Hey Nan! I wake up refreshed and ready to go again–a common phenomenon we experienced on the Camino de Santiago two years ago.
Not wanting to be late for my first official appointment, this one at Wilmington Friends School, I leave early. Good thing. The Lower School campus is separate (and further away) than the Middle/Upper School campus. A few more miles get added to my underestimated itinerary for the day. Fire the Itinerary Director! (me).
There is something magic about Friends schools. Of course each institution argues that they’re more Quaker than the others, but that’s all nuance, in my opinion. However, I sense a little apprehension on your part, and then I remember. Schools and schooling were difficult milieus for you, often getting in the way of your education and learning.
We meet Annette Hearing, Lower School Head. The connections between us run deep. Mrs. Hearing was your 5th grade teacher at Shipley. She and I were colleagues at the same school. Later we reunited at Westtown when she became Teacher Annette. She reminds me of another connection we had earlier than that when she sought my advice to help her decide if leaving her former job to teach at Shipley was a good move. Good memory, Annette.
With delicious snacks before us and the comfort of a couch beneath me (a big deal for me), the three Division Heads, Rebecca, Jon, and Annette as well as the two school nurses, Stephanie and Karen, and I gather. We discuss you, your school career, your journey with OCD/BDD, and why mental illness in schools has become so hard for parents, siblings, and the institution to navigate, without even being able to imagine what sufferers like you go through. Why are we so ashamed of brain disorders? Why do we clam up when they happen? Why this veil of secrecy that makes candid communication and effective support for all so challenging?
When Jon asked what advice I would give to schools on the issue, I paused. What an essential question he is asking. If awareness is to grow, then we all need to pay close attention to our students and their behaviors, and we need to talk, talk, and talk. Bring in the experts; learn how to have the difficult conversations; include parents in the dialogue; bring in students if at all appropriate. Mental illness affects everyone who lives in its presence. It certainly affected Judy, Carrie, and me. So much to say that the hour slips away. Thank you, F(f)riends, for welcoming us in.
Leaving the school is like leaving Rivendall in The Hobbit. The beautiful trees, lush greenery, and the deep enchantment of the school grounds evaporate quickly as I walk many miles on Route 2 toward Newark. We pass from paradise to hell with a hint of Limbo in between: too many cars, too much rushing, too much noise, too humid and hot–and 15 miles of it too.
I’m dragging my feet (blisters) so we compromise on today’s segment and skip the last 2 miles. 18 miles for Day 2 will just have to do. The itinerary said 13-miles: fire that Asselin guy! Downtown Newark is experiencing a lovely rebirth, so you and I decide to enjoy it blossoming. Turn off the GPS. I never thought I would call a Super 8 Motel our home sweet home for Day 2.
Sweet dreams, Nathaniel!
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