We Are Stronger Together

For those of you new to Govs, our Wednesday Chapel gatherings give us a moment of quiet reflection and contemplation in the midst of a week that can sometimes feel too loud and too fast. We enter the Chapel in silence to give ourselves a chance to slow down, think, and enjoy being together in this beautiful space. Chapel Talks cover a wide range of subjects and come in many different styles. They can move us to tears, provoke uproarious laughter, or inspire us to examine our own lives in new ways. Whatever the form, Chapel Talks share one thing in common—they represent one community member’s effort to share something meaningful to them with the entire school community.  

At one point this summer, my mother, who lives in a senior living community about half an hour from campus, wanted me to come hang pictures in her apartment. Whether to give me strength for what would turn into two and a half hours of hanging pictures, or to bribe me, I’m not sure, but she took me to dinner at one of the community’s restaurants.  

I ordered the salmon dish with a baked potato and steamed spinach. When they brought our food, I tasted my spinach, and it didn’t have any seasoning, so I added a little salt and tasted it again. It still needed more seasoning, so I added some pepper. As I picked up the next bite of spinach, I looked down into the bowl and there, in the midst of the spinach, was a well-steamed cricket. Fun fact: Crickets change color when you cook them, so rather than being black as they are in the wild, this one was a lovely reddish brown. I was more surprised than I was upset, and I thought, if I were the manager, I would want to know. I called the waitress over and told her I thought I needed to speak with the manager. She asked if anything was wrong, looked at the table, and was horrified. She was probably around the age of many of you, and when she saw the cricket, she said, “I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life,” to which my mother replied, “Well, I’m 85, and I haven’t either!”  

I didn’t call the manager over because I was angry or I wanted to get anyone in trouble. I just felt like there should be some accountability. And that’s what I want to spend some time thinking about together today.  

We are all accountable to lots of different people in lots of different ways. I am accountable to the Govs board of trustees. They hired me to do a job, and every year they review my performance to make sure it meets their expectations and to give me feedback so I can keep growing as a leader. I am also accountable to the nearly 200 full- and part-time employees who work for Govs, to make sure I create an environment where they can do their work and have the resources they need to succeed. I am also accountable to your parents, who have entrusted us with your care and have a right to expect that we will deliver on the promises we make to educate you and help you grow. That is one way to think about accountability.

Another way to think about it is in terms of the expectations we set for you as members of the Govs community. This is what Mr. Delay discussed in our all-school meeting early last week when he reviewed the expectations around attendance and how people will be held accountable for failing to meet them. Or, as Ms. O’Connell shared in her morning meeting announcement on Monday, having the privilege of using the weight room comes with expectations and responsibilities, and the consequences she described for not cleaning up after ourselves are how we are held accountable for failing to meet those expectations.  

These are important examples of how we are accountable in the Govs community, but rules and policies tell only part of the story. I believe that there is a much more profound way in which we are accountable at Govs, and it relates to the character of the community that we strive to create, and that we all benefit from living in.

Helen Keller, an American author, disability rights advocate, and political activist who became the first deaf and blind person to earn a Bachelor of Arts degree, once said, “A true community is not just about being together; it's about being there for each other when it matters most.” As this quotation from Helen Keller suggests, “being there” for each other implies that this is a two-way street. Keller reminds us that we have to be willing to step up for each other when we need it, but she is also telling us that others can only be there for us if we let them know where we are. We have to tell someone around us when we need help. Have you ever found yourself struggling, but stayed silent because you were worried about being a burden to a friend or a teacher?

Too often, I think that people hesitate to ask for help because they don’t want to trouble their friends or teachers with their personal struggles. But as I look back on my time in education, some of the most meaningful and fulfilling moments have come from being given the privilege of helping someone. And honestly, that’s how I think most people feel—that helping others is a privilege. When you ask someone for help, you are letting them know that you trust them—that you are willing to be vulnerable in front of them, and that you have confidence in their willingness to be there for you. It is an honor to be trusted enough by someone to ask you for help. The point I am trying to make is that we should not hesitate to ask for help; we should think of it as a gift that we can give to others.  

Many years ago, I was a new dean at a college where a big part of my job involved supporting students, and a sophomore, I’ll call her Joanna, came to see me on a weekend evening. She had an interaction with another student that left her feeling deeply uncomfortable, and, encouraged by her friends, she sought me out. I was truly honored that she would trust me to be there for her in that moment of need. While I hated that she needed help, I was grateful I could be there for her when she needed someone most.

For me, it was simply a chance to help another person in need. But to Joanna, it was much, much more. Sixteen years after she graduated from college, Joanna emailed me to say that she had completed a four-year residency in diagnostic radiology and a one-year fellowship in abdominal imaging and intervention, and she said, “Thank you again for your mentorship and support during my formative college years. I wouldn't have gotten here without you!” Now, I know that Joanna would have been just fine without me, and would have been every bit as successful in life had she never been one of my students. And in fact, when I read her note, I wanted to thank her for honoring me with her trust. Being invited into people’s lives in that way is a privilege. To use Keller’s words, in asking me for help, Joanna wasn’t burdening me; she was giving me an opportunity to fulfill the promise of what it means to live in community. This also shows that we never know when a kind word or gesture will mean more to someone than we could ever imagine.

When I had Joanna as a student, I never would have known she would be so grateful for my help that she'd write to thank me sixteen years later. What was a small kindness for me had a profound impact on her.

When we welcome a new person into our circles with warmth and generosity, when we try to see things from another person’s point of view, and when we ask people how they are doing and really wait for an answer.

But here’s the thing: We all have opportunities every day to create the conditions in which people feel more comfortable asking for help—and safe reaching out. Let me be clear—whether or not a person decides to ask for help when they need it at any given moment is ultimately out of our control. But at the same time, there are things every one of us can do to create a culture at Govs that increases the likelihood that others will turn to us when it matters most. We do it through small acts of kindness every day: When we welcome a new person into our circles with warmth and generosity, when we try to see things from another person’s point of view, and when we ask people how they are doing and really wait for an answer. In those moments, we signal to people that they matter to us. When we can do that in the small moments, we increase the likelihood that they will turn to someone in the big moments.

The high school years can be deeply challenging ones. We see all around us that rates of anxiety and depression among teenagers are at historic highs, and there are so many aspects of life that can, at times, feel overwhelming. The adults on this campus have faced many of the same challenges. Being cut from a team, failing a test, violating a major school rule, being unkind to a friend or having a friend be unkind to you, breaking up with someone, or even losing a loved one—whatever it is that you are feeling, some adult in this community has been through it. And a lot of us have been through many of those things. I say this because sometimes, when you are struggling, you feel like you are the only one who's ever been in that situation, and that there is no way to come out the other side. But there is. The adults in this room are living proof. And because we have been through those moments, we can help you through them as well.  

I once worked with a college student who had mapped out the next steps in his life, and he was certain that plan would lead him to success and happiness. And he made some mistakes—mistakes that would require him to fundamentally rethink the plan he had committed himself to in his mind. At one point, he was convinced that he had made such a mess of his life that it might not be worth living. That is how powerful his emotions were. But in the end, he asked for help. He had some hard weeks and months ahead of him, but fast-forward many years, and he is happily married, has a successful career, is expecting a child, and has worked through the challenges that led him to contemplate taking his own life. It is easy, particularly in adolescence, to feel overwhelmed—to feel so hopeless that moving on to the next day seems impossible. At Govs, however, we can create a different dynamic. At Govs, we can commit to being there for each other when it matters most. At Govs, we can know that being accountable to each other means asking for help when we need it, and looking out for each other when we see someone who might need a friend. If you ever feel like you can’t see a path forward, know you can reach out to a friend, an advisor, a coach, or one of the counselors here on campus.

My hope for Govs is that we will build a community where nobody feels they have to worry alone. In the quietest, darkest moments, when someone is carrying a weight so heavy that they can’t imagine going on, the simple act of trusting someone enough to ask for help, or asking someone if they are okay, can change everything. Being accountable to each other means keeping each other safe, healthy, and connected. Let’s make Govs a place where everyone feels that they can rely on others—and be there for others—when it matters most. If we can do that, we are going to have an amazing year. 

-Dr. Peter H. Quimby '85, P'14
Head of School