Last week, I wandered into Mrs. Lisa Henry’s preschool class to see what they were up to.  The students were all engaged in different activities, rotating from one area of the room to another when instructed to do so as part of their morning routine.  One young man was hard at work, assembling a Lego structure which looked remarkably like the Parthenon.  I was impressed with his careful attention to the task, as well as his Vitruvian appreciation for symmetry, order, arrangement, eurythmy, propriety, and economy.  I mentioned this to Miss Lisa, and promised to return in a few days with an image of the Parthenon to share.

A few days later I returned, iPad in hand, having prepared a short mini-lecture on the aesthetic significance of the Parthenon, the quality of which was befitting a Headmaster who wished for students to develop an appreciation for the pursuit of learning.  Miss Lisa summoned the student, who obediently left his latest Lego creation to hear what I had to say.  The conversation went something like this:

ME: “Do you remember the Lego building that you made the other day?”

STUDENT: “Yes.”

ME: “Do you remember how I told  you that it reminded me of the Parthenon?”

STUDENT: Yes.

ME:  “Here is a picture of the Parthenon.”  (I hold up my iPad; the student looks at the picture in silence while I continue…) “The Parthenon was built in… ” etc. etc. insert several more sentences of facts about the Parthenon that I have since neglected to remember.

STUDENT: “May I go back and play with Legos now?”

I hope that one day, perhaps in a few decades, as the student is collecting his International Architecture Award for his latest grand creation, his speech will include mention of the day when his Headmaster came into his preschool classroom to speak to him about the Parthenon, and he was so moved and inspired was that, at that instant, he resolved to devote his life to the pursuit of architectural excellence.  I somehow doubt that this will happen, though.  It was a good reminder to me that the so-called “teachable moment” -  that opportunity for formal “education” on this or that topic which happens without being planned - is difficult to execute as a contrivance.  Said differently: playing with Legos is better than just about anything else, especially for a preschool boy, no matter how interesting the Headmaster thinks the Parthenon is.  

The “tradition” of Morning Assembly at Valwood School - at least as it is presently constituted - began when I arrived.  I became attached to the practice of a daily meeting with all Middle School and Upper School students when circumstances left me no alternative (the remnants of Hurricane Frances having left much of metro Atlanta without power only an hour or so before the first day of school in 2004; I was Headmaster at Holy Spirit Preparatory School in Sandy Springs at the time, and was doing my best to open a brand-new campus that day without a public address system to provide guidance and direction to faculty and students) and I have since been convinced that it is the best way for an independent school Headmaster to start the school day.  Morning Assembly provides me with an opportunity to become familiar to students, via the 10 minutes of time that I have to share with them.  Some mornings are focused on particular historical or current events which are noteworthy for one reason or another, while other mornings are dedicated to highlighting outstanding achievement by a Valwood student, addressing “nuts and bolts” issues associated with maintaining the desired school environment, or commenting on some matter which deserves our collective time and attention.  It is my favorite part of the day.

The doors to Rodgers Performance Hall are open every morning at 7:40 AM as we gather for Morning Assembly.  You are welcome to join us on any day which is convenient for you.

Yesterday we opened the 2012-2013 school year with our traditional convocation ceremony.  This is what I said last year about convocation:

Convocation is an English noun which is derived from the Latin words voca, meaning voice, and con, meaning together.  To convoke (the seldom used verb form of the word convocation) means to call together.  This is different from provoke, which means to incite, or evoke, which means to suggest, or invoke, which means to appeal, even though all four words share the same Latin root, voca, and each involves calling or speaking – albeit for different purposes.  A convocation is a calling together, and that is what we are doing on this first day - calling together all students, faculty, staff, alumni, parents, trustees, and friends of Valwood School in celebration.

It was a pleasure to introduce the Valwood School Class of 2013 (who did not so much agree to take a photo with me as they instead politely refrained from objecting when I found a place for myself amongst them) and it was equally satisfying to introduce our kindergarten students, who comprise the Valwood School Class of 2025.  That the year 2025 is now on our institutional radar screen is hard to believe, but true.

Welcome back!