Spring promise and our harvest for the year

Hello dearest community! 

A couple quick announcements on community events: 
Family picnic 5-8pm May 26th at Como Park picnic area! 
School Board Annual Meeting June 15th! 5:30-6:30pm cookout, 6:30-7:30pm public meeting! Celebrate the year! Hear about next steps for the School!

Blog post for May 6th, 2016: 

Spring is a wonderful time to wrap up a school year. As life returns to the soil and leaves again appear, we have a reminder of the natural cycles that nourish us. We have worked hard this past year, and together have grown. The time for us to harvest the bounty of our relationships, our care for each other, and the love for our community is now. So please, dear community of families and alumnus, thank a teacher. Thank a friend. Thank a person who came into your life through the school and made you all the better for it. 

For, in a natural cycle of seasons we give thanks at the time of the harvest. We give thanks traditionally when the season of growth comes to an end and the fruit is ripe to harvest. For our work, that time of harvest is now - in the spring - before we break for respite and the sprout of another school year in September. 

I'm thankful for the promise that spring brings - reconnecting us to a promise for hope and new growth, in the face of the fierce or prickly truth or experience. The message of the poem below reminds me how central this kind of hope is to education, to our work together in building a better humanity, and trusting ourselves to be strong enough to find new growth in each season. May you find the same hope as we close this season of work together, and may you join us in our community events this month! Be well all of us ~Sam

In Perpetual Spring

Related Poem Content Details

Bikes from May 4th: Bike to school day!
Gardens are also good places 
to sulk. You pass beds of 
spiky voodoo lilies   
and trip over the roots   
of a sweet gum tree,   
in search of medieval   
plants whose leaves,   
when they drop off   
turn into birds 
if they fall on land, 
and colored carp if they   
plop into water. 

Suddenly the archetypal   
human desire for peace   
with every other species   
wells up in you. The lion   
and the lamb cuddling up. 
The snake and the snail, kissing. 
Even the prick of the thistle,   
queen of the weeds, revives   
your secret belief 
in perpetual spring, 
your faith that for every hurt   
there is a leaf to cure it.