March 13, 2013
“…and we retire to our screens to Google you, to FaceBook friend you, to ichat you, to i-this you and i-that you, LOL, XXOO, let the SKYPES begin.” – remarks to the class of 2012 at graduation.
Look for me on Facebook, friends. Google me, good people of MPA. Connect with me on Linked-In. Let’s be virtual friends and ours will be an electron hug.
But the spirit of our time together will live most profoundly in memory. Sometime in the future, I’ll see a face that reminds me of you and you will, suddenly, be there with me. The bright light of recognition gives way to the sharp stab of loss. “Yes, it’s you!” then “yes, that wonderful time has passed.” Later that evening, I’ll search for you in the virtual ocean, find you, and know for sure that yes, that time has passed.
That time when the eagle floated right over our canoes on the seventh grade trip down the Cannon river; when you, at age four, ran into my arms after the tornado sirens stopped wailing; when the yellow ribbon was cut and you all ran yelling for joy across the brand new green space; when you gave more than your all on the soccer field on a cold night in St. Cloud and thanked us when it was all over; when you conquered your fear of judges in robes and argued your case with passion and confidence; when the last chord of that serene piece of music you performed hung in the air over the assembled crowd; when the largest crowd in school history watched strapping uniformed basketballers lift a kindergartner on their shoulders to sink a first ceremonial basket in a sparkling new space; when the unmistakable look of discovery spread across your face, and your face, and your face – a thousand times a year for eleven years….
Those times when one more student in need was one too many, yet you nurtured five more with the same grace and compassion, making each feel like the most important one; when you wondered what you must have been thinking when you shouldered the heavy mantle of leadership, but to us you made your burden appear light; when the white dove of yet another of your brilliant ideas flew out among us, circled, and took off; when we watched together as those blue-robed soon-to-be graduates filed in for the rite of passage, then out for the launch of their lives without us; when, exhausted, you knew that the hundreds of hours of work and thought had paid off and they got it….!
The worry that spread across your face as your little one walked from your arms and into PreK for the first time – will she be OK? – and the relief that took its place when you saw that, yes, she will be OK; when you showed up, bright and cheery, to volunteer the day after you said you wouldn’t anymore because you had already put in 60 hours and it was time for someone else to step up; when you trusted your son’s seventh grade teacher when she said that his behavior was normal and everything would be alright; and when you stood with her five years later in the presence of this very grown up and remarkably coherent young man – who knew?; and when you realized what this MPA thing was all about after your daughter’s first triumphant year at college….
You may find me in the virtual ocean, but look for me first in the faces of those I have touched. It is a legacy more lasting and true than any program, structure, or idea. And, passing a store front window in a distant land, I will glimpse your face in mine, and remember.
Mike Downs
