Graduation Address
Jean Behnke, Acting Head of School
Trustees, families, faculty, friends, and especially, our graduates, we welcome you to this year’s graduation.
Change. It is happening all around us. It is happening to us. Sometimes it is easy to adjust to. Sometimes it is not. Sometimes we see it coming. Often we do not. This year illustrates how complex change and our response to change can be.
Some of us embrace change and charge boldly toward it. Others approach change cautiously. But regardless of how we approach it. Change comes, and we must respond.
Today I want to leave you with a few visual images to support you as you move into what will invariably be a time of great change. I want to begin by reminding you that you have all that you need to deal with change. Courage, honesty, kindness, fortitude, compassion, and perseverance are virtues you all know and practice. Add to that, the knowledge that you have acquired, and you have all that you need to face the challenges before you.
I am going to ask you to reach below your chair, and pull out the carton of water you will find. Twist the top, take a sip, and relax with us as we celebrate this moment of great change with you.
Set aside any anxiety that you have about your speech. As you enjoy your water, stay in this moment, and think about this…
When we become anxious, our metabolism speeds up. As a result, our mouths get dry. It is water that addresses that need. And we adjust. That little sip of water changed you. And yes, although you can’t see it, you have changed the level of the water.
When the temps drop and the winds pick up, it is the water that changes. Our vibrantly colored world becomes blanketed in white. It is at that point that we change. We slow down. We see the beauty around us. We listen to the silence.
Sometimes our routine changes because…the Head calls a snow day! We don our coats, hats and gloves, and we adjust. Our shoes grow spikes, our snowshoes tumble out the closet, and our skis and ice skates become our chosen mode of transportation. Some of us sail fearlessly down ski slopes and others spend the day snow plowing. Some of us skate boldly into the center of a pond to chase a hockey puck. Others skirt cautiously around the edges of the pond. But we change. We wobble, we adjust, we catch our balance, and then we adjust some more.
In the summer, as the temperature rises, we long for water. We reach for our water bottles, and we pack up for days at the beach. We drag out our boats and water skis. We gather our inner tubes and life vests. With our skis, we walk on the water.
On those really hot days, we enter the water. Some of us run straight into the icy water, gasping and screaming with joy. Others wade in slowly, adjusting inch by inch to the changing temps. With our lungs filled with air, we float on the water. Our sense of our own weight changes. We are buoyed by the water and not grounded by the land. Sometimes quickly, and sometimes slowly, our body temp changes and drops, and we adjust.
I have my own images of water and change.
When I was a few years older than you are, I went to Lake Tahoe with a friend. For those of you who have never been there, this lake, created by seismic change, is really, really deep and crystal blue. I was a strong and fearless swimmer so I plunged right in. Following my lead, my friend and I swam straight out into the lake instead of tracking along the shore as a wise person would do. After a smooth and joyful start to our swim, I saw him go under in the very deep water and pop back up, gasping. After a second drop into the water, he started waving frantically at me. I thought he was joking around, but he was not. I changed my course, and swam toward him. After some time, he relaxed under the crook of my arm, and I towed him to shore.
Sometimes we experience an internal change, and we need a friend to swim next to us, to support us, and to pull us to shore. Saving his life changed mine. Suddenly I was aware of the fragility of life. I learned just how brave I could be, and he learned how to ask for help. He and I both learned the power of trust. From this experience, I developed a healthy respect for deep water.
Years later, our family spent 10 days white water rafting down the Grand Canyon. When we could hear a rapid roaring from the distance, signaling a change ahead, our captain would pull the boat over and, if he could find a place for viewing, he would climb onto higher ground so that he could change our course. Then he would come around to check our life jackets… If he could slip a finger down the side, he would cinch it tighter. I could barely breathe between the constriction and the fear of the rapids.
Some of us rode in the front of the boat, bucking each rapid with enthusiasm. Others held fast in the back, afraid of the change we knew was coming but could not see. With my newfound healthy skepticism about water, I rode in the back. But I did it. I held on tightly, and I adjusted and rode through the changing waters.
Sometimes, as with the rapids, we can see change coming our way, but often we do not. But change comes nonetheless. And we must adjust and do it in our own way
And so I leave you with these thoughts about dealing with change:
Know that you are ready.
Know that you have all that you need.
Know that sometimes you will see change coming.
Sometimes it will be just around the next bend in the river.
Know that you have your own way of adjusting to change.
Knowing your style will help you to adjust.
Know that your style will change with time and experience.
Just the way water conforms to the shape of the bottle, just the way it adjusts to the temperature and becomes snow, hail, or a gentle rain, life continually changes us and requires us to change, to adapt, to adjust. Our response changes us and changes our world. So… Wade in slowly.
Or tuck yourself into a cannonball and holler as you sail in.
Jackknife off the high dive,
Stand in the shallow end,
Paddle upstream when you must,
Float downstream when you can,
Ride the rapids and trust that you will be fine.
Get a friend to tighten your life vest or swim next to you when you need some extra support.
Immerse yourself in the opportunities that will come your way.
You are ready.
You have the mind and heart to do it, and do it your own way.
Here’s to you and to change.
