Towering above Williston students (especially those starry eyed 7th graders), John Bul Dau, at 6′ 8″ tall, recounted his journey as a former “lost boy” of Sudan and his current foundation work to bring health, education, and modern agricultural practices to his native village. The Williston Northampton community welcomed Mr. Dau as the second of our annual Sarah Wattles Perry ’77 Speakers, in which the entire school comes together to hear from an author whose book we have read. 

Not lost on anyone in the audience, however, was that Mr. Dau’s account of his childhood village, prior to the desecration of civil war, was of another century: theirs was an existence largely untouched by the modern world. And as we had just recovered from a week-long power outage, it gave pause as we heard from someone for whom electricity, running water, and school were never part of his childhood experience.

His harrowing tale of survival, recounted in his memoir God Grew Tired of Us, is one that Mr. Dau shares with audiences around the country, and he told me that he especially liked the intimate exchanges he had in the many classrooms he visited during his full day with us. Telling students that “struggle and success” are two sides of the same coin, Mr. Dau’s soft-spoken presence captivated all; in fact, throughout the day clusters of students sought him out lunch, dinner, and in between his many appointments. 

A humanitarian who believes in the power of an individual’s message to pass from person to person–as he calls it a “living story”–Mr. Dau no doubt inspired our already globally minded students to reach even farther. He enjoined everyone to “give back to their community” when they achieve success as adults, no matter what form that success takes. Mr. Dau’s message seems particularly well-suited to Williston students as they embrace lives of purpose, passion, and integrity.

Best-selling author and Oprah Book Club selectee Andre Debus III spoke before a packed audience in the Dodge Room as the second visiting author in the Writers’ Workshop Series last week. Reading from his powerfully told memoir, Townie: A Memoir, Debus recounted scenes from his childhood in unvarnished truth, sprinkling humorous asides throughout the reading. He also facilitated a conversation with his audience, fielding questions about the unique challenges of writing memoirs as well as extemporizing about the art and craft of writing in general.

Debus was variously self-revealing and studiously role-playing, and he delighted in the back and forth with the audience—exclaiming at one point, “Where do you get these kids? They’re brilliant!” after a succession of penetrating questions from our own Writers’ Workshop students. If purpose, passion, and integrity are the three words that resonate from our Mission Statement, then they hold equal sway as credo for aspiring writers.

Debus stated in one of his many eloquent turns of phrase, “writing is an act of deep mining,” and so dig away, Williston students, as you mine for the inner gold of personal expression, creativity, and voice.

Yong Zhao writes in his flat-world book, Catching Up or Leading the Way, that the test-centered educational system in China has a much longer history than most realize. This system has found itself under the microscope, however, as educational leaders in China seek to balance its rigidity with Western (and especially American) flexibility. Ironically, however, Zhao points out that just as the Chinese are exploring ways to include creativity and innovation in their curricula, the United States has been swept up by NCLB, budget cuts, and political maneuvering which has diminished the arts, electives, and creativity in our own educational system. 

So it was no surprise when a delegation of parents and students from China visited Williston (with stops at sister institutions Deerfield and Hotchkiss) to see for themselves how and what our students learn in such enviable educational settings. Having attended a bell weather global education conference this past summer hosted by a group of educators from China—the assembled attendees represented a remarkable and disparate group of schools with deans of admission from such places as Yale, Princeton, NYU, and BU, and secondary heads from Eton and Winchester in the UK, and Westville Boys’ High School in South Africa—I was not surprised that Williston was asked to receive a group of visitors from China.  

Needless to say, visiting parents and students were very impressed with all they saw: students participating in the arts, community service, athletics, Williston+ academic initiatives; indeed, the totality to the Williston experience. An outgrowth of these visits will surely be cross-cultural experiences that will benefit our students and faculty alike, and I hope that during my upcoming trip to China I will have the chance to reciprocate visits to one or two of the country’s flagship high schools.

“Depression and despair” are not words that you expect to hear repeated by a typical rose-colored glasses wearing speaker at a Convocation address. But last Friday, Professor Shamus Khan of Columbia University greeted the Williston community with just those words as spoke about inequality in America and what that means for the teenagers who were assembled before him. 

A prominent sociologist whose book Privilege: The Making of an Adolescent Elite garnered national attention, Khan said that he would not be giving a typical convocation address, and he certainly did not disappoint. Asking students to confront the realities of an economic system in which there are growing disparities between groups of wage earners, Khan urged students to “stay in school” since education level has been shown to predict later economic success. He also encouraged students to maintain a degree of humility towards those who don’t enjoy the same privileges.

Williston graduates have a long tradition of “doing good well,” and it may be that some of our students will be inspired to explore questions similar to those Khan raised in his speech (watch it here). He did say, though, he can’t help them get into college when he self-deprecatingly warned, “Don’t ask me for a letter of recommendation to Columbia, because it won’t help you.” The passion he brings to dry and depressing census data clearly serves a greater purpose to society. Khan’s speech drew laughs, but judging by the number of students who sought him out during the dinner and reception that followed, he also added significantly to his fan base from Williston.