This week was punctuated by events that were, to say the least, antinomic: our 3rd to 8th graders completed the Terra Nova tests to demonstrate how robust our curriculum is to the authorities, while in Maternelle, Pre-Nursery to Kindergarten celebrated Fun Day—a new tradition inaugurated this time last year (which incidentally finished under glorious sunshine in Madison Square Park); the FDNY completed the first inspection of our new building kickstarting the countdown to moving day for our Elementary and Middle School classes, while our younger students created a new rooftop mural with the artist Antoine Wagner (aka Daphne from Kindergarten’s dad), symbolically reaffirming our love for our Maternelle Building. These seemingly contradictory events reveal what I love about the story we are creating at The École. So many things happen here each week that provide so much food for thought, so many things that make me question what I see, what I hear. And I know that nothing ever really happens by chance in the life of a school.

I know, for instance, that the creation of new traditions like Fun Day is a meaningful way to bring the community together and create lasting memories: the back-to-school picnic is another striking example of this. We’ve created other traditions in recent years, such as the tug-of-war at Field Day, International Day, and the Elementary & Middle School Back-to-School and End-of-Year assemblies. All of these celebrations come to life because we listen: to the need for Maternelle families who want to spend more time together, to the pride we all feel from time to time when we say, “This is where I’m from,” to the desire our students feel to support their House with all their might.

I know that the appearance of the new mural on the rooftop of the Maternelle Building is an affirmation that responds to months of uncertainty: if The École is moving, does that mean we’ll all be in the same building? Are we going to leave what we fondly refer to as “206”—a place we hold so dear? By creating a new mural alongside a section of the original painted by Hervé Tullet and children who have long since grown up, our youngest students are telling us they too are painting the walls, they too have a new building and they too are part of the celebration.

Finally, I know that the events I described to you two weeks ago—whose history goes back to 1895—have caught us at an ideal moment. A moment when our US curriculum has never been stronger, a moment when sitting a test is a stressfree celebration of knowledge that empowers our students to show off everything they’ve learned (“Oh, yeah, that was supereasy,” a middle schooler told me at dismissal yesterday when I asked how it went—he had clearly already forgotten all about it!) I also know all the work that went into reaching this point of apparent ease.

Nothing is left to chance, especially the construction of a new building—our partners are consummate professionals and we are lucky to have Philippe with us full time (I’m not convinced it is a coincidence) to facilitate the rapid decision-making that means we are entirely on schedule today.

I know that with The École I still have much to learn, to live, and to delight in.