News & Notes

At Lower School Back-to-School Night, Lower School Director Natalie Ditmore offered a few words about this year. Below are excerpts from her remarks.

This summer, our staff read Sharon McMahon’s The Small and the Mighty, a book that highlights 12 unsung heroes who changed the course of American history.

We read about pioneers like Virginia E. Randolph, who revolutionized rural education for Black children in the Jim Crow South; Maria de Lopez, a bilingual suffragist who expanded voting rights for Spanish speakers; Norman Mineta, who survived WWII internment to become a trailblazing Cabinet Secretary and civil rights champion; and Grace Banker, who led the “Hello Girls”—bilingual telephone operators who kept critical communications alive on the front lines of WWI.

Not many of these untold stories were ones of grandeur. Instead, they were about day-to-day grit, chipping away at improvement, and doing the next right thing one day at a time. At the end of our staff discussion, we shared in small groups how we might bring these stories back to our students and classrooms. As someone in a non-classroom role, it made me reflect on our school community in two very specific ways.

First, big outcomes rarely come from miracles or grand gestures. They come from small, consistent acts of dedication. Academic progress doesn’t happen without effort, and it certainly doesn’t happen overnight.

I remember a group of my third graders years ago saying that their classmate was “so lucky” he knew all of his multiplication facts—and, oof, did I pause to talk about that for a moment! I asked him, in front of the class, how often he practiced his math facts. He grinned and said, “My dad and I do flash cards every night.” That doesn’t sound like luck to me, I told the class. That sounds like a consistent act of dedication. This is a great time for me to get on my soapbox and remind families to 1) practice math facts and 2) read every day at home. We cannot overemphasize the impact that the simple, consistent acts of reading and practicing can have on students.

This idea of small, consistent acts isn’t just a lesson for our kids—it’s a reminder for us as adults. It’s setting the alarm 20 minutes earlier to steal a little calm before the morning rush. It’s keeping up with tutoring every week to close a learning gap. It’s the late nights our teachers spend preparing for tomorrow, and the early mornings our staff stand outside at 7:45, greeting your child by name with a smile. None of these moments make headlines, but together, they add up to the big stuff: a child who feels safe, knows who they are, and believes they belong.

My second Small and Mighty musing was that small acts ripple out in big ways. I don’t think Virginia Randolph set out to be a pioneer of Black education; she was simply focused on whatever good she could do for the children in her community. I’ve also come across modern examples of small moments that rippled through communities:

• A neighborhood showing up for a young neighbor on the autism spectrum by setting up a night of “fake Halloween” because they knew he was obsessed with trick-or-treating.
• The animator of Frozen launching an interactive app to make learning American Sign Language free and accessible.
• High schoolers spending time leaving flowers and uplifting notes on windshields in hospital parking lots.

Within our own community, it’s teachers giving their lunches to students who forgot theirs. It’s kids sitting with the lonely classmate during lunch—not just once, but repeatedly—until they feel folded in. It’s 5th graders holding hands with TK students as they walk them to class. It’s all the little ways our teachers bend over backwards for their students.

Every so often, we like to remind parents that you, too, are co-keepers of this community. You can also have that small-but-mighty moment that creates a ripple. Introduce yourself to a parent you don’t know, or approach the shy parent standing in the corner at a birthday party (who might, in fact, have red hair and belong to me).

Maybe take it a step further this year by reaching out to the family of the child who is oil to your kiddo’s water. Share a vulnerability at a Friday parent coffee, or check in on someone else who does. Fold in our new families, show up for each other, and do what we do best around here.

Here’s to a small-but-mighty school year!