The Thanksgiving Assembly is a beloved Berkeley Carroll tradition as it is the only occasion during the academic year when all three divisions convene in one place. This gathering offers us an opportunity to express gratitude as individuals and as a community for the many gifts that we receive throughout the year, both at school and in our lives beyond BC. 

Earlier this afternoon, we gathered as “One BC” representing the Lower School, Middle School, and Upper School, to show appreciation for the speakers, musicians, and singers who prepared prose and performances. Together, we gave thanks for the friends who we count on to share a laugh or lend a hand, as well as for the teachers who challenge us to reach new heights and who are there to lift us up if ever we falter. I am tremendously grateful for our students, faculty, staff, and BC families, who show care and kindness while building a collaborative and resilient community each day. 

At the assembly, we heard eloquent remarks from students Kallie S. '33, Gwendolyn L. '29, and Soraya G. '26 as well as the inspiring words of Physical Education Teacher, Coach, and Advisor Stephanie Ryan. We also enjoyed musical performances from the MS and US Choir as well as from the Third Grade Chorus, who led us in singing BC’s traditional “Thank You” song.

During my welcome, I shared some ruminations about what thoughts of collaboration and resilience call to mind for me. I spoke about the Boat Study and Launch project that our first graders have undertaken over the years. 

The shipwrights in Berkeley Carroll’s first grade are very deliberate artisans. Before constructing their vessels, each team develops its technical knowledge, studying buoyancy, density, and related concepts in class. They apply this knowledge, collaborating to test materials, create a design, and build a boat that, if all goes according to plan, will prove sea worthy when launched in our swimming pool. 

The first time that I was invited by the first graders to witness the Boat Launch, I was excited to see the product of their study and handiwork. I was also surprised. Entering the Athletic Center, I expected to encounter a flotilla of modestly sized vessels, perhaps slightly larger than the remote controlled model yachts that sail in various urban parks. Instead, there were three boats, carefully crafted from various repurposed materials, including empty bottles and, of course, duct tape. I could see the expertise and care that went into these boats–a manifestation of the importance to the whole of each and every component.  

Even more surprising than the size of these three vessels was the fact that each boat was to support a full grown and very brave teacher, who would paddle the length of the pool. 

Asked if I might like to pilot one of the boats, I replied that my best service to BC would be cheering from the sidelines while remaining nice and dry. You see, my school had no pool and my classmates and I did not have the benefit of swim classes until we were bussed to the Y in middle school. Sadly, we spent most of the time practicing our strokes by the side of the pool and, when we were allowed in the water, we were forbidden to remove our flotation devices. We never had the opportunity to apply the technique in the pool that we practiced so extensively on dry land. Essentially, this way of teaching guaranteed that we would NOT learn to swim. It was not until adulthood that I gained basic proficiency and, while I managed to pass my swim final (after two tries), I would tend to shy away from playing skipper.

And rightly so for, as is the way of science and design, not every idea proves sound and neither is every boat bound to make it across the open main of the BC swimming pool intact. 

I recall one of our brave teachers, whose boat was listing precariously and kept spilling her into the water as the other craft progressed steadily to the other side of the pool. Undaunted, she eventually jumped into the water and, using the boat like a kick board, she propelled it toward the finish line to the wild cheers of everyone gathered on the pool deck. Modeling the resilience referenced in our Portrait of a Learner, this teacher demonstrated how one might “try again another way,” heightening the sense of accomplishment steeped in hard work and pure delight that were on display that day.

Reflecting on the Boat Launch, I am proud that Berkeley Carroll is a school where process is prioritized alongside outcomes—that we are a school where opportunities are created for students and teachers to collaborate around authentic demonstrations of deep learning.

I am also pleased that this learning occurs in a pluralistic and multifaceted community where students and adults from myriad backgrounds and with different interests arrive each day, aiming to live and learn in a rigorous, inclusive, and transformative community. This is a complex and all too rare undertaking, requiring the tenacity and resilience displayed by our first grade shipwrights and their teachers. This endeavor can sometimes be difficult but it is always inspiring. It would have us understand, like our boatbuilders, the importance to the whole of each component part—of each one of us. 

And so lastly, I am thankful that our school is a place where we can put this work to the test, challenging ourselves, buoying each other, and propelling Berkeley Carroll forward.

Wishing you and your loved ones a wonderful break.