Dear Boundless Families:
Sure enough, I hear a pitter patter outside my office window. A chilly rain has begun, slated to continue on and off for 3 more days. This should prove interesting.
We wonder if the gods may be striking us down for our hubris. Looking suspiciously over each other’s shoulders, the teachers wonder if this exquisite zeitgeist could be this good, this soon? Are we counting our chickens?
Indeed, every kid has bought in – no exceptions. As I do my daily walkabout, I observe spontaneous jam sessions, pick-up games, group preening rituals and strange pubescent-cackled tones expressed as cheers.
The jocks and the nerds have married. And the honeymoon has begun.
The Freshmen left yesterday to Algonquin for a few nights – a primer to their whitewater trip down the Madawaska. They remind me of a clip I once saw once of sardines swimming together in perfect synchronous waves. They have bonded tight and anticipate each other. This has been engendered to some extent by the three girls in their group. These chicks are amazing people and have “elevated” – that word again – the moral code of the bruiser boys. When I see a grade 9 gal simply tossing a football with a grade 9 dude on the front lawn, absent the posturing or hormonal games – this suggests a precocious maturity on this team.
The Juniors leave for the Dumoine River tomorrow for 6 days, and have been training feverishly to prepare for their duel with the 58 rapids they will be encountering. Like their trip leader Aaron intuited on day 1, this group has an amazing connection with each other and is spirited and focused. Their credo is that of the Samurai – cause no shame; attack obstacles with discipline and calculation. There is one student on the autism spectrum in this group. Diminutive, courageous and utterly adorable, this young man has literally been adopted by his team. They won’t skip a beat without him, and regard themselves as incomplete unless he is happy. “Hey J., get over here and play some foosball!” or, “where’s J., he would love this”.
The seniors are using references to Greek history – especially Alexander the Great, to inspire them. Whitewater training to them means “conquering southern Greece”, a modest goal compared to their upcoming “invasion of Persia” on Day 6, their metaphor for the Dumoine and all its perils. There is a term I grew up with – being a “Mensch”. This is Yiddish for “human being”, someone who regards the needs of others, who delivers on promises, who shows up at funerals, pays his bills, handles responsibilities however challenging, and is polite and respectful. Well, kids in this group either showed up as mensches already, or have transformed from being a bad ass into one very quickly. They are a pleasure to hang out with, and I will join them on their day 10 on the Dumoine to share in their spoils of war.
The BOLD people look exhausted already. For 17-19 year old immortal flesh, which is essentially what they are – they have been running gangbusters since they arrived. They are braving rain on the middle channel of the Ottawa River as I write, being tested for whitewater certification. Tomorrow they head for the upper, upper Dumoine, and will paddle over 100 kms to its terminus at the Ottawa River. They won’t be back until lunchtime day 12 – so they are gonzo. Without embellishment, things are going so well with that team, their group feels like they are Boundless staff, not students. They glide over obstacles as if in a lovely lucid dream. But the price they pay is exhaustion. This is as it should be.
And there you have it. A tail wind has been blowing since the moment your kids arrived. I pray not to jinx it, or count hatchlings too early, but man, this session feels amazing.
Warmly,
Steven Gottlieb
