FROM THE HEADMASTER’S DESK
April 2008

It has been too long since I’ve written an issue of the
Headmaster’s Desk. For regular readers of this occasional newsletter I tender my sincere apologies. A year has rushed by since the last edition and that is much too long… especially in these times of rapid change here at Verde Valley School. It would be easy to blame my amazingly busy schedule for the long lapse; the list of tasks to be accomplished each day seems to get longer, not shorter. But that is “the nature of the beast” and no excuses!
Mea culpa.
But it is interesting to me how the role of the headmaster has changed over the years. In his famous book
The Headmaster, John McPhee describes the archetypal headmaster, Frank Boyden, who led Deerfield Academy from a modest, struggling boarding school in rural Massachusetts to become one of the most respected schools in the world. For better or for worse, the image – and myth – of Frank Boyden lingers clearly in the collective consciousness of my fellow heads of school and me. Boyden was one of the best that ever was in this business. His headship occurred during the “golden age” of American boarding schools. His own success paralleled that of his beloved Deerfield and other boarding schools nationwide.
Frank Boyden, as portrayed by John McPhee, was a real “school man.” By that I mean to say that he understood the fabric and the substance of kids, of teachers, and of schools. He knew about the importance of community, but knew that nothing trumped the relationship with the individual student. Far ahead of his time, he recognized that boarding students need the connection of a significant adult in their school lives. He relied upon his faculty to provide that connection, of course, but also filled that role personally as well to the extent that he could with his busy schedule. He coached football, walked the campus, warmly greeting everyone he encountered, took meals in the dining room with the students, and worked hard to remain connected to the school that he led. He regularly counseled individual students and teachers, and truly wanted each to succeed.
But he also knew that leadership was not friendship. He did not shy away from the responsibilities of his position. He sternly reprimanded the boys (and the occasional faculty member) who had stepped out of bounds. He summarily dismissed students and teachers who did not live up to the expectations he had for them and for Deerfield. And while he led Deerfield to become one of the world’s pre-eminent schools, some felt that he isolated himself from the community that he led.
Frank Boyden spent a good deal of time raising money. That is one of the ways in which Deerfield became the great school that it is. Many mornings, after the daily morning meeting (that is a staple in most boarding schools to this day) and an hour or so dictating letters to his secretary, a driver would appear in front of the headmaster’s office, and Boyden would be whisked away to a New York or Boston luncheon. These were not purely social events, although Boyden was as comfortable in the board room as he was on the football field or in the classroom. Rather, they were fundraising meetings. Boyden routinely rang up Deerfield alumni and asked them to lunch. No one doubted the purpose of those meetings. Every accepted invitation implied a substantial check to be written as a gift to the school. And Deerfield boys were loath to refuse a Frank Boyden invitation. Such was the insistence of noblesse oblige.
The headmaster’s role certainly has changed over the years. While many of the same trappings exist for many of us in the school leadership profession, few enjoy the privilege which Boyden took advantage of so well. School life is not nearly so orderly and predictable. Students’ (and their parents’) needs have changed and they have gotten more complicated and demanding on schools. Our society has become immeasurably more litigious, and caution rather than élan dictates much of what we do. Oftentimes I’m asked why boarding schools are so much more expensive than they used to be, and why tuition rates grow faster than the rate of inflation. In large part it is because we are asked to do more – every day – to meet the present and emerging needs of our students. Let me give you an example…
During Boyden’s heyday (and for a small group of top-tier boarding schools in the US today), enrollment was (and is) not an issue. There were far more applicants than there were available spots in the school. The admission process worked like a filter. And the headmaster handled it all with his secretary providing clerical support. Relevant criteria: son (or daughter) of an alumnus? Strong academic record and recommendations? Athletic ability that will bring recognition to the school? Demonstrated character that will bring honor to the school? Family in a position of power, influence and capacity to not only pay the not-insignificant tuition but make substantial gifts to the school? Fine – accepted. If there were any mistakes or slip-ups, dismissed. Many more kids sat in the wings to fill available spots.
This may be a harsh assessment, perhaps, but not an entirely hyperbolized one.
Now today at VVS…recruiting top candidates – mission-appropriate candidates – is a much more complicated and less-assured metric. There is no doubt that there are ample students in the world who are perfect candidates for admission to VVS. But they largely do not know about VVS! We do not have Boyden’s admirable pool of legacy candidates (children of alumni) lining up for admission. These days, most boarding school students’ parents did not attend boarding schools themselves – a significant departure from earlier decades. As often as not, candidates seeking admission are also seeking significant levels of financial aid. They are – increasingly – applying to VVS for the right reasons: the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme; the international student body; a superb academic preparation for college and beyond; and an abiding sense of what the IBO calls “international-mindedness,” i.e., a critical and engaging commitment to globalism and ethics-based social relativism.
These applicants are most assuredly not lining up for interviews down the length of Verde Valley School Road! They must be sought, cultivated, encouraged to investigate this unique institution in the red rocks of Arizona. And that takes a significant –and expensive – effort.
I could give many more examples of how boarding schools are simply more expensive places than they used to be because program and fixed costs are much more expensive (think electricity and fuel.). I could tell you how starting teachers in boarding schools received on average $5,000 per year in the mid 1970’s, and I could challenge any reader to recruit a highly qualified teacher today for a salary that was similar in constant dollars. And then there is the inevitable question of affordability. Of course, this was not an issue for Frank Boyden, whose school devoted itself to the education of, as former St. Paul’s Headmaster David Hicks wrote in his insightful essay,
The Strange Fate of the American Boarding School, “an unselfish and virtuous elite for positions of influence and leadership.” But for Verde Valley School in 2008 the affordability question is a significant one, and it will be for the foreseeable future.
That is why the land transaction which our Board of Trustees recently completed is so important. The income that will be derived from the long-term lease of part of our campus will be the equivalent of that which we would derive each year from a $30 million dollar endowment. Frank Boyden led Deerfield for 66 years, and during that time the school’s endowment increased many fold. (Deerfield’s endowment today is reported as $375 million, or $630,000 per student.) That was his legacy.
What endowment did for Deerfield, and what our lease will do for VVS, is to allow it the luxury of providing enough financial aid for deserving students of promise and character – enough financial aid to make the admission process virtually “need-blind.” If you have the talents and the character and the predilection for world citizenship to get into VVS, we’ll make it affordable. And that will be our legacy.
I am writing this newsletter from 32,000 feet aboard a flight to Seoul where I will be having dinner with a group of parents of our Korean students. A long way to go for dinner. Boyden only had to go as far as Manhattan!
But Verde Valley is an international school and this year we have a record number of students from Korea, which has displaced Germany as the number one source for VVS’ international students. This trip is to meet with the parents of our Korean students, giving progress reports on each, and seeking support for the school. This is a great honor for me, for I am humbled by the trust given to us when parents send their children half-way around the world to our school.
A thirteen-hour plane ride affords time for quiet thought – a precious commodity these days – and I am struck by another change since the days of Frank Boyden: the relentless pace of school life and the lack of time for regular, proper reflection. If you can imagine a polar scale, with reflection on one end, pro-action in the center, and reaction at the other end, it seems that headmasters spend more time on the reactive end than we would like – or than is desirable from an institutional point of view. The head’s job is to provide “big picture” strategic thinking, which requires significant and deep thought. And that sadly occurs less and less when crisis and turmoil hold sway.
Our school has undergone a remarkable amount of change over the past several years. Some have responded well and risen to the challenge. Some have not. Some have seen the changes as threats to the comfortable (for them) status quo, without regard for long-term institutional imperatives. And a few have allowed their fear of change to limit their imaginations.
But change we must and change we will – always with an eye to the original purpose to promote intercultural understanding and world citizenship, while preparing the next generation to assume positions of positive, ethical leadership. This is the jewel in the crown - the mission. It was and remains the litmus test for everything we do. This does not mean that we are absolutists… purists. Compromises must and will be made. But it does mean that we must stay true to the central vision and do our best to fulfill it each day. And that is hard to do when necessary change causes turmoil and upset.
One student saddened me greatly recently when, in the heat of adolescent righteous indignation, she announced that she would prefer to see the school die rather than change. I resisted the temptation to argue because that mode of thought cannot be argued with. It springs from blind faith rather than logic. More importantly, it indicates a failure of imagination. Consider the possibility that a future VVS could be better than the present VVS. Denying that abdicates our collective responsibility to preserve that which is essential about this school for future generations… that is to teach. Our role is to educate, in ways that remain relevant in a changing world, yet consistent with the school’s founding charter. Like Frank Boyden himself, we are all responsible for building a sustaining endowment – a legacy of good will and support for the perpetual health of Verde Valley School.
This is the work we do at VVS. We work with our intellects and our hands, with our hearts and with great physical effort.
I have been thinking a lot about hands recently. A few weeks ago, during one of the art history classes I teach as part of the IB HL Visual Arts class, I was struck by a simple hand gesture that was the focal point of a marvelous Romanesque sculpture of St. Paul. I had the pleasure to discover this sculpture a couple of summers ago while in Europe with my wife Dale. We were roaming through the Musée de Notre-Dame-en-Vaux, in the Champagne region of France, when we happened upon this wonderful little statue that I photographed and have included in my classes ever since.
Saint Paul holds his right hand near his chest in a quiet gesture of greeting… something between a formal salutation and a casual “snapshot” of a hand captured in mid-movement. The hand seems to be unfolding slightly, like a flower in the morning sunlight, reflecting the evolving, growing faith of the believers. To me this gesture greets and beckons, hinting at life beyond the present world. It is a hand that has worked, borne the insults of injury, and nevertheless finds the grace to invite the faithful to imagine that which is possible if not apparent. Not content with being, it calls us to become.
Over dinner a couple of years ago my sister told me that I have our father’s hands. That comment surprised me and touched me deeply. Our dad had just passed away after a long bout with Alzheimer’s disease and our entire family was struggling to come to grips with his death. I had never noticed the likeness my sister had observed. But somehow, through the insistence of heredity, I carry some essence of my father’s hands into the future. This made sense to me – then and now – and to this day I cannot look at my own hands without thinking of my dear father.
Our hands tell the stories of our lives and the lives of our parents. Like Saint Paul, they suffer through the abuse of labor and yet retain the capacity to delight us with their expressive grace. They may be weathered and callused, but they are capable of the most divine gestures. They are the visible reminders of our heritage and our promise. Like education, they look to the past, to the present, and to the future. Like music, they depend upon memory, perception, and anticipation. They – and we – are in the constant state of “becoming.” Just like Verde Valley School
I believe this is good work we do. Whether it is teaching a class, cleaning a room, coaching a sport, weeding a garden, grading a test, or building a stone wall. We build … a school…a campus … community …for yesterday, today and tomorrow.
I invite you to join me in this good work.