Â鶹ÊÓƵ

I Choose to do this because it is Hard

Feb 06, 2020

I think it was in 2006 that I heard Olympic Hockey player Nikki Hudson speak.

I think it was in 2006 that I heard Olympic Hockey player Nikki Hudson speak. In describing her journey to become an Olympian it was evident that her own narrative of achievement was, like so many others, built upon challenge, setback and perseverance. This was exemplified in her recount of training on wintry mornings in Toowoomba when westerly winds can slice through the greatest resolve with ease. Her mantra, as she laced up her sandshoes in the darkness of early morning was, ‘I choose to do this because it is hard, not because it is easy.’ Somehow that image has stayed with me. I can somehow still picture Nikki as a young athlete, donning her sandshoes on a frigid Toowoomba morning – before sunlight, in readiness for her own training regime – her extra. Her steadfastness is palpable. Her choice to do the hard thing over the easy no doubt provided the platform for her success: perhaps it was enough of a point of difference from other elite athletes vying for Olympic selection.


But, her words aren’t unique. They can be linked to President John F. Kennedy who said, in relation to the decision to place a man on the moon, ‘We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organise and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.’ Irrespective of the source, I love those words, and I love that they have found resonance with many Â鶹ÊÓƵgirls; resonance because the sentiment has alignment with their values and those of their families.


When Tessa Pruim (Senior 2017) addressed the Commencement Assembly on Wednesday she shared her parents’ reasons for sending her to Â鶹ÊÓƵas a Year 9 Boarder from West End in Brisbane: not our usual catchment. Both Tessa’s parents had studied at university with Â鶹ÊÓƵgirls. They saw them as ‘sensible no nonsense girls’ and wanted the same grounded worldview for Tessa. Tessa is about to enter her third year at the University of Melbourne where she is completing a major in Medieval History. In her words, ‘after four years at Â鶹ÊÓƵand two years out of it, those qualities have enabled me to get where I am today.’ She too alluded to the importance of Nikki Hudson’s mantra in negotiating the challenges of leaving home, moving interstate, renegotiating her degree and, just recently, moving off-residence into a flat. What a privilege it is whenever one of our recent graduates comes ‘holme’ and we can share their distance travelled and marvel at their personal growth.


For many of our new faces at Fairholme, this week has had hard moments, and no doubt the challenges that have emerged have been a heady mixture of the expected and the unexpected. Big change brings with it a mixture of exhilaration and fear, and most of us move along the continuum between those two points, eventually settling at a place of comfort. At times, this requires a focused intention to persevere, rather than an innate ability to do so – although we can learn to push through that which is difficult and, when we do, it holds us in good stead for life. We need courage to do the hard thing – whatever that hard thing is. Bob Cunningham (Former Head of School at the Robert Louis Stevenson School in New York) reminds us that where our children sit on that continuum will be influenced by our responses as parents. He says, ‘I’ve always observed that kids can feed off of parents’ anxiety. Do your best to be calm and routine when preparing for back to school. Don’t make a big deal out of it.’ And although we are already back at school, the advice is relevant to a whole diversity of contexts – as parents, we need to be aware of our own responses to new or difficult situations and how they impact on our children who watch us, observe our actions, and often feed them back to us with mirror accuracy.


The year ahead holds great promise. There will be challenges to negotiate, and successes that have any meaning will be gained through meeting those challenges with courage. Before we fixate too much on mitigating against or totally eliminating anxiety or stress from our lives, or those of our children, it’s also appropriate to remember that ‘anxiety is functional – we need an amount of stress to motivate us to act, or to enhance our performance. It is [also] a normal response to something complicated or scary (Carr-Gregg, 2014, p.150).’ Thus, let us embrace that which is difficult, rather than always seeking out that which is easy – we all know that the greatest growth occurs following the greatest challenge. Let us also allow our children to manage that difficult space because, as Carr-Gregg reminds us, if we ‘really want them to succeed, [we have to] learn when to leave them alone.’


Here’s to the moon, and the achievement of that which may seem an impossible dream! We look forward to walking with your daughters, and sons, as they do so throughout the year ahead.


Dr Linda Evans | Principal



References

Carr-Gregg, M. (2004) ‘Strictly Parenting. Everything you need to know about raising school-aged kids’. Penguin Random House. Australia.

The Understood team. ‘’



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Anthony Simcoe, perhaps best known for his role as Steve in the epic Australian film, ‘The Castle’ with lines like, “Dale dug a hole, Dad,” or “How much for jousting sticks?” was a gangly fifteen-year-old boy when I first met him at Burnside State High School in Nambour, where he was seeking to master the volleyball dig, serve and set. Who would have imagined his becoming? Even years on, Anthony would say that he learned to become an actor through washing dishes at cafes – earning money between acting jobs – learning to observe the humanness in his customers. He washed a lot of dishes and served a lot of tables in order to become a credible member of ‘The Castle’s’ Kerrigan family. In tedious hours he learned about people and about hard, repetitive work. Repetition is the underpinning pattern of rehearsal and practice. Some of us do it well, others not so. I hear it in action many mornings as I pass the Performing Arts building, I see it on mornings and afternoons in our gym and on our oval. Rehearsal. Practice. Becoming. It is far more palpable; it would seem, than our classroom learning which inhabits a far more private space: often behind a closed door. How special it was, a few weeks ago, to invite the parents of Year 12.1 English to join their daughter, Mrs Anderson and I for a Period Five Friday afternoon lesson of ‘Macbeth.’ Seated in a huge circle in the confines of G24, students directed the lesson: spelling, quotations, thematic discussions and questions, for their parent and the other class members. It was an impressive moment (from a teacher’s perspective anyway) – to see students demonstrate their knowledge in a semi-public forum. It was timely for parents, no doubt, to remember the awkwardness of not knowing an answer, the joy of accuracy as well as the discomfort of feedback about an incorrect assumption – these are aspects of learning with which our students grapple, daily … as they become. There was delight in sharing the messiness of learning, the non-linear path of knowledge and how these segue to ‘becoming.’ Although, that moment of self-actualisation we seek or reaching the mountain top does not come at the same time or in the same way for any of us. And we have to be patient from our sideline position. We have to trust the process. We have to remember also, that losing and missing out are important components of future winning. We have to remember in the words of Saint Ignatius Loyola, Spanish Priest, theologian and thinker, “we learn only when we are ready to learn.” St. Ignatius reminds us that education is not confined to classrooms; it can happen anywhere and at any time: if we allow it. And thus, as adults, as we inhabit more than our fair share of sidelines real and metaphoric, during the rundown to the finish line, let us all be gracious in allowing our young people ‘to become’ … a process that is uneven, at times uncomfortable, messy, deeply disappointing and … often wildly exhilarating. Let us enjoy each and every facet and be gracious in the spaces where alignment with expectation is not met in performance or outcome. It is here, in this place, which can feel unpleasant, unsatisfactory and uninvited that the greatest learning and hence the greatest opportunity to become, can occur. If we, as adults who should know better, don’t mess with ‘the becoming.’ “Another ball game lost! Good grief!” Charlie moans. “I get tired of losing. Everything I do, I lose!” “Look at it this way, Charlie Brown,” Lucy replies. “We learn more from losing than we do from winning.” “That makes me the smartest person in the world!” replies Charlie. Win some. Learn some. Become. Dr Linda Evans │Principal  REFERENCE Maxwell, J. (2013) On Turning a Loss into a Gain | Adapted from Sometimes You Win, Sometimes You Learn (October 2013)
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