuel Jackson and Maise are playing chess. Malcolm is watching intently, boasting, egoless, about how bad he is at the game. This is not self-deprecation. There is a chess hierarchy at Boundless, and he knows his place. With this attitude, I have little doubt he shall rise in the ranks.
Ewe asked me, in a voice so cute it was disarming – for he did not wish to put me out – if I would write him a reference letter.
Parents and caregivers, you must know I am mischievous to the core, so I received this question as low hanging fruit.
“Let me see, hmmm, how’s this Ewe?”
Dear Prospective Employer:
Ewe has asked me for a letter of support and I write this grudgingly. Ewe, you see, is my least favourite student. I urge great caution. He desperately needs a haircut.”
Ewe is tickled and Samuel Jackson is positively jealous.
“Hey, I thought I was your least favourite student.”
I reassure him that he is my second least favourite student.
Seeming satisfied, Katie contributes by stating a clear and unequivocal goal.
“I am going to work at a resort this summer”.
I wish her well and offer to write a letter of support. She politely declines and says, “I’ll stick with Kevin”.
The coffee shop without the coffee concludes with an appeal for dinnertime. Sap and Quiche ignored this and quickly showed me their program plan. Both have been selected to lead the outdoor camping event next week.
I am awed. There are logistics. Many logistics.
I add this to the list of words I have entrusted Quiche to use forever. The first is “ambivalence”, the second is “rectitude” and now, “logistics”.
That young lad, and every last one of your adorable and amazing kids, are having the time of their lives up here. It is they, not the sunshine, that illuminate this world.