Partnership Educators,
When I was a child, summertime meant sitting in my home plum tree and eating the freshly ripened plums until my hands were purple with juice. How I loved eating those plums and laughing with my brother and the other neighborhood kids who would join us in gorging on the fruit. Summer was a time of outside play, trips to the lake, late-night fishing, and sleeping in the backyard under the stars. I am a huge summer person. I do accept that summer gives way to Autumn every year with the change in temperature and the colors that naturally surround us. But oh how I love summer.
Last Thursday, September 22, 2022, marked the official start of autumn or fall. As a child, I remember collecting the leaves that would drop from our trees. My house had lots of giant trees that allowed for very large piles of leaves for lots of fun activities. Enjoying the pure excitement of kicking up those piles of crisp, crunchy fallen leaves or jumping into those enormous beds of delicate wonderment, or just burying yourself until you could scare your mom as she came to look for you. I do love the sights and smells of Autumn, and yes I still love kicking up piles of crispy autumn leaves when possible. More recently, I love sitting in the backyard in the cool air with my wife talking about the day, or just enjoying the neighborhood sounds of kids playing on the streets. The stillness of a windless quiet dusk night calms the heart and gives peace to the mind.
Fall is a season of transition, a reminder of the value of change, in this case from bright, buzzing, verdant summer toward the quiet calm of winter. Last two weeks our district fifth graders made their way to camp and oh they had a great time experiencing the smells and activities that only a camp encounter can bring. For many of those it was a familiar time and for others, it was all new. Either way a time of transition to new learning with their peers and their teachers while on their way to new growth later in the spring. Seasons can be found everywhere.
My Grandfather was a huge fisherman and would often take me on his Shasta Lake adventures. I recall this one trip on a late-night junket to catfish until midnight or so it seemed. Being an eight-year-old and going fishing with your Grandfather means a good time, even if you don't really like fishing. Well, this one particular time we were out fishing and my Grandpa got a fish late at night and it was a fight. Once he landed the fish and I used the net to haul it in, we could see the enormity of what he had reeled in. It was the largest catfish I could remember ever seeing and the smile on my Grandfather's face with like the fox in a fully stocked hen house. He was beaming. He ever so gently caressed that fish and held it up to help us see the greatness of his prize. In my mother's family, who came to Central Valley (Shasta Lake City) in the thirties to work on the Shasta Dam, you ate the fish you caught. So my Grandfather took the hook from its mouth and handed me the fish to put in the basket that was hanging off the boat for safe keeping. I tossed the fish onto the lid that opened inwards in order to let the fish slide into the basket below except the lid didn't move and the fish just hopped off and back into the lake. I froze. No one knew what happened but me. I instantly began to cry.
As we ease into Fall remember that every experience that you have at campus matters to kids. Our students look to us for the reactions that make the difference in how they react themselves in similar situations. Our adult leadership is more seen than heard. John F. Kennedy said, "Children are the living messages sent to a time that we will not see." Thanks for your willingness to be the messenger to the future and showing them a caring and loving future is bright and waiting for them. You all are the best. You make a difference.
I thought about leaving the story there but I am sure you want to know that my Grandfather didn't yell but reassured me that it was ok. I should also add that "We" shared a fish story for the rest of our days together with many nights of laughter.
Have a great weekend,
Rob