Shocking retirement revelation 1: Email is no longer important!

It's as if the tap has been turned off... I no longer have any emails that require much attention! Sure, some are interesting, and The Google does a nice job of removing the spam and filtering the Updates from the Promotions. But none require action on my part, which is both delightful and a bit unnerving! For the past 40 years checking emails first thing in the morning reminded me daily of this story about Tommy D'Alesandro, mayor of Baltimore in the late 1960s. He described being mayor thusly: 'Every morning I come into a beautiful City Hall and everyone smiles and greets me, I come into a big beautiful office and sit behind a big impressive desk, and every morning my secretary comes in with a big beautiful silver platter on which is piled a big steaming pile of (poop) that I have to deal with. And the next day the same thing happens, and the next, and the next, and the next.' Morning email was a lot like like... what's on the 'silver platter' for today. But now there are no more silver platters. I don't miss them. 

From June 10, 2021: Thanks for the memories!

 Dear Friends,

What a whirlwind year we have had together! And yet I would not have traded being with you this year for any other adventure I might have undertaken. Getting to know so many terrific kids and teachers, as well as the larger Wye River community, has been a joy, even if far too many of our interactions have been through Zoom windows.

You have at Wye River a generous and kind community that has been welcoming to me throughout these tumultuous months of my brief tenure. Treasure what you have. Keep being kind, and keep being generous, especially to this wonderful school, which deserves your support. And be kind and generous with Mrs. Folarin as she moves Wye River Upper School forward to new heights.

My own plan is to have no plan, at least for the next year, after which we’ll see what adventures beckon. I look forward to joining my faculty colleagues when we open our time capsule in 2046, and watching the Class of 2021 (likely from afar) when they open their covid time-capsule in 2071 at their 50th reunion party!

As I take my leave, I’d like to offer you these closing thoughts from a poem by Maya Angelou which I shared with my colleagues at the beginning and end of this school year. I do hope that you, also, will “Continue.”

With gratitude,

Dave Mullen
Interim Head of School

2020-2021

From June 3, 2021: Cut from the graduation speech

 As I wind up 42 years of teaching here are 42 things I’ve learned… mercifully cut from my graduation talk but now here for posterity. There are a variety of sources, from Plato to Facebook memes to Ed Friedman and a variety of other people I follow.

1. Be kind, for everyone is fighting a battle of which you know nothing.
2. Being enthusiastic is worth 25 IQ points.
3. Being calm in an anxious world is worth another 25.
4. Learn from those you disagree with, even those who offend you. See if you can find some truth in what they believe.
5. Being able to listen well is a superpower.
6. Gratitude is something you can get better at.
7. Treating a person to a meal never fails.
8. Don’t trust all-purpose glue
9. Don’t trust all-purpose anything.
10. Pros are just amateurs who only show their best work
11. Extraordinary claims should require extraordinary evidence.
12. People can only hear you when they’re coming toward you.
13. Don’t be the smartest person in the room. Hang out with people smarter than yourself. Even better, find smart people who will disagree with you.
14. Everyone is shy. Other people are waiting for you to introduce yourself to them, they are even waiting for you to ask them on a date. Go ahead.
15. Perfect is boring. The thing that made you weird as a kid will make you great as an adult, if you can keep it.
16. The purpose of a habit is to remove that action from decision making
17. Promptness is a sign of respect.
18. There is no “them.”
19. The more you are interested in others, the more interesting they’ll find you.
20. Be generous. No one on their deathbed has ever regretted giving too much away.
21. To make something good, just do it. To make something great, re-do it, re-do it, and re-do it.
22. The Golden Rule will never fail you.
23. Wear sunscreen.
24. To make mistakes is human. To own your mistakes is divine. And rare.
25. Never get involved in a land war in the Middle East.
26. Ski lesson applied to life: If you’re not falling down you’re not trying hard enough.
27. Friends are better than money. Almost anything money can do, friends can do better. A friend with a boat is better than owning a boat. (Or at least cheaper).
28. You are what you do. Not what you say you’ll do, not what you believe, not how you vote, not what you’re going to do, but what you actually do.
29. Hatred is a curse that doesn’t really affect the hated. It only poisons the hater. Release grudges as if they were poison.
30. There is no limit on better.
31. When you die you take nothing with you except your reputation. Same for most things.
32. Acquiring things will rarely bring you deep satisfaction. Acquiring experiences will.
33. Floss.
34. When someone is nasty, rude, hateful, or mean to you, pretend they have a disease. That makes it easier to have empathy toward them.
35. What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.
36. There are two kinds of people in the world, those who return their shopping carts and those who don’t.
37. Most overnight successes take at least 5 years.
38. Measure twice, cut once.
39. Conventional wisdom is usually true.
40. Karma exists, be kind and caring.
41. Vaccines don’t contain microchips.
42. We’re here to make a dent in the universe.
43. Seeking happiness is a fool’s quest.
44. Living a life of meaning will result in happiness, and leave the world better.
45. If you don’t have time to do it right, when will you find time to do it over?
46. Being curious is worth 25 IQ points.
47. Read.
48. If a child is old enough to experience racism, their peers are old enough to learn about racism.
49. At 20 you worry what others think about you, at 40 you don’t care what others think about you, at 60 you realize that no one ever was was thinking about you.
50. Create some time for silence to be with yourself every day. You’ll learn a lot.
51. Adventure is better than safety.
52. Over the long term, the future is decided by the courageous.
53. Beware of auto-counting!

IHoS Dave Mullen (with apologies to Plato, Ed Friedman, and others).

From May 27, 2021: Flourishing

 Flourishing

For the past 15 months of covid we’ve all become familiar with the term “languishing,” which aptly describes how many of us felt at various times, particularly in the depths of winter when there seemed little hope that the pandemic would soon end. Now, as the weather warms and we approach 50% vaccination, we can move toward flourishing. To do so may require conscious effort, as outlined both in a recent New York Times article and an Atlantic magazine article. As we head into the extra-long weekend (thanks to our final Snow Day) it’s good to remember that getting back to “normal” will require some time, both physically and emotionally. I hope that you have a restful weekend as we head into the final days of the school year.

From May 20, 2021: STOP@7/11

 STOP @ 7/11

We’ve been working on several mindfulness practices over the past few weeks in order to help us better regulate ourselves in the face of challenges and strong emotions. When faced with anxiety, fear, or anger, our amygdalas often take over, that ancient reptilian part of the brain that floods us with the stress hormone cortisol and creates the fight/flight/freeze response. 

When we can recognize that happening, taking a step back via STOP (Stand or Sit, Tune-in, Observe, Proceed) or a 7/11 (mentally count to 7 on the in-breath, 11 on the out-breath) can give us the space to skillfully respond rather than quickly react. The difference between reacting and responding can make all the difference for teens, teachers, and parents. And it’s always a work in progress, which is why we need to practice. 

Likewise, when we’re enjoying a beautiful day or a fun activity, bringing awareness to the moment and pausing to fully appreciate it can help us to relax and gain some perspective. Coming in the next couple of weeks… FOFBOC and Beditation!

Interim Head of School, Dave Mullen

From May 13, 2021: Jimmy Kraft

My friend Jimmy Kraft died last week. When I wrote about “the fragility of life” a couple of weeks ago, I had no idea that I’d need to revisit the topic so soon. Yesterday I attended Jimmy’s funeral.
People who serve on Boards of Directors of small independent schools are a special breed, willing to dig in and weather the uncertainties, the ups and downs, and the challenges of supporting small fragile enterprises with no guarantees of success. Intensely human enterprises, schools like Nora and Wye River must hold in balance pastoral needs with business requirements. This takes a special person.

Jimmy was one of the handful of people responsible for creating The Nora School as it exists today. About to step down as Board Chair, he was a good and loyal friend, a trusted confidant, and despite his sometimes strong and contrary opinions, incredibly tender-hearted toward the people and institutions he cared about. When Jimmy set his mind on something, he didn’t give up until he got what he needed. I remember him sitting outside my office in the basement of the Washington Ethical Society in 1998 after I said that we had no space for another student. He insisted that we hear Brian’s story, and of course we admitted Brian, who became a terrific member of the school community.

Jimmy joined the Board after Brian graduated, and helped me build both the first and second iterations of The Nora School. From vetting general contractors and architects to overseeing quality control in the construction to investigating financing options, Jimmy always knew a guy who knew a guy, much to the school’s advantage.

In recent years he turned his prodigious energy toward helping his disabled grandson Eli. As he had done with his two adopted sons, he left no stone unturned in his search for those who could offer the best help. Whether it was his family, The Nora School, Woodmont, Jaffe, or his many other endeavors, everyone who came into contact with Jimmy appreciated and was in awe of his caring, thoughtfulness, and most of all, his determination.

Two weeks ago Jimmy was diagnosed with lung cancer. I had no idea he was sick, and due to my conscious decision to stay away from The Nora School we hadn’t spoken much over the past year.
So when you run into a member of the Wye River Board, at graduation or in the supermarket, thank them for the support they have given to Wye River Upper School. Their generosity of talent, time, and treasure have helped to make Wye River the terrific school it is today, housed in a wonderful building with an amazing staff. These things don’t happen by accident, they take hard work and foresight by committed volunteers who hold a vision for a better tomorrow. Their selfless good works are a blessing on our community and on the world.

Interim Head of School, Dave Mullen

From May 6, 2021: Transitions

 May 6, 2021

Transitions

As winter turns to spring, and (over the past week) to summer, so too does school life have “liminal,” or in-between, seasons. These liminal times occur when one thing is ending and something new is coming, but we’re not quite there yet. Our seniors have but two weeks of classes left, then they will leave behind the comforts and certainties of Wye River Upper School and move on to college, jobs, training, and adult life. Their K-12 season ends, the next is not quite born. We say goodbye to a beloved teacher before the school year ends, and welcome a new teacher brimming with enthusiasm and ideas… one season ends a bit prematurely and another begins rather abruptly. Alas, we have but a short liminal season of transition. And then there’s the long liminal season. Even amidst COVID we’ve spent the year crossing a bridge (Dave) between the beloved founder (Chrissy) and the dynamic young educator (Stephanie). It’s been an interesting journey being the liminal bridge, full of challenges, to be sure, but full of excitement for the future and appreciation for the past. It seems, in hindsight, odd to have consciously chosen to be in the center of liminality for an extended time, but I cannot think of a better way to have spent this past year.

So as we experience the discomfort and unsettledness of these liminal seasons, let’s celebrate how far we have come, how much we’ve done, and how we’ve grown in so many ways through this season of uncertainty and change. As Lao Tzu said 2500 years ago, “the journey is the reward,” and the more we can grow comfortable with that notion, especially in these times, the better we’ll be able to weather them.

Interim Head of School, Dave Mullen

From April 28, 2021: On the fragility of life

 April 28, 2021
On the fragility of life

We’ve spent more than 13 months contemplating our own and our loved ones’ mortality. With 1 of every 560 Americans having died of COVID over the past year, and one of every 10 having contracted the disease, it has been a fearful time. And yet, as life returns to normal, terrible and distressing things continue to happen. Whether through accident or anger, loved ones can quickly find themselves in circumstances beyond their control. So we grieve, with one of our students who lost his mother this past week. And we hug our kids a little bit tighter, and we try to make sense of a sometimes senseless world. A world that doesn’t always provide answers, but can provide a caring community to help console our hearts. As Plato said, “be kind, for everyone is fighting a battle of which you know nothing.” Sometimes that’s all we can do.

Interim Head of School, Dave Mullen

Wye River Currents, April 19, 2021

 April 19th, 2021

It has been a terrific first week of full-on in-person learning this week at Wye River Upper School. While we are sympathetic to those who cannot join us in person, spirits are light as we hear Geneya singing John Lennon in gym, see Andrew pumping iron at The Y, listen to Chris and Alexandra chatter about the osprey nest on Chesterfield Ave., watch Davin and Garrett running along Mill Creek, and hear Adon’s tenor sax as he records in the gym. Athletics and activities are in full swing and we’re getting ready for a hybrid Art and Music Expo.

No, it’s not as terrific as April 2019, but it’s a whole lot better than April 2020. And just wait until April 2022!

Now that anyone who is 16 or older can get vaccinated, we’re seeing many students join the faculty and staff among the “jabbed.” We’ll continue with pool testing, masks, hand washing and sanitizing, and social distancing at least through this school year, and will determine what precautions still need to be in place given guidelines from the state and the CDC when August rolls around. In the meantime, we’re going to enjoy having those students who can be with us in person and keep those who can’t, in the loop. I can’t wait to see things take off next fall, even if from afar!

Interim Head of School, Dave Mullen

Wye River Currents, April 14, 2021

Wye River Currents, April 14, 2021 

Welcome to our inaugural blog, in which your friendly neighborhood Head of School will offer thoughts and reflections on life at Wye River Upper School and other random notions. From now through June, Dave will be writing, and beginning in July you’ll hear from Stephanie on a semi-regular basis.
In some ways we’re asking ourselves to do what we’re asking our students to do, reflect on what’s going on in our lives and our communities in a way that offers insight to (hopefully) others, and to ourselves. Writing is a discipline and a practice, much like playing the guitar, golfing, or meditating. The more we do it the better we’ll get at it, and like those other practices there is no “arrival” point… we can always improve. Indeed, as with many of life’s important endeavors, it’s helpful to treat the journey as the reward.
We call this blog “Currents” because, just as in the real Wye River, at Wye River Upper School there’s a lot happening below the surface that can’t be seen. As teachers, the seeds we plant often don’t bloom until long after students have left us. Yet those seeds are growing, those currents are moving, under the surface, and the effect is profound. It’s helpful for me to remember that we are but one step on their journey of life, an important one, but not the final one.
We may invite other members of the school community to share this blog as time goes on, to celebrate the work our students and teachers are doing. This is a magnificent school, and as we go through another transition in the midst of a pandemic, there is much upon which to reflect.
Constructive feedback is always welcome as we undertake this blogging journey. Kudos are welcome, civil debate is fine, harsh criticism should be sent via private email to the author. We hope you enjoy the journey.

Interim Head of School, Dave Mullen

From Sept. 14, 2020: Happy Labor Day!

 

Happy Labor Day!

September 14, 2020

It is with a great deal of gratitude that we arrive at Labor Day weekend, the unofficial end of summer. Why be grateful that summer is over? Perhaps we can just be grateful that THIS summer is over. 

It's been a summer unlike any other in my 30 years of school leadership. As with most in my profession, these past months have been filled with finding PPEs, cleaning companies, electrostatic sprayers, moving desks, upgrading HVAC systems, researching room air filters, following the Centers for Disease Control and state and local health departments for ever changing guidance, talking with parents who don't want their children coming to school, talking with parents who want their child to come to school every day, upgrading internet infrastructure, interviewing prospective families looking for a better match, planning online and hybrid classes, sorting out transportation... and on and on. 

I'm blessed to be working in a school with a talented and committed group of educators who have stepped in and handled challenges every step of the way. It truly takes a village, even before students arrive, to prepare, and this is a tremendous village. Now that some students have arrived on campus the year begins to feel like what will pass for "normal," and having adolescent energy in the building picks up everyone's spirits, even as we continue to worry about health and social distancing. 

But Labor Day brings the end of planning and anticipation and the beginning of execution and refinement. So take a breath over these three days, enjoy what promises to be a lovely weekend, even if only sitting outside the front door. There's enough to be anxious about come next Tuesday, give yourself a respite over these next few days. Be grateful for nice weather, be grateful for your health, be grateful for a school community that cares, be grateful that we live in an era when distance learning is possible, be grateful for your children (and students, be grateful for your parents). 

I hope that you have a restful weekend.

From Sept. 14, 2020: Generative mindsets

 Generative mindsets

September 14, 2020

I had tears in my eyes last Friday as I sat in on our 21C meetings that Mr. Cowan, Ms. Sophocles, and Mr. Martinez were holding with students. After six months of reacting to covid, and all the attendant planning necessary to get the school year underway, it was moving to see students and teachers being generative and forward looking in their conversations. We’ve had to be far too reactive over these past six months, sadly; it was exciting to see the possibilities of being proactive in the months ahead. Education is, or ought to be, a generative exercise, and young people should be looking forward rather than backward. While our current circumstances have caused us to be looking over our shoulders for the past six months, a new school year, a hybrid schedule, and 21C projects give us encouragement that the future is brighter our past.

From Sept. 1, 2020: Another First Day of School

 

Another First Day of School

 

September 1, 2020

This week marked my 58th first day of school. I have no recollection of my emotions in the fall of 1962, walking into Warrendale Elementary School, nor many of the later first days from first grade through high school. I imagine that some were filled with hopes and expectations, others with nervousness, particularly as hormones rose through adolescence, and I fell in love with various classmates. College was eye-opening in so many ways, but my most visceral memories of college revolve around dropping off my own children, and dealing with that rite of passage as a parent. None moved into their dorm without my tearing up. I recall my own parents bravely holding back tears as I headed to Washington DC to begin my teaching career in the summer of 1979. I wish I'd asked them about those emotions, but perhaps we all need to experience that sense of loss for ourselves.

After college there were 11 years of the first day of teaching, followed by 30 years as a Head of School. There were butterflies in most of those years, sometimes mixed with sadness, and sometimes with joy. This year, strangely, there has been less anxiety, despite working in a new school as an Interim Head, with colleagues, parents, and students I don't know, and a pandemic raging outside our walls. Perhaps it's due to the furious paddling we've been doing since school ended in June, getting ready for all online, or partially online/partially in person, or all in person school. There's nothing like being busy to take your mind off your troubles!

Or perhaps my mindfulness practice is paying off.

Some students returned to the building this week, in small cohorts, while others will be online full-time. They seem happy to be back, many haven't seen each other beyond screens since March. Having some regularity to the day seems to help everyone as we go through setting up Google Meets and fashioning egg-drop challenges and learning new ways of navigating the building to maintain physical distance. The last will likely be the biggest difficulty, as the natural exuberance of adolescence quickly overtakes the caution we need to exercise, so the year looks to include constant reminders to make space. 

It's nice to have teen spirit back inside the walls, as a school devoid of students is far too silent and listless. Remind me that I wrote that last sentence when June rolls around, as I'll no doubt be ready, once again, for a period of silent and listless. For now though, we forge ahead with Algebra and Makerspace and Musical Theater, enjoying the mysterious process of growing up in a strange world that is daily being reborn.

From August 10, 2020: Problems vs. Dilemmas during COVID

Our world is being torn up, much as the yard in our Makerspace, which are related in unhappy ways. We're tearing up and regrading the Makerspace yard so that we can use it for outdoor classrooms, which is a problem solved. We need outdoor classrooms with lots of ventilation, we spend money and work to solve the problem. Or at least that problem. The larger problem is what's causing us to do this, the spread of COVID-19 throughout the state and country, which has not been solved. While many are spending money and working hard to solve this problem, efforts to control the virus have been disjointed and erratic, leaving us not much better off than we were last spring. Thus the dilemma that school leaders find themselves trying to manage, how to meet the needs of students, teachers, families, and our communities. Dilemmas don't have solutions, they must be managed, coped with, wrestled, worked around, lived through. Competing interests, competing goods, valid viewpoints abound. There is no right answer, there are many right answers, there are many wrong answers. We're faced with a 4-D decision making matrix: safety of students, safety of teachers, social emotional health of students, workload of teachers, community spread, cleaning protocols, physical distance in classrooms, wearing masks for hours, good ventilation, air filtration, physical activity, fast internet access, chronic health problems, child care issues, county guidance, state guidance... and the 4th dimension, the 7-day and 14-day rolling averages of cases per 100,000 residents in the community, and the percentage of positive cases in the community.

Problems have solutions, dilemmas must be coped with. There are no "right" answers, just various degrees of responses. Six months into this pandemic so much is uncertain, we need to give each other, and ourselves, a great deal of grace in the months ahead. 

Wrapping things up

 What a year! As I wrap up my year as Interim Head at Wye River Upper School and head into retirement, I've changed the name of the blog where I may (or may not) continue to post. For the next several days I'll re-post some writing done as we rebooted the Wye River blog earlier this spring. My fantastic successor, Stephanie Folarin, will be taking over that blog on July 1, and I look forward to watching from afar.

Why do we have a Head's Holiday?

The genesis of the Head's Holiday can be found in the early 1960s when I was growing up in Massachusetts. Back then, and still today, the schools had a week-long break following Presidents' Day (then known as Washington's Birthday, and not always on a Monday). I missed that holiday when I began teaching in Maryland lo those many decades ago, and when I got to be in charge it seemed a good idea to bring back at least a piece of my childhood to share with my beautiful students. This may be the one decision I've made that no student or teacher has ever complained about! It not only gives us a nice little mid-winter break, but allows the opportunity to have a ski trip with the slopes virtually to ourselves. Enjoy!

Why we hike the Billy Goat Trail

We begin each year with a vigorous hike along the Billy Goat Trail so that our entire community goes into the second week of classes having had a common experience, for good or ill. We hope that it's fun, that it's challenging, that it stretches everyone a bit beyond their comfort level. We hope that they're amazed that a place so similar to Montana is but a few miles from DC. We hope that they feel a sense of accomplishment. We hope that they learn that to take on difficulties and persevere. We hope that they'll find a lifelong activity, walking in nature. We hope that they support each other over the tricky parts (especially the cliff). We hope that they'll gripe and grumble and yet love what they did. We hope that they see the parallels to school and life and can draw on this confidence in the year ahead.