Malcolm Gauld
This week I was honored to deliver the keynote address at Hyde’s 10th Annual Maine State Leadership Day. This was a make-up date following the previous week’s cancellation necessitated by the tragic mass shootings in Lewiston. (We wound up sending the 1100+ lunches we had prepared for that day down to Lewiston to help feed the first responders and law enforcement officers stationed there.) Despite the unexpected change up, we still hosted over 750 Maine middle and high school students from 50+- school districts. (The word we got was that the kids really wanted to gather together as an antidote to the anxiety that had gripped the whole state in the wake of the shootings.)
Given that the originally scheduled keynote speaker had a conflict with our new date, I got the call to pinch hit. I went a bit personal on this one, hoping to make two points. For Point #1, I presented a phrase I heard endlessly during my middle school years in the midst of the many parent/teacher conferences conducted in response to my consistent pattern of academic and behavioral shortfalls:
I talked about how I resented that phrase, how I saw it as polite “adult-speak” designed to move me along without offending my parents’ sensibilities. Privately, not only did I harbor some doubts as to whether the teachers actually believed that this statement was true, I also wondered why I had never heard a kid in my situation being told: “You may not be bright, but you work hard.” I also wondered what the teachers really said about me when they were sipping coffee in the faculty lounge. At that time, I simply did not perceive school as a place where my efforts would matter. As far as I was concerned, school was rigged. (Full Disclosure: My opinion has not changed all that much.) So, I reasoned, If I cannot be good at being good, I’m going to be good at being bad. But, Hey, I’m going to be good at something!
Thankfully, after I got to high school, some teachers and peers entered my life who helped me see that…
But…
So, during my high school years at Hyde, I tried to stay true to this new understanding and, over time, my performance in the classroom, on the athletic field, in extra-curriculars, and around school improved substantively.
The second point I tried to impress upon my audience — and a surprisingly attentive one at that! — is a two-word command: Aim High. I then explained the three goals I had made at the beginning of my senior year of high school:
- Graduate as valedictorian of my class.
- Be admitted to Harvard.
- Be named a high school All-American lacrosse player.
After explaining how never in my life had I worked harder on anything as I did to try to achieve those three goals, I asked for a show of hands on how many of them they believe I actually did achieve. Opinions varied, but…
The answer: None. I went 0-for-3.
I then spent a few moments delineating how the results broke down. First, I had the best academic year of my life, finishing in the top 10% of my class. Second, despite getting Harvard’s thin “We regret to inform you” letter, I was admitted to Bowdoin where I then spent four deeply enriching years. Third, a deserving player from Bridgton Academy got the All-American nod — back then only one player from Maine was annually selected for this honor — but I had the best season of my life, finishing among the state’s top goal scorers and setting the stage for a productive and meaningful four years playing for the Bowdoin Polar Bears! The point? Well…
I wrapped up with what could be considered a warning:
Over the years, I have heard countless students exclaim, “If I can just get out of this school, it will be smooth sailing from then on!” Of course, unbeknownst to them, all sorts of challenges — health, financial, employment, marriages, relationships — await them. (And that’s without even getting into the ups and downs of the parenting thing!) With their thoughts turning to the awesome workshops awaiting them at the conference, I tried to plant that idea in their heads.
And then they were off! (Hey, one thing I’ve learned after 47 years: All classes end that way.)
Onward, Malcolm Gauld
