Dear Friends- It has been a difficult week. Since I last sat down to write to you all, we have seen terrible violence unfold in Paris, and our own community has been shaken by a sudden death in our extended Randolph family. I’m not sure I have words that will soothe the pain and grief that accompany these events, or sentences that will suddenly make sense of the incomprehensible. I am finding that my own heart has been comforted this week by a song from my childhood. For the

Dear Friends- Beatrice came home from Randolph School a few weeks ago with a ball of yarn bouncing behind her and a long woven… something, hanging from her fingers. She explained how she had learned to knit this object using only her fingers as a loom, and then proceeded to spend hours upon hours of the next few weeks finger knitting, creating more and more woven objects that grew longer and longer on each try. She totally owned this activity- She felt competent at it, she co

Hello Friends- I stayed after school yesterday and ended up in the upper playground playing whiffle ball with the students. I worried that some of the children would be unable to hit the ball, even with the big red fat bat they were using. I didn’t want them to feel bad if they had not quite mastered the art of whacking a flying plastic sphere out of the air, but I also knew that the other players would quickly get bored if I spent too much time focused on one batter. How cou