Dear Boundless Families:
I have never been so gratified to have road dust back. Summer unexpectedly paid a visit three days ago and we’ve been dry as a bone. The kids are slowly turning brown, the air is exquisite and its odour makes you yearn to be young again.
I’ve been sauntering around having the the most random conversations with the English students. Here’s one that stood out.
One young man with the face of an angel plops himself beside me on the screened in porch.
“With a face like yours”, I quip, “you must be the essence of pure goodness”. My irony is not lost on the lad.
He quickly reproaches me, and with his a sardonic smile responds,
“Ya, I’m a perfect angel” Then his grin fades and he adds, “Actually, no, I can be nasty”. he means it and I am taken aback.
He then goes on to describe some details of his life at home. He has much to navigate.
“How is it then”, I inquire, “that you are so divinely behaved up here”? He knows my perplexity is sincere.
Stealing a page right out of a Tony Robbin’s seminar, he proudly asserts, “I am a better version of myself”.
I believe him. There is an awakening happening with him that makes me go silent. I wonder how this can be.
Perhaps it’s the fact that 60% of the english class are grade 12 kids who have arrived here meaning business and ready to work. The other 40%, half of whom themselves are dedicated students, are swept away by the work ethic.
Then there are the six girls in the cohort, each more talented and impressive than the next. No mean-girl nonsense with these 6. They are thick as thieves and elevate the maturity of the rest of group.
People are simply being good to each other, and working together.
So all this is rubbing off on the boy. He is old enough to get it. Two year’s ago he wasn’t, so he is maturing before our very eyes.
The English curriculum itself isn’t’ hurting the cause either. In the last two days alone, your kids did a “Local Legends” road trip, meeting various characters who told stories in their great oral tradition. The students then had to practice their own oral tradition and told their own captivating stories.
They then wrote their own short stories, and are currently collaborating with their peers and turning them to film.
As to the outdoor crew, we have received no calls, so we know they have mastered the first half of the river which was no easy feat. I join them tomorrow night and part of Saturday to lead them down the harrowing Red-Pine Rapids stretch, a chain of rapids that equate to sheer madness at these high water levels.
I shall bring chocolate with me, a shameless bribe for the kids to open their hearts to a bald guy their dad’s age.
Things are wonderful up here.
I’ll write again on Sunday or Monday.