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Dear Colleagues, Students, Alumni, and Community Partners,
I have very clear memories of my mother dropping me off at Sutterville Elementary School for my early school years. I had new shoes that were unimaginably uncomfortable, and my feelings were undeniably ambivalent—both excited that each autumn was the start of a new life yet terrified at the prospect of all the change. In the aggregate, though, Fall became my favorite season because of the firsts and the renewal. In retrospect, it is a bit surprising because the first couple of years of school were not ones in which I was particularly “successful” as a student.
Mrs. Seward, my Kindergarten teacher, whom I boldly called Mrs. Soup on a self-imposed dare; first grade Mrs. Porter-Always-In-Red-Mrs. Porter who perpetually scowled at me because of my class-clown wit; and Mrs. Vest, the principal whom we believed had an ironing board-sized paddle to punish all who violated the sacrosanct and unknowable school rules, formed a confounding triptych of educators who did not exactly convey to me why I did not fit with the program of schooling.
Why I loved all this remains a mystery, but even so, what became woven into the tapestry of my DNA was the belief that we were each bestowed with a fresh start, a new beginning flush with possibilities each September. Each September. Perhaps these earliest of schooling experiences served to informed who I am today as an educational leader—an individual who believes that no one’s story need be the trajectory we begin with—that there is grace and possibility for new paths moment by moment.
Last Thursday, I had the privilege of standing before the entire faculty and staff of our School of Education for our first retreat, fully face-to-face, in two and one-half years. Not only had my colleagues not been together in one place for so very long, but they found a new Dean at the helm. How does one determine how to be in moments such as this? For me it was not complicated: approach the moment with profound humility.
I began with a tribute to scholars that many of us love and teach—Lee Bolman and Terrence Deal—and their book, Leading with Soul: An Uncommon Journey of Spirit, which tells the parable of a leader, and a quote they include from 13th century poet, Rumi, whose thinking has greatly influenced my work in Afghanistan and Pakistan:
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
And I intend to end up there.
From this we launched into our work for the day—considerations of how we each have suffered through this never-ending global pandemic, how our university can support our wellbeing, and ways we can support our students and region; how we can continue to foster a community of trust and respect as we move forward; and the work to be done this year.
I extend my thanks to our colleagues who contributed to making the day one of many memorable rites of passage in our work together:
CI Counseling and Psychological Services Director Kirsten Olsen and Jean Watkins, and Executive Director of the California Physical Education and Health Subject Matter Project and SOE Colleague Dianne Wilson-Graham, who provided mental health guidance to each of us
Associate Dean, Dr. Kathy Howard, who guided us through a Conocimiento designed to explore our personal and professional journeys
Academic Chairs Drs. Jeanne Grier, Kara Naidoo, and Mari Riojas-Cortez, who led each department and Dr. Kathy Howard who led our staff discussions
SOE Social Media and Events Coordinator Brittany Heery, who ensured we were perfectly organized, comfortable, and well-fed for the entire day
Each of our SOE faculty and staff who were able to attend and engage with laughter, a few tears, and a lot of hope
We concluded our day with my invitation via a reading of poet Shel Silverstein’s opening volley over the transom from Where the Sidewalk Ends and his poem, Invitation:
If you are a dreamer, come in
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean-buyer…
If you’re a pretender come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin
Come in!
Come in!
I invite each of you in. The tent is expansive, and all are welcome. Welcome to September, a new beginning for us all.
Looking forward,
Elizabeth
Elizabeth C. Orozco Reilly
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