The Faces of Homecoming

We had spectacular Homecoming festivities over the weekend with most sports teams winning, glorious weather (thanks due to our Chaplain, Rev. Malcolm Wilson), and a great sense of energy from our students, returning alumni and families.

This is actually the first Appleby Homecoming I’ve attended where the weather wasn’t problematic. I was starting to get a complex, so I’m glad that particular streak is broken.

Some of the highlights included: hosting the 50 Year Reunion Club and the Class of 1989’s 25^th Reunion at our home on Friday lunch and dinner, respectively; the re-opening of the Memorial Classroom Building after a complete renovation over the last three summers; and the student house trivia competition and pep rally on Friday and Saturday. (I’ll put some of the more interesting questions from the former in my next post. BTW - Powell’s House won the trivia competition.)

On Saturday, we help the Reunion Dinner in Schlesinger Dining Hall. I realize that hearing from the Principal is not the #1 priority for returning alumni, but I shared a few thoughts anyway. In addition to providing an update on recent Appleby successes and encouraging them to support the school, I made the following reflections on Homecoming:

“I have been struck by 5 sets of Appleby faces that I saw over Homecoming.

The first was the face Robert Fleming who drove in from Kingston, walker and all, for his first visit in many decades to attend the luncheon at our home yesterday from grads of 1964 and earlier – the 50 year club.

With his twin brother Louis, Robert first came to Appleby 80 years ago in 1934 as a nine-year-old boarder.

Over lunch, Robert talked about how he ended up here from England to a school of fewer than 80 boys. He remembered how wonderful and kind Headmaster Pervical Wickins was, but how he sadly and suddenly died of cancer at the end of the school year after only telling people a couple of weeks before. Robert explained that he and his brother shifted to Lakefield to finish high school. After pausing for a bit, he then exclaimed – with his blue eyes twinkling and a big, broad smile – that on reflection, the happiest years of his life were in boarding at Appleby.

The second set of faces I that struck me were of the faces of many, many members of the class of 2014 who came back after having graduated just three short months ago. They were also smiling and full of joy about seeing classmates and former teachers.

But speaking with them, I get the sense that they are different people. The have the confidence of adults coming back to their alma mater, rather than the proud yet nervous grad about to leave the nest to take a giant life-step. I heard stories about how well university is going, and how they look back on their teachers and on their experiences – be they in the classroom, on the playing field, sleeping in a quinzhee in Temagami, or helping build a school in Kenya – they look on these with an emerging sense of broader perspective, and, as a result, much deeper appreciation for what their Appleby experience was all about.

The third set of faces that I think about are the 5 faces of the soldiers of the sculpture “Remembrance and Renewal” in front of the Memorial Classroom Building. We officially re-opened this morning, 65 years after it was first opened in 1949. It has been completely renovated and is a spectacular example of what leading edge learning space should be. And the statue, which we dedicated last June 6 (the 70^th anniversary of D-Day) is a variation by the same sculptor of the centrepiece of the Juno Beach Memorial. Remembrance and Renewal’s dual purposes are 1) to remind us that the Memorial Classroom Building was built as a tribute to the AC men who fought and died in WWII, while also 2) inspiring alumni and students to exhibit those same values – sense of service, duty and commitment to bettering society throughout your lives. Each of the five faces of the sculpture shows a different emotion. It is a beautiful piece and you should make sure you take the opportunity to look at it lit up at night, and also see how the building has been transformed since your time as a student.

And the fifth face that I remember well is that of a young boy I chatted with this afternoon. He is maybe two or three and was all hyped up on ice cream, noise and excitement. When I asked him what he was doing, his brown eyes got really big, and he had one of those earnest faces (coloured with Appleby-blue facepaint),and he told me in a loud voice with a blend of great gravitas and bursting pride that “This is my Daddy’s School!”

I don’t know who was prouder – the boy or his father. But it captured for me how a great school is about community beyond just what happens here on campus.

Those five sets of faces capture much of what was great about Homecoming today.”

Time Shifts

I feel really guilty about not posting over the summer. “The best laid plans of mice and men …”

But it wasn’t because of an eight week holiday.

While most school administrators (including those of us at Appleby) usually take summer vacation, we don’t take the entire summer as vacation. This is one the great myths of schools – that we all take two months off. I took about 3 weeks with my family and regret that I didn’t take more time with our kids as they bounced between camps. Our older two kids are at the stage where next summer, jobs will likely get in the way of our having all of us spend a couple of weeks together at my wife’s family’s cottage in Quebec’s Eastern Townships. So this summer was a bit of a milestone, and my wife Alison and I feel a bit sad that the family-focused, extended time together over the summer may now be a thing of the past.

Extended summer holidays are by no means uniquely Canadian. While we get to enjoy more holidays than our friends to the south and many Asian countries, we still rank well-below many European countries. However, the idea of time away at a cottage, at a camp, on a canoe trip or at another outdoor location with family is very much part of the Canadian ethos. This may be evolving, but it’s still very much part of what I think as being typically Canadian (together with bagged milk, the CBC, an over-developed inclination towards apology, and the Crispy Crunch bar). For many of us, our special places – those with which we seem to have the strongest, most nostalgic bond – relate to summer holidays, be it Georgian Bay, Lake Joseph, Algonquin Park, Temagami, or the Bruce Trail.

I have read a few articles about research that points to how extended summer vacations for students are not in the best interest of optimal learning, but on the other hand many have prophesized that Canadian school administrators mess with summer holidays at their own peril.

What is true, however, is the increasing popularity of pursuing education or education-lite in the summer. This last two months, we had more than 5000 registrants in our summer camps, summer academy and residential ESL program – a record number. And the popularity of summer credit programs, especially related to international travel, has never been greater. Many summer overnight outdoor summer camps have for credit elements to their programs.

As I speak with students and faculty about what they are most frustrated with about their Appleby experience, there is close to unanimity that number one is managing the challenging demands of the program within our most limited resource – time. So, as we prepare our next strategic plan, we are going back to a question which I posed two years ago – should we challenge our paradigm of time? Does it make sense to consider optional alternatives such as an extra year of high school, or broader summer offerings, or re-consider the length of the academic year?

Finally, let me go back to that question of summer holidays and a common lament by critics of schools. Heck, even I was guilty many years ago of musing about this subject – why is it that teachers get so many holidays?

If you look at the faculty, most of whom are away for all of July and August, the reality of their work year is quite different than the typical assumption. We’ve done the math and it is clear that teachers at busy independent schools trade off more holidays (in the summer and at Christmas) for work weeks in the academic year that are all-consuming.

This was brought home to me over the few week. With classes and meetings starting at 8 am every weekday, and co-curricular programs running until 5 or 6 pm, the standard day is a very long one. But on top of it, rehearsals for plays or sports fixtures (especially away-games) frequently result in later evenings and Saturday absences. And when one starts to include residence duty on week nights and on weekends, Saturday service days, and special events like Homecoming, parent/teacher interviews, and grade parties, all that free time away from school starts to dissipate like an early morning fog meeting the hot morning sun. And of course, our outdoor education and global education programs are core elements of the experience at Appleby, and they require faculty to be away in an all-encompassing 24/7 experience for between three days to more than two weeks. I realized that a couple of weeks ago as I waved goodbye to colleagues on Saturday as they ventured forth in canoes for an overnight with our new boarders in the pouring rain at Pinecrest. And they were a long way from their own spouses, partners and children.

At a place like Appleby, we expect our teachers to be more than adequate. We expect them to be ‘on’ in the classroom, to be ‘on’ at the playing field, to be ‘on’ in the canoe, and to be ‘on’ when counselling boarders during weekend duty. I have come to appreciate that while they do have more vacations than most, it is an absolutely fair reflection of what we ask of them during the schools year, and an essential requirement for both their long-term sanity and being the energized/engaged guide for their students.

Farewell to the Class of 2014 - Courage and Permission for A Life of Meaning

On any given day, I am juggling my "guilt pile" - those things I should have done days, weeks or months ago. Most recently, on the top of the pile has been posting some blog entries. So I am finally getting caught up, starting with my remarks at Closing Ceremonies on June 20. More to come on a regular basis.

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Some of the middle aged members of the audience will remember a long-running series of tv ads for the stock brokerage E.F. Hutton. They all featured busy locations full of many people and lots of chatter. As soon as the main character says, “My broker is E.F. Hutton and E.F Hutton says …”, there is complete silence and the dozens of extras all strain their necks to listen in for the pearls of market insights about to drop. Unfortunately, I sense that many of us who are school Principals may delude ourselves into thinking that graduation audiences are straining their ears in anticipation of Dumbledorian wisdom to spring forth form our lips. But the more you are around graduation or university convocation audiences, the more you realize that brevity seems to be the best path to success. While I can’t promise brief, I will get you out well before dinner!

So with that in mind, I’d like to share with you one reflection and two pieces of advice – one to the graduands, and the other to (I was going to say adults, but I think of the about-to-be graduates as adults – so let me call the parents, grandparents, and friends) ‘the older folks’.

#1 - Congratulations to all of our students from M1 to S2 for a most successful year. From the academic performances, which we are honoring today and in the fall; to great athletic results with multiple national and provincial medals (including golds) and numerous league titles; to close to 200 of you spending time overseas; to remarkable performances in the arts; to dedicated commitment to making our communities better through almost 40,000 hours of service; to friendships formed and friendships forged as strong as steel; to learning how to live and co-exist with those who are different than you; to the joy of writing your last high school exam just a few days ago; as I look back on this year, I have to tell you that they make me smile. Not just a little grin, but a wide, bright, beaming smile. And you should feel the same way.

To the class of 2014 – for only a few more minutes the Senior 2 class – you are a remarkable group. Many of you have nothing short of extraordinary abilities and really special gifts. A few of you even have more than one of these gifts. They range from talents to attitude to character to people skills.

While Appleby has benefited from superb performances in formal leadership roles this year – Prefects, house councils, captain, wardens, club heads – an even more impressive reflection of your class has been the extent to which so many of you have stepped up to show that small act of kindness, to understand when leadership was really needed and fill that need. And that applied to high profile classmates, to those of you who are very quiet, to those who are academic stars, those for whom school was a bit of a struggle, and even to some of you who have the knack for stirring the pot in a good natured yet mischievous way (you know who you are). The bottom line is that the sum of all your actions, the synergy of the class, is far greater than you as individuals. Mrs. Samson, Mr. Grant and I are very proud of you all. The staff of Appleby – your teachers – are proud of you. And I suspect that your parents, grandparents, siblings and friends share that sense of immense pride.

As I was listening to some of our Grade 8 POLs last week, I heard many great presentations and thoughtful reflections - far more than when I was 13 years old. One of the presentations focused on a student’s musings about the risks he has taken – about trying new things. And he was bang on.

My advice to the class of 2014 is: be wary of trusting your gut. You heard me correctly. I am contradicting what has been one of the most the ubiquitous pieces of graduation advice of the last few years:  that oft-repeated refrain “follow your gut - do what you love”.

I want you to, at times, disregard your gut.

What do I mean by that?

I want you to do things differently. When you look at people who have done extraordinary things in their lives, the achievements and successes that they are most proud of usually have come from people stretching themselves, operating in a zone of uneasiness, of doubt, of discomfort. And older people, when asked about regrets, almost always talk about the risks that they didn’t take, rather than those that they did.

Almost everything that I am most proud of in my life those things that I look back as being memorable – from running in student elections, innovating in jobs, standing up to people I respect on a point of principle, being a father, performing on stage, being with someone as they died, or skydiving for the first time – they were all very, very difficult. Many of them I failed at first time (although fortunately not skydiving.) The greatest rewards often come after the most challenging journeys. In all these cases, a significant part of my gut inclination was to avoid those situations because they would make me uncomfortable.

I have no doubt that all of you, each and every member of the class of 2014, has the capacity to do well. Whether you were a star here or just got by, rest assured that you have the tools to do just fine in university and beyond. You have been through a demanding program at Appleby and have been forced to balance many requirements in a structured, high-expectation environment. You do have the ability.

The greatest obstacle, the highest hurdle to your fulfilling your immense potential will not be your ability, but rather your sense of creative ambition, your capacity to imagine how great you really can be. And just as important, developing a taste for risks – a taste for trying things that are completely different and new, a taste for doing things that you may well fail at, a taste for being uncomfortable. Those are the experiences which – win or lose – you will learn the most from, yet they are also often the experiences which your gut will direct you away from.

When I came here two years ago, I heard a lot about the ‘Oakville bubble’ and the ‘Appleby bubble’ – this sense of a protected Pollyanna experience. But what I have seen is something quite different: many of you pushing yourselves out of your comfort zones be it in Temagami, growing up in a foreign country in a different language, trying new sports, international service trips, or performing in front of the school. I hope that you felt comfortable doing those things because, succeed or fail, you know that you belong at Appleby. This is one of your homes.

Next year, you, the members of the class of 2014 will not have the comfort of Appleby. But I challenge you. I challenge to at least twice try next year try something bold, something very different for you, something that you might very well fail at. 

Finally a word of advice to the older folks here this morning, which in itself can be seen as a courageous step for any school administrator!

About four years ago I was in a meeting with the noted youth psychologist and author Adam Cox about an ambitious study he was in the middle of. He was interviewing thousands of young people from around the world – from different cultures, wealthy and poor, urban and rural. He was asking them about the big life questions – What do you want from life? What is important to you? What are the obstacles?

To this day, I remember what he identified as the two commonalities in the vast majority of his conversations. Across nationalities, religions, races, Dr. Cox said that young people aspired to two things in life. The first should be of no surprise to you: young people talked about a yearning to live a life of meaning. Of course, living a life of meaning can mean different things to different people, but it usually relates to achieving three things: 1) doing well – being successful, doing things at a high level; 2) being able to do some things in your life that you love, which bring you great enjoyment; and 3) finding a way to improve your society – your community, your family, and the world. Of course for most of us, we need to do a variety of things to fulfill all three. Few endeavors speak to all three at the same time.

Even those young people who may be thought of as unmotivated or lacking in potential still aspire to live a life of meaning.

The other common theme that Dr. Cox heard was that youth wanted to make their parents proud – to be good children. And it wasn’t just the well behaved, straight-and-narrow crowd. Here’s the kicker, even those teenagers whose parents had passed away, and those who are in serious conflict with their parents, almost all of them all talked about wanting to make their parents proud. It is such a powerful message.

So you too have a very important role in the next few years, and I don’t just mean in term of paying university tuition fees. Think about how you can give permission for these remarkable young people to take those risks, to dream big, to be uncomfortable, to take a path different from the one that you may have.

For some, it will be in the words you speak, for others it will be in the actions you take or don’t take. I know that many teenagers have developed ideas about what will make their parents proud based on the craziest indicators or assumptions. And sometimes those interpretations are very far from the truth.  

So, tell them your own stories. Talk to them about what you regret from your younger years, especially the things you didn’t do but wished you had. Tell them about your own failures. Most of us who are parents never share those kinds of thoughts with our kids because we worry about showing weakness or setting a bad example. But in reality, those stories are very powerful ways that we can grant our children the permission to explore and discover what their own best lives of meaning can be.

We all want to make sure that our kids aren’t hurt. Ironically, the best way to do that, in the long term, is by giving them your blessing to take those risks, to be bold and to sometimes fail.

So to the class of 2014 – have the courage to take risks. Develop the thirst for being uncomfortable and not always trusting your gut. Aim big.

To the parents and mentors – give that permission. Let them know that it will make you proud.

To all of our students from Grade 7 up, and especially the Class of 2014. Thank you for a wonderful, memorable, and successful year. You’ve done the Appleby community proud – congratulations!

Thank you

Welcome and the Long Walk

Welcome back to the start of the school year.

The last two weeks seems almost surreal. New boarders arrived the day after Labour Day - the same day as all faculty (new teachers and those in leadership roles came in a week before). Between new student orientation, first assembly, parent orientation, athletics tryouts, parent grade parties, tie ceremonies – not to mention classes – students, their families, and faculty are riding a giant, speeding roller coaster of emotion. Katrina Samson (our Head of School) and I see that especially in the tie ceremonies where every new student processes up one-by-one in chapel in front of the grade band to receive their Appleby tie, shake our hands, and have a photo taken with us.

The John Bell Chapel is the place at Appleby that gives off the most Hogwarts-like feel with its gothic architecture, stained glass, and the constant whisper of history. I know that the process is intimidating for some of the kids – you can see that in their gaits (quite the variety!) and many very serious looks. It’s almost always uncomfortable being the centre of attention in your peer group, especially for teenagers. When they finally arrive at the front of the chapel (I’m sure the students who are seated at the back feel that they have walked a marathon by the time they arrive), Katrina and I encourage them to take a moment and smile. Every year, there are a few outliers (usually senior schoolers) who embrace Katrina and I for the photo like we are long-lost buds. I suspect that chutzpah will serve them well in life. And by the time they arrive back in their seats, they have completed what is probably the most difficult part of week 1.

Everyone feels like this first week of school has actually lasted for more like two or three. It’s probably in part because last week was a ‘short week’ with the long weekend, in part because of the emotional roller coaster, and in large part because the returning the back to back classes that last a day after two months of camp or relaxing or cottage or a job takes remarkable mental focus – it is exhausting. A teacher just pointed out another reason: after spending the summer in flip flops, walking five full days in heels takes a physical toll. I’ll trust her on that one.

Welcome back to everyone. There is a wonderful, positive energy on campus. I look forward to a great year with one of the first highlights being Homecoming on September 26/27. See you there.

PS Here's a cartoon shared by my colleague Calvin Armstrong that has a different take on start of school

Fools, Geniuses & Wisdom

Do you know some of those people who are really smart, but their intelligence is only exceeded by their arrogance? While often worthy of respect, they’re not usually the ones you want to spend your holidays with. The only thing worst is someone who isn’t very smart but who is nevertheless just as arrogant.

“As the dog returns to his vomit, the fool repeats his folly.” Proverbs 26:11

“The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people so full of doubts.” Bertrand Russell

“Lake Wobegon … where all the children are above average.” Garrison Keillor

Why is it that people who are so lacking in wisdom seem to be so excruciatingly confident?

 As I was doing battle with the construction on the Gardiner Expressway a couple of weeks ago (not much fun), I had the somewhat compensatory pleasure of listening to Ideas in the Afternoon on the subject of The Fool’s Dilemma. The show presented one of the most baffling tendencies that almost all humans have – we overestimate both our own intelligence and our own kindness. Our brains take shortcuts and jump to conclusions which flatter us.

The documentary reviews a wide range of psychological research about how we see our own judgment and our profound inability to objectively understand our own abilities and blind spots. Why has the human brain evolved to be what the show describes as an illusion-making machine? They argue that in our far distant past, those who were able to trust their gut reactions and react quickly – in a fight or flight mode – tended to survive longer than the intellectual analytical crowd. These two different ways of thinking – the fast, intuitive gut reaction and the slow, conscious, intellectual, analytical process – are inter-related. It is recognized that the slower conscious thought process uses filters to take in mainly evidence that support the earlier intuitive response. Confirmation bias is what we call the tendency of our brains to take in the information that supports our hypothesis and ignore the data which contradicts it. It is a powerful contributor to The Fool’s Dilemma.

For many years, I have enjoyed all those exercises and games that show how our brains toy with us, and I’m continually amazed by how perception is often far off from reality. A few favourite examples are:

·         The fact that our noses are always in our field of sight, yet we never see it unless we consciously over-ride our sub-conscious filter and focus on it. (I suspect that all of you are staring down at your noses right now.)

 

·         The brain’s tendency to see through clear errors in writing because it is interpolating the meaning (and leading you to perceive the error-free version.) Here is an example.

·         There are a whole bunch of examples on this site that illustrate this – test yourself

The show includes discussions with Dr. David Dunning, co-author of the Dunning Kruger Effect – a family of characteristics, but best known is that incompetent people tend not to know that they are lacking in competence. Dunning also discusses ‘the double burden of incompetence’ – first is that it prevents you from getting to the right answer. Second, it prevents you from realizing that you can’t get to the right answer.

Dunning and Kruger proposed that, for a given skill, incompetent people will:

·         tend to overestimate their own level of skill;

·         fail to recognize genuine skill in others;

·         fail to recognize the extremity of their inadequacy;

·         recognize and acknowledge their own previous lack of skill, if they are exposed to training for that skill

None of this is news was a big surprise to me (… perhaps a perfect case study of the Dunning-Kruger Effect!) However, the show’s participants also make a compelling case how the second burden of incompetence is not limited to the fools. To paraphrase the host, Laura Penny, while the fool does not know how stupid he is, equally true is that the genius does not know how stupid he is.

Certainly in my experience, it is more often the people who are very bright (and as a result are often right) who have the greatest difficulty recognizing or acknowledging when they may not be right.

This whole dynamic poses huge challenges in education. To put it succinctly, how to we help students appreciate the difference between intelligence and wisdom?

How can we help young people (and adults for that matter) to break through The Fools Dilemma and be more comfortable with the idea of being wrong?

The confidence of youth is both fragile and double-edged. The idea of trying something bold – that no one else has done – is altogether too uncommon for those of us in middle age. Risk-taking (for a good reason) is significantly undervalued in North America. The Fool’s Dilemma certainly helps buttress those who are inclined to be bold. For teenagers, the encouragement to reach beyond their grasp is an important factor in fulfilling potential.

Just as important, how can we ensure that their brains, when in the slow conscious analytical mode, are completely open to evidence that may contradict their gut reaction. This is a wonderful example of the central notion of critical thinking. The problem is that such ability tends to be in tension with healthy confidence, esteem, and optimism. The psychologists interviewed suggest that the only exceptions to The Fool’s Dilemma are those who suffer from clinical depression.

So, what is the answer? Of course, we must continue to encourage our students to think boldly, to aim high, and to test the unknown. At the same time, however, we need to provide them the tools to overcome our tendency towards confirmation bias. And these are most critical to those with the highest capabilities … a club which pretty much everyone feels s/he belongs in.

Remember the Oracle of Delphi’s pronouncement on Socrates: he was the only truly wise man in the land because he alone understood that he knew nothing.

Friesland, Democracy & Critical Thinking

I have a strange name.

I have spent a lifetime being called everything under the sun and have particular sympathy for people whose mother tongue is other than English (which is a far cry from suggesting that native English speakers do any better with it!) Innes is a Scottish surname that my francophone relatives have a particularly tough time with - the hard ‘i’ sound tends to come out as “he”. The best way to remember it is to think of ‘Guinness’ and drop the ‘G’.

However, Innes isn’t my first name. It actually begins with a C and is an ancient name that seems anachronistic in North America, although it is still common in parts of Europe. As a kid, outside of my own family, the only times I had ever heard it used was in my Latin textbook, in the Christmas special Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, and in Planet of the Apes – the original starring Charlton Heston. See if you can figure what it is.

As an adult, my name has grown into a point of mild pride. It is interesting, tells a story, and links me with my ancestors. But for kids (including me), often unique traits are about as welcome as lice. Whether it is physical differences, ways of speaking, weird names, or family quirks, anything that moves you to the outside of the adolescent bell curve of being ‘normal’ is to be avoided or at least well-hidden.

Young people who are comfortable in their own skins, especially if they are different, are remarkably impressive. How we promote this ability is among the greatest challenges for parents, teachers and society. Because, whether the comfort comes from wisdom, courage, delusion, perspective, or arrogance, it will more than likely be a major contributor to longer-term happiness. We all know people who have spent lifetimes trying to become comfortable with who they are. Discovering (or it is developing) that comfort is one of life’s greatest gifts

My last name was created in the 1630s by my great x 10 grandfather, Jacob Jansen. He emigrated from a flooded island home call Nordstrandt (or ‘North Shore’) in Friesland to an area of New Amsterdam that is today just outside of Saratoga, New York. Once in the New World, he adopted the surname van Nordstrandt or ‘from North Shore’. Any van Nostrand or Van Ostrand or Noordstrand or other derivation is almost certainly a descendant of Jacob Jansen.

Friesland is now part of The Netherlands, Germany and Denmark, but the Friesans used to be their own nation and were intertwined with the Angles and other Germanic tribes. The distinct Friesan language and dialects still exist and I am told that Friesan culture is alive and thriving. My cousin John, who is a well-known international expert in planning and how communities interact, informed me that for much of their history in the early Middle Ages, the Friesans had neither kings nor lords and practiced democracy as the core of their societal decision-making system long before most other European powers. Indeed, they exported the idea to other nations.

Democracy is at the heart of North American and Western European society. It is impossible for me to imagine Canada being anything other than democratic. We promote it in much of what we do as a school, and it is a pillar of Round Square.

It’s hard to take issue with Churchill’s famous quote on the subject, “It has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all the others that have been tried.” However, David Brooks’ column today is a refreshing example of US-based critical thinking when it comes to political systems.

In travels over the last 20 years, there have been many questions raised in my mind about political structures. Visits over the last couple of years to places such as Peru, China, India, and Malaysia, as well as observing some of the areas of international tension have amplified these questions:   

·         Is democracy right for all societies?

·         What are the pre-requisites for successful democracy?

·         Is it essential for freedom of the press, a free-market economy, human rights, an independent judiciary and democracy to co-exist?

·         Does democracy work when society has big problems that need to be solved?

·         What is the relationship between corruption and different political systems?

·         Is the appropriateness of democracy related to stages of social development?

·         Have we been sufficiently creative in coming up with variations on democracy to fit circumstances?

I don’t pretend to understand the best answers to these questions, but I do appreciate that, like religion, we often fall into the trap of assuming that our system is right … simply because it is our system.  We grew up with it, it has worked well for us and our ancestors, and our nation prospers. It is easy and common for North Americans to fall into the trap of assuming that we have a monopoly on truth as applied to political systems both for our own futures as well as those of the other nations of the world.

There is an interesting conversation among educators about the oft-used used phrase ‘critical thinking skills’. There is a broad consensus that it is one of the most important skills for success in the next 50 years, but what exactly do we mean by it? In part, it is the ability to ask the tough question; to challenge conventional wisdom; to keep an open mind; to use evidence and creativity to fully explore all aspects of a big question or issue.

Is there any better example for the need for critical thinking for global citizens than defining the best systems to allow our communities and our nations to govern themselves?

Musical Poetry, Midges and Spring

On Thursday night, I had the pleasure to welcome the new local students and their parents to Appleby. It’s a great experience looking out on a room of bright, smiling faces tinted with the contradictory blend of excitement for what is to come, together with mild worry about leaving what they know and are comfortable with. It was great to watch Andreus, one of our fabulous Grade 12 students, break the ice with the kids by performing absolutely mesmerizing and seemingly impossible magic tricks. Even the most cynical teenager couldn’t help but be impressed and smile.

I shared with the new parents why this is such a great week. It finally feels like spring has sprung – the flags on campus are up, the trees are budding, temperatures are rising, and you can have your full recommended daily intake of protein by walking across campus with your mouth open. (For those outside of the region, the Toronto lakeshore area is being swarmed by tiny, completely safe, non-biting, but annoying midge flies. There are lots of folks wandering around swinging their arms like mad orchestra conductors!)  It’s more than just the weather though, Appleby won all the rugby and soccer games I took in this week (and no, I’m not suggesting a causal relationship.)

It is also Arts Week here on campus. Every day there have been multiple performances across campus. From massive bands to innovative dance performances to mask-based drama to the jazz ensemble belting out Chicago’s Make Me Smile while looking out over the lake, there has been something for everyone. This year, a few of the newer initiatives included: a powerful original play about social media and the portrayal of girls; the cooking club creating culinary treats for the schools and Art Battle. Art Battle was a “competition” over lunch where about 10 students and faculty are in a circle in the Schlesinger Dining Hall and are given 15 minutes to create individual masterpieces in front of the rest of the school. The crowds gathering around the artists (some of whom really fit that descriptor and others not so much) showed how much natural interest there is in the creative process.

On Friday, I took in a couple of concerts in the John Bell Chapel as well as the Finale in the gym. The contrast in each performance was a window in on the talent of our students, and also on the notion on variety and how it can infuse passion and interest. In the finale, we had solo pop/rock vocal performances , an incredible Tchaikovsky concerto performed by Harry on piano backed by a full orchestra, our great Grade 12 Hold the Phones house band, David and James performing a ukulele/guitar duet of their own Hawaiian folk song (a unconventional endeavour if there ever was one as they don’t know the language), Andreus and Catherine performing a cello duet of Guns N Roses’ Welcome to the Jungle, a little Barry Manilow from the Concert Band, and the evening closed with the 1812 Overture complete with chemistry students exploding hydrogen balloons that reverberated throughout the gym – real cannons couldn’t have sounded better.

The Chapel concerts had similar variety with great vocal medleys and even one of the string ensembles shifting from Hadyn into Bruno Mars.

During these performances many of the students in the audience couldn’t help but follow a little nuthatch as spent hours flying all around the chapel from the balcony to the rafters, even landing on some of the stunning stain glass windows – all in a quest to escape this strange place. Most certainly, audience goers flipped back and forth between tuning into the music and worrying what would happen if he was unable to get out.

About three quarters through the second concert, Timur took the stage (the sanctuary of the chapel) to belt out New York New York. I have heard Tim sing crooner numbers before. He has a great powerful voice and both his timing and his ability to modulate make him a popular and stylish showman. And he really hit it out of the park that morning.

As Tim was mostly through his piece, the nuthatch stopped his incessant flying and landed on the candle hanging above him and the sanctuary. For the first time in hours, the bird started to sing. Unbeknown to Timur, he was doing a duet with this little fellow. You couldn’t have written it any better because as Tim was hitting his last “New York” – the song’s crescendo, the bird finally found small stained glass window cracked open, flew over, landed on the edge, then, as the audience erupted in ovation, the bird completed his own chapel odyssey to flying out to his endless buffet of midges.

What a perfect exclamation mark on  … Spring is here!