For one thing, I now have pockets. But it is more about feeling welcome at the table than about pockets and dress codes. I celebrate the fact that uniformity of race, class, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, religious expression, and expectations no longer describes the complexion or the rituals of life at a school like Choate Rosemary Hall. All our wonderful facilities and programs are mere background and scenery to the story of a life lived in relationship with others. Without the people, the school is nothing.
Relationships are where the heart and soul of a school lie.
In my classroom as a history and psychology teacher, I get to think about the ways in which we make meaning of experience. This was brought home to me most vividly last spring at our Diversity Day Program. We had 27 workshops ranging from T'ai Chi to Living Positively with HIV to an Italian sing-along to a conversation about Blacks and Jews to 20 questions about spirituality. I sat on a panel with current and past students and faculty and listened to seven people tell their stories of growing up gay, lesbian, and bisexual. The theme common to all the stories, like a basso continuo, was the sense of isolation, the fear of feeling different without knowing why, the experience of being outside the circle.