Courage Creates Community

One of those traditions was two years of Latin or Greek. I failed my Latin I final and spent the summer before sophomore year at the Farmington Public Library with a tutor, preparing for Mr. Myers’ Latin II class. Latin was hard for me—almost as hard as sitting still and not thinking about sports—but Mr. Myers noticed what I cared about, asked about it, and even showed up at my games.

He was tough, too. I failed more than one of his tests and often spent study halls at his desk, scribbling translations into my worn copy of Wheelock’s Latin. Even when I wanted to quit, he didn’t lower his expectations or his belief in my potential. His classroom was a place of high support, accountability, and consistency. More than Latin, he taught me the confidence to do hard things well.

The word courage comes from the Latin cor, meaning “heart.” In its earliest form, it described not just acts of bravery, but the willingness to speak one’s truth from the center of who you are. Courage, at its core, is about living from the heart—especially when the path ahead is uncertain.

This summer, I was reminded of that definition in a deeply personal way. Life has a way of testing us, even when we think we’re prepared. Some challenges arrive with a weight we could never rehearse for. In those moments, courage doesn’t feel like triumph; it feels like the quiet choice to keep moving forward, to remain open, and to stay connected to others.

That truth resonates deeply in schools. Every day, courage shows up in countless small ways: the student who raises a hand to ask for help, the teacher who tries something new without knowing if it will succeed, the classmate who steps in when someone is left out. These everyday acts are the seeds from which trust, belonging, and community grow.

It’s why we introduced the idea of a throughline—a guiding theme that threads through our entire school year, across divisions, disciplines, and daily life. Last year’s throughline, Rooted in History, United in Purpose, called us to celebrate our 25-year story and honor the values that endure. This year’s throughline, Courage Creates Community, invites us to ask: How will we cultivate courage in ourselves, in our students, and in one another?

Before the first day of school, our faculty reflected on this question through The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse. Each of us named the form of courage we most embody today and the one we hope to grow into. Then we each wrote a single Courage Commitment—an intentional step we will take this year to strengthen our own courage and, in doing so, our community’s.

Here’s mine: 

This year, my Courage Commitment is to listen more deeply—to create the time and space to truly hear the stories of those around me. The heart of our community is the people within it, and the more I understand their journeys, the more I can serve with clarity, empathy, and purpose.

This throughline is not just for students and faculty; it’s for all of us. Parents, caregivers, grandparents, alumni—you are part of this community, too. Talk as a family about where courage is showing up in your lives. If you feel inspired, write your own Courage Commitment. It doesn’t have to be dramatic. It could be as simple as “Speak up when it feels easier to stay silent” or “Try something new, even if it might not work.” If you’re feeling extra courageous, share them with me. I would love to know how our families are talking about courage at home.

I often think back to Mr. Myers, who showed me that courage isn’t about never struggling—it’s about refusing to give up when you do. If each of us lives that truth, we won’t just face life’s challenges with strength; we’ll build a community where every person is known, valued, and encouraged to grow.