The following letter is adapted from remarks at today’s Middle School meeting in Eliot Chapel.
Back on August 15, when we were all first gathered together in this uplifting community space, I spent a little time speaking to you about two words of great importance to us at MICDS this school year. I would certainly understand if you don’t remember them exactly. That was 171 days ago, if you can believe it! (Doesn’t time always seem to pass us by so quickly when we stop to reckon it?) In any case, I will remind you of those two words if you happen to have forgotten them. They are “listen” and “love,” and I have reflected on both of them frequently since that opening day of the school year.
Now that I have jogged your memory, you might recall my observation that day that one of these words is very easy to say, and one of them is very hard to say. Which one is which, I wonder? I think you know. Maybe it’s easier than usual to say “love” in February, though, which—as Mr. Roberts and Ms. Walsh reminded me as I prepared to speak to you today—is kind of “the month of love” since Valentine’s Day is right in the middle of it. Just don’t tell that to Punxsutawney Phil, or any other large rodents who might happen to cross your path. I think February must be the Month of Shadows as far as groundhogs are concerned.
At this time of year, I would frankly rather take my cues from my friendly dog, Nelson, than Punxsutawney Phil. By the way, Nelson wanted me to tell you that he said “hello” today.
He also wanted you to know that he’s very hungry—but he’s always very hungry, so I wouldn’t pay too much attention to that.
One of the behaviors that dogs have to teach us, I think, is that of intentional vulnerability. A dog that trusts you will roll on its back and expose its undefended belly. I realize that an animal behavior expert would likely observe that this is a gesture of submission, but I would suggest that it is also a kind of canine Valentine—a way of saying “I love you” by saying, “I am vulnerable for you. Look how vulnerable I am being for you.”
When I spoke to you about “listen” and “love” back in August—and I really don’t expect you to remember this part—I quoted an Italian novelist and poet named Cesare Pavese who once recorded these words in his diary: “You will be loved the day when you will be able to show your weakness without the other person using it to assert his strength.”
I would ask you to consider Pavese’s claim as a working definition of love. We have all experienced moments of weakness or perceived weakness relative to the strengths or perceived strengths of other people, even if it’s only strength in numbers—how it feels to be the only bald person in a room full of people with hair (I wonder what that must be like?), or a girl in a room full of boys, an athlete in a room full of people who don’t seem to be interested in athletics, a Black person in a room full of White people, a young student in a room full of older students, an artist in a room full of people who don’t seem to be interested in art, a Muslim person in a room full of non-Muslim people, a student who is not confident in math in a room full of confident math students, a shorter person in a room full of taller people. These are only a few examples of situations like those that I know each one of you has experienced—perhaps experienced on many, many occasions—throughout your life.
The courage to walk into and to be in that room, to “show your weakness,” is half of Pavese’s definition of love. The other half is to be in that room already and not to “assert your strength.” I know that each one of you has experienced this, too—the awareness of a kind of power at your disposal to embarrass or humiliate another person for their “weakness,” for their difference. The room itself doesn’t matter—a classroom, the lunchroom, an online chat room. The necessary conditions of love are the same: the courage of the “weak” to be in the room of the “strong,” and the courage of the “strong” to welcome them there. As Nelson would tell us if he could speak, “I have rolled over on my back for you. Therefore I love you. You are taking time to scratch my belly. Therefore you love me.”
My message to you 172 calendar days into this school year is the same as it was on our first day together, with a little bit of canine wisdom sprinkled in for good measure. MICDS must be a community where you can show your weakness without the other person using it to assert their strength. Where we are weak, we must be courageous. Where we are strong, we must be welcoming. We must be a community of listening and love.
Always reason, always compassion, always courage. My best wishes to you and your families for a happy early “Valentine’s month” weekend. Take heart! Punxsutawney Phil announced this morning that spring will be coming early this year. Here’s to hoping it won’t be long.
Jay Rainey
Head of School
This week’s addition to the “Refrains for Rams” playlist: I and Love and You by The Avett Brothers from their 2009 album of the same name (Apple Music / Spotify)