Preparing the Whole Person
July 8, 2013
During the summer weeks, "From the Director" will bring to you some of our favorite entries from previous years. Today's blog first appeared Feb. 15, 2011.
My hope for students is that they have the opportunity to sample the broad buffet that a comprehensive education provides. That they experience both academic and non-academic programs, and both athletic and non-athletic activities. That they are a starter in one and a substitute in another – even a star in one and a scrub in another. That they perform in both team and individual sports, in solo and ensemble, onstage and backstage. And that they experience both winning and losing in generous proportions.
Any student who feasts on most of that menu will be ready for life – ready for life’s ups and downs and all the changes the future will surely bring.
In an address to Catholic school educators in England, Pope John Paul said:
“. . . the task . . . is not simply to impart information or to provide training in skills intended to deliver some economic benefit to society; education is not and must never be considered as purely utilitarian. It is about forming the human person, equipping him or her to live life to the full . . .”
High scores on standardized tests are terrific and training in vocational skills is desirable (I sincerely wish I had scored highly and could make something with my hands). But neither will save the planet.
The best hope we have for securing this planet for the generations who follow is forming the whole human person. And that is much more likely to occur through diverse and deep curricular and extracurricular programs of full-service schools, delivered by passionate educators.
The Limits of Planning
July 27, 2015
Like many Michiganders, I took a summer vacation. And as I always do, I planned the trip thoroughly ... from flights to sights to accommodations to restaurants, but still leaving a few details to spontaneity and serendipity.
This summer's trip was to Newfoundland, where winter was very grudgingly giving up its grip. Everything about summer was slow in coming, and the thousands-of-years-in-the-making icebergs that had drifted down from Greenland were several weeks later than usual to disappear off Newfoundland's coast.
It was a trip that once again reminded me of the limits of planning.
Understand, I am an ardent advocate of planning. First, I am my mother's son who would often say that "Happiness is having a plan." Second, I'm so obsessed with planning that I committed to writing two decades ago what should happen when I die, which actuarial tables inform me should be even longer than two decades in the future.
But once again, all my planning for this vacation failed to provide its best moments. The best accommodation was the one I did not book in advance; the best restaurant was the one I had not heard of before we departed from Michigan; the best iceberg adventure was the one we had on our own after taking a wrong turn, not the commercial tours we took in groups.
Planning is a necessary part of leadership and it is essential for the success of any enterprise. But so is staying open to hunches, going with your gut and learning from mistakes. This often makes for the most memorable vacations as well as the most meaningful vocations.