Dear Friends of Boundless and Family Members of Students:
I offer up a few vignettes so you can be flys on the wall on a chilly day.
Our property has transformed into a 600 acre slush puddle. There is mourning over this. I overheard Macky, the group leader and vaunted keeper of the hockey rink, tell her sympathetic colleague, “My briny tears won’t flood the rink quickly enough.”
March is always a tumultuous month for weather and emotions and hopes and fears for the Boundless afterlife. Many are graduating in just a few weeks – a tear-jerking turnover for some of the bestest Boundless kids of all time. Moments of absurdity abound. Change is coming. Teenage audacity is amplified when you get close to the barn.
This plays out every year when, like clockwork, the kids offer up unsolicited wish-lists to make Boundless better. E and I were playing the ping pong championship of the world the other day when he randomly asked,
“How about a pool table? We should definitely get a pool table.”
“After you graduate,” I promised. He affected a charming whine, a skill honed in the Academy-of-How-to-Screw-with Adults.
Other kids piled on. “How about a dome over the basketball court?” said B.
I replied, “Just before the Raptors show up for their summer workouts,”
“Aw, c’mon.” D hissed. “We’re serious!”
Their requests just kept coming. Better towels. More hot water. An indoor swimming pool.
“A job driving the tractor”, said Jackson. “I am going to be the Jackson of all trades.” He then proceeded to rat out Mike, our Maintenance dude, who ” lets me take the wheel sometimes.”
They neglected to tell me that their favourite activity this session is playing indoor basketball. They concocted a net with a plastic shopping bag, sliced a corrugated box for a backboard, and forged a ball from duct tape.
I have never seen a better eight dollars spent. Huck Finn would be proud – this regression to the most basic survival strategies. Keep yourself busy. Engage in a few shenanigans. Take initiative to cure boredom.
I remember when E first publicly spoke to the rest of us 18 months ago. His right leg convulsed like a sewing machine on steroids. He meekly declared his mission to be, “Feeling good around people again. I also really need to finish school.”
Oh E, you became the life of our party. The epicentre of playfulness. The bright smile that comforted newcomers. Screw it, I am using his first name – Eres – so his parents can be assured that it is their son I am in awe of.
Thank you all for making these vignettes so impactful and so darn fun.
Sincerely,
Steven
