This week at The École, we all made a long paper chain of unity. Inspired by the House Captains, our students decorated the links with a word, a sentence, a drawing, or stickers expressing their love for kindness, acceptance, and inclusion. On Wednesday, we all wore a touch of orange to show how much these values mean to us. Thank you to everyone for your participation – Unity Day is becoming quite the tradition at The École.
Unfortunately, the world isn’t wearing much orange these days – far from it. There is immense, intolerable suffering. The images we witness from Gaza, Ukraine, and Israel shock and hurt us daily. As Donne said, no man is an island, meaning we all feel it when someone dies, is injured, or is living through a nightmare – that’s what it means to be human. Today, we feel more powerless than ever – who should we turn to to put a stop to these atrocities? And then there’s the haunting question that touches us all, and maybe particularly educators – what can we do to ensure that today’s violence doesn’t lead to more intense hate in future generations?
I would like, if at all possible, to bring a touch of hope to the conversation with an example from Europe of what I believe to be the power of education. Eighty years ago, the continent was torn apart by war. Only in recent years have I come to fully appreciate the incredible work that was accomplished around the notion of memory post-1945 – an effort that started in schools. Through the introduction of German as a language option in French middle schools. Through an intense campaign against using pejorative language to describe the former enemy (because changing how we talk about someone changes what they represent.) Through the multiplication of trips, conferences, cultural exchanges, sports tournaments, and the study of music and poetry. Through the discovery of tales of bravery that took place far from the battlefield. Through the incitement to understand the other, to put ourselves in their shoes.
It is thanks to the power of education – and political will – that my parents’ generation, my generation, and those that follow have been able to grow up without the burden of resentment or hate. I often say that we ask a lot of school and that, seen from our classrooms, the task often seems insurmountable and the stakes colossal. But the critical necessity to grow up in peace, the stubborn refusal of violence, and the absolute refusal to see someone else suffer are all things we should ask of school. It is, in fact, a school’s duty.
This week, we are all thinking of those of you – wherever you may be in the world, including places that are not the current center of attention – who are being hurt by the cruelty of men. At The École, we wear orange every day for you, and we put all our strength into building a united school community where there is no place for suffering.