All You Have to Do is Show Up

It was 4:00 PM when I left the school building a week ago Friday. I happened to be walking through the Ahmanson Science Hall when I noticed a half-dozen Freshmen sitting on the floor, intently examining the computer screen of a laptop in front of them. One of the group noticed the puzzled look on my face and hastened to explain that they were working on a Science project. I smiled, wished them well, and continued on my way. As I passed the Atrium of the Dining Hall, there were three upperclassmen, seated at a picnic table laughing at a story being told by a fourth. Next, I passed the Blakeslee Library where a trio of girls was attempting to share two earplugs connected to an Ipod. As I made my way to my car, I could hear a coach’s whistle halting a Girls Volleyball practice in the Duffy Lewis Gymnasium. Out on Lancer Field, I could hear Pat Wickhem announcing the start of the JV Football Game. Did I happen to mention that it was 4:00 PM on a Friday?


Later, when I returned at 7:00 PM to watch the Varsity lose a heartbreaker against San Marino, I noticed that not only were the stands packed with La Salle students and parents (and, I should point out a Drum Line that was clearly having way too much fun performing for the fans) but the area in front of the Concession stand was so jammed with freshmen that we could have easily conducted a Class Assembly on the spot. As I walked home that evening, I thought about each of these scenes and with a clarity that happens typically when I trip and fall, I asked myself how I got so lucky.

I’ve often said that being President of a school like La Salle in a community like Pasadena is really quite easy – all you have to do is show up. Meaning that the sense of community at La Salle – as in Pasadena – is so completely tangible that, as the School’s chief promoter, all I have to do is nurture the overlapping circles created by La Salle’s interaction with the wider community it serves. At a time of day when some schools take on the look of a ghost town, La Salle – the school that never sleeps – is buzzing with activity. I’ve long since stopped fussing about the School’s gates being open on a Sunday – for I know that some thing is always going on.

I am lucky – not so much because La Salle is a perpetual beehive of activity – but because students and adults want to be here. I get to promote a school community that celebrates individuals coming together for a common purpose. I’ve always remembered the advice Pete Griffith, P ’00, ’03 gave me shortly after my arrival at La Salle: “Richard, you don’t understand something. When our kids are happy, we’re happy.” It goes without saying that, by definition, teenagers go through volatile swings of emotion – often in the same day! So, the notion that teenagers can be happy requires some parsing. Perhaps the best way for adults to get their arms around the notion of adolescent happiness is to observe those moments when they are looking forward to something – a sweet sixteen birthday party, a date with the Captain of the Football team, the chance to perform at Café Bibliotheque, being in the starting lineup at Homecoming, to suggest a few. Similarly, when they are disappointed that an enjoyable activity comes to an end – Prom, a pep rally, or a graduation party come to mind. At La Salle we can take a rough measure of adolescent happiness by noting their presence on campus long after the school day ends or – strangely enough – by their determination to go to school, even when a head cold makes them sound like bleating sheep. There’s a certain magic that happens at La Salle each moment when adults and teenagers come together to pursue a common purpose.

I’ve often remarked that 50% of my own success is due to luck – some would argue it’s more like 95% - whichever – I can assure you that when I observe our students at work, at play, or socializing with each other and think about the 24/7 world of La Salle, I know I am very lucky indeed.