As I sit here to type I find myself at a loss for words. (If you have missed the recent happenings, you should check out Sheryl Johnson's recent notes.)
The Governor's School for the Visual and Performing Arts and Humanities as we know it has come to an end. And I regretfully acknowledge that it cannot and will not ever be replicated. And yet I remind you that GOVERNOR"S SCHOOL is not a name, it is not a school, and it is not a month. Governor's school is a community. That community is us: the faculty, the RAs, the support staff, and the students. WE are governor's school. Without us, governor's school ceases to exist.
Though Radford will have a program this July, the faculty, staff, and students will be not be attending governor's school (though they will refer to their program by this name). They will make new friends, go to class, attend activities, and probably have a good summer (even if we don't want to admit it). But they won't have attended governor's school. (And my guess is they won't have much trouble explaining what they did during that month.)
As I read the facebook statuses bidding farewell to governor's school, I thought back to the speech I gave at the Closing Ceremonies in 2008. In that speech (which I have reposted below) I said, "Governor’s school is not an experience that ends here. It continues in the relationships and changes that have started this month." Though Governor's School as we know it has come to an end, it is my genuine hope that we will let it live on.
No one leaves governor's school untouched by it's magic. It becomes a part of us. In some small or large way it has made us who we are. And as a result, we carry governor's school with us. So I won't say goodbye, instead I say thank you for being a part of something that will stay with me forever. Thank you for being governor's school.
...I Still Don't Know...
See governor’s school has changed me and I didn’t even notice it occurring. I don’t know when or how…I just know it happened. That’s what this month has been about-change. The people, events, and questions that you have been met with this month have or will in some way alter your life. Some of you are already aware of this transformation…but some of you (like me) will realize this change years from now.
Though you came to governor’s school 4 weeks ago with expectations for this program, there is no way you could have predicted what you have found.
As you pulled up RAs in ugly blue shirts ordered you to put the ridiculous amount of stuff you packed on the grass and move your cars immediately to a parking lot that was just “down the road”….if you take a right, a right, and another right. You waited in lines that stretched out the door in the humid summer heat and began to study and perhaps label each of the persons you saw. Little did you know that the guy standing behind you was your roommate. You had no idea that the girl opening the door for you would soon become one of your best friends. And you had only hoped that the guy in the elevator would be the guy you spent last night dancing with.
On the first day as you gathered on your halls, most of which lacked air conditioning, and sat through meetings that went on and on and on, you wondered if you’d made a huge mistake. You questioned why you had handed over your cell phone and turned down those carefree days with your friends by the pool or that annual trip to the beach in exchange for school during the summer. Now, you’re wondering where 4 weeks went.
Inevitably, when you return home you’ll be asked to explain those weeks. “What did you do this summer?” “What is Governor’s School?” You’ll stand there for a moment not knowing exactly how to answer. How do you explain this experience through words? I can honestly tell you that after 5 years of answering those questions, I still find myself struggling to find a way to respond. This month cannot be explained. Governor’s school cannot be expressed; it must be experienced.
When you return home you’ll try to explain what flashmobbing is and why it really was cool when several hundred people stopped in the middle of a park to point at an imaginary object in the sky. Your friends won’t understand when you shout “group” to your fellow classmates while walking down the hall at your home school. You’ll attempt to explain how you became sheet ningas, thundercats, double d’s, A one-ders, or members of the C-squad. You will reminisce about movie nights, your Hard Knock Life in the nunnery, living in the basement, playing endless games of risk, and creating hostage situations with Chinese food, snakes, and praying mantises. You’ll tell stories or pull up one of the thousands of photographs Big D took, but words and pictures can’t express what WE know.
When I came to the Governor’s School 5 summers ago I had certain expectations for the program. I thought I’d find the introverted scholars, the extroverted actors, the quiet musicians, the confident vocalists, the weird artists, and the serious dancers. What I’ve found is a place where those stereotypes and walls have melted away and 450 people have come together on this last day as one, one family, one GROUP.
As a group we’ve shared in tears, arguments, and laughter. We’ve seen each other at our worst and at our best. We’ve divulged our secrets and greatest fears. We’ve made ourselves vulnerable and have learned from one another. The mosaic that is the faculty, staff, and students is why I can speak in front of you today. Because you accept me as I am. It is only now that I realize I am not an introverted dancer, but a member of this GROUP. It is through this realization that I am finally beginning to understand why I love this program so much.
Recently a fellow RA and I were discussing how amazing you-the students of governor’s school- are and she asked me, “Do you ever wish that you were their age so you could be friends with them?” I responded, “NO!...But I wish they were my age”. I responded jokingly, but our conversation speaks to a very important Governor’s School truth. This is a place where unlikely connections and friendships are made. In this program we are all teachers and we are all students.
You don’t know this yet, but I have learned from my former students that you will keep in touch with your new friends-the students, the faculty and the staff of governor’s school beyond your high school years. Many of you will attend college together, be roommates, and have reunions years from now. In fact many of you will continue to be friends for years to come. Governor’s school is not an experience that ends here. It continues in the relationships and changes that have started this month.
A person I respect very much issued a warning from this stage 27 days ago. At our first meeting as a group Lori said, “The summer you have is the summer you choose.” As we are meeting in this space for the last time, I hope you chose wisely.
On behalf of the RAs and support staff I want to say to you: thank you for asking questions, thank you for being you, and thank you for changing our lives. As you go home we wish you luck as you try to figure out how to put Governor’s School into words for your family and friends.
As for me…I still don’t know…
