Heroes, and Being Prepared

Our assembly last week with Medal of Honor recipient Sgt. First Class Sammy Davis was a remarkable experience. There was hardly a dry eye in the house by the end. We watched a DVD (from the Medal of Honor book) in which he tells the story of the events for which he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. After that he answered questions from students
for about 45 minutes, ending only because he had another engagement, not because there was any shortage of questions from the students or any sign of fatigue on his part. During the time, he allowed his medal to be passed among the 160+ people in the audience, “I want everyone to touch it.” By the end of our hour together, I assure you that he touched everyone there.

He made a dozen unscripted comments in that exchange that are worth discussing in a column like this, but today I’ll explore the one he repeated with noticeable frequency, “I was just doin’ my job.” With true and sincere humility, he explained to us the rigorous training he had received so that when the critical time came he did not have to think about what was the right thing to do; he simply “did my job.”

Clearly he was being overly modest, and there was much more to his accomplishment and heroism. Not many of us could have (or would have) done what he did, despite all the training in the world. None the less, he was making a very important point. In many ways, I think this is a huge part of the hidden value of an EDS education. Much of the real value of the student’s experience here does not emerge, does not come into play, until much later. As Father Fain once said in a meeting of the EDS Board of Trustees, in which we were discussing possible amendments to the by-laws, “I guess you really don’t need by-laws and don’t see their relative value – weak or strong – under normal circumstances. It’s in times of difficulty that you need them, and need them to be well-designed and strong” (or words very much to that effect).

I suppose that in much the same way, the real value-added of an EDS education is not fully visible or apparent under normal circumstances. Sure we see great results on standardized tests, and our graduates generally do exceedingly well in high school, often leading the way academically and otherwise. But when and how do we see and measure the value that is accrued over several (as many as 11) years in this place? When and how will we see the impact on some student who suddenly remembers touching a Medal of Honor or recalls a lesson Sgt. Davis imparted? How do we see the seeds that were planted a month ago when we had a world class marine biologist speak to our middle school? What is the cumulative effect of having so many teachers who love, nurture, challenge, and support them? How do we capture the benefit of the public speaking or authentic leadership opportunities that permeate our program? Is it possible that we underestimate the core strength and skills that can develop in a person who spends formative years in a community that prays daily, strives to understand the lessons of the Bible, and practices service to others? Is it even possible to overestimate?

What does it mean that so many young alumni visit former teachers and friends during their breaks? That they return to be married in the church here? What does it say that within only a couple of weeks of creating an EDS alumni group on Facebook, we had nearly 100 members?

Of course, the students will not always recognize or value the experiences they are having.

Even parents will occasionally lose sight of the health and beauty of the rich forest as they become overfocused on an imperfect tree or two. So we must remind each other of the big picture.

We cannot predict what challenges or opportunities life will present these children. What I do know is that they will have a deep and rich pool of experiences, skills, and tools from which to draw -- deeper and richer than almost anyone else their age. No doubt they will be prepared to manage the math problems and the writing assignments. But more importantly, they will have already practiced leadership, service, problem-solving, collaboration, and risktaking. And they will have done a significant amount of spiritual reading, writing, questioning, and reflecting. They will know what community looks and feels like, and what success and failure look and feel like. When the critical time comes, they will be well-prepared. Then it will be up to them.

--Ned R. Murray