I fumbled through the week wondering, what could I possibly say on the last day, the last newsletter? Do I have any new wisdom on endings? Can I find language to capture all of the richness of the year? As I look at photos and work of the children from September and try to wrap my mind around all the growth that has taken place on this one floor of the JCC, it is staggering! The children have flourished and blossomed. And what a bloom it has been. I am so, so proud of all that has taken place over these months. But how now do we walk away? I have frequently said over these past few weeks that if I could simply press a “pause” button for the school now and then resume with the “play” button come September, I would. The year has had tremendous calm, harmony and joy. So what can I offer in this final newsletter?
I think the best thing I can do today is come clean and admit, “I don’t know.” I hate goodbyes. I hate to see our students go off. I hate to part with our beloved families and a couple of magnificent teachers. I am confident that there will be more amazing children entering our school in the fall, I am confident that we have hired some new gems, and that new relationships will be built. But at the moment when the parting must take place, when the end is approaching, we are required to take a giant leap of faith, trusting that our new terrain also will provide rich nourishment. The sadness is no doubt a sign that what we are leaving is sweet and fulfilling
My prayer for all of you parents is that your journey ahead be a gentle and rich one. May it be a journey where you continue to support your children for the gems that they are. Each one is so unique, so different, and so special. It is not an easy job to be a parent. There is no handbook, there is no guide. And our children continue to unfold before us. We continue to come to know them as they grow and they continue to come to know themselves. Our role as parents is to help fan their unique sparks. We do not yet know what they will bring to our world as they grow and develop. But we are the executive assistants to their thoughts, dreams and ideas. We will provide them with the water, the nourishment, the sunlight and the shade as they grow. We will not do this alone. We will need one another; and we will need our children’s teachers, friends, mentors, and others. But the most important job for us is to give our children a sense that they are known, that they are seen, that they are recognized and appreciated.
This does not mean we need to over-praise and tell them they are the smartest, most talented, most beautiful. It means honoring the child in front of us, with their strengths and their struggles. There is a beautiful Rabbinic teaching in the Mishnah (rabbinic tractate) that suggests that we should all walk around with two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one should be written, “I am but dust and ashes,” and on the other, “All of creation was made for my sake.” To parent our children we must hold both these truths. The unique beings that live within our home are the most precious in the world to us – and at the same time they are both fallible and part of a world filled with children who belong to parents in just that same way. This does not diminish their value or our love, it just makes us continue to feel connected and responsible for one another.
Perhaps the best gift we have is one another. If we can muddle through this together, if we can share in the journeys, both the heartbreaks and the triumphs, we will be okay. We often say “Community is our middle name” (as it is the “C” in JCC.) And at moments like these I strongly urge everyone to lean into this extraordinary community. Even as we all wander through this uncharted terrain, it is better when we do it together.
Wishing you a Shabbat Shalom and a wonderful summer ahead.
- Gratitude - October 31, 2014
- The Tower Of Babel - October 24, 2014
- The World Was Created For My Sake… I Am But Dust And Ashes - October 3, 2014