Graduation Reflections
Thirty-two years ago this month, I graduated from high school. I still can’t believe that fact. I was blessed to attend the school I chose, and my parents were willing to stretch financially to send me there. It was the place where I met my best friend, overcame my first real challenge, and was encouraged to explore my lasting vocation. I am fond of saying that the difference between foresight and hindsight is clarity; the former is opaque at best, while the latter is completely clear. Looking back, I can confidently say that my high school years entirely shaped the trajectory of my life.
Two conversations that bookended my high school experience have remained with me my entire life. The first took place on my very first day of school. It was one of the few times my dad ever drove me, as I was expected to take the TTC one and a half hours each way, each day. But not on day one. He knew me and what I needed. I was tremendously anxious and nervous about joining an incoming class without any pre-existing friendships. That morning, his parting words to me were, “Remember, you wanted this more than anything else.” He was right, and that was deeply comforting in that moment.
That second conversation took place at my graduation. I was asked by my most revered teacher to read a passage from scripture, which was one of the greatest honours bestowed upon a student. At the reception following the service, I asked him why he chose me—a B+ student amongst three-term athletes, Ivy League prospects, and all-around academic superstars—to lead the reading. He replied, “Because you have learned the wisdom from that reading more than anyone else in your class.” The theme of the passage was “strength through adversity.”
My most influential teachers have been found at home, at school, and surprisingly, in the garden. My parents were my first teachers and, from an early age, instilled in me a deep desire to know myself, trust in my faith, and believe in my potential. As immigrants to Canada, their overarching motivation was for their children to have a better life than they did. This meant pursuing the best possible education for me and inspiring the best work ethic so that I could make a contribution to the world. Meanwhile, it was that teacher who called me forth at graduation, who also believed in me even when I misstepped. Rather than having me sit in detention, he compelled me to weed and plant in the school garden. Little did I know then that time in the garden became my operating metaphor for my professional life. Tending a garden is much like leading a school. The quality of the soil and the conditions for growth are what matter most.
And so, when I think about the many firsts and lasts of our boys this week, I recall my own experience and turn to gratitude for the tremendous and lasting influence of my parents and my teachers. Simply put, I would not be the person I am today, nor doing the work I care most about, without them in my life. While we celebrated our boys' many accomplishments, achievements, milestones, and next opportunities on stage last week, I was also thinking of those who loved them along the way—their parents, grandparents, teachers, and mentors. “Getting to the stage” at closing ceremonies is a journey that no one travels alone. With the end of another fine year of school, let’s also remember those who helped us get there.
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