To the Parker community:

A Broken Body That Needs Healing.

Every September we gather in the auditorium for the very first Morning Ex of the school year. The excitement is palpable, as the very youngest join together with the very oldest to forge the pieces that build the symbolic house that is a model home that we so affectionately hold up in high regard. One of the foremost traditions of that MX is the ritual reading from the New Testament book of Corinthians which reminds us, using the metaphor of a body, that we are all parts that make up a whole. We aren’t just hands or feet, eyes or ears, but a sum of the parts. And when one part of that body triumphs, we all triumph. Or when one part of the body suffers, we all suffer.

Remember that?

I think we need to revisit this traditional thinking that is so uniquely Parker and think long and hard about what we say versus what we do. Because there are members of our body who are suffering right now – some for weeks, some for even years – and many members of our collective body are failing to see and address the injured in a way that exemplifies the Corinthian passage. To know that the foot is ailing but not feel the need or the urgency to come to its aid because it’s only one foot, there’s still another, or because there are still two working ears and ears don’t need feet (or do they?), runs counter to who we say we are as a school community.

Remember the passage?

When one part of the body suffers, we all suffer. That means looking out for each other, perhaps putting the needs of someone else above our own. That means having the courage to come to the aid of the hurting without concern that it might make us look weak or imperfect. That means having the boldness to acknowledge that things aren’t the way they are supposed to be and finding the fortitude to do something about it. That means listening to the voices that aren’t just the loudest or the strongest. That means being visible in times of crisis rather than remain in the shadows. The writer James Baldwin said it well: “I can’t believe what you say, because I see what you do.” When our yearly September thesis is a body consisting of many parts and strength in community, then we should back up those words with consistent actions. How can the body function when the head is disconnected? How long will we let the injured walk our hallways going unseen or unheard before we embrace their hurt and walk alongside them in support?

We are the sum of all of our parts. All are in need of care. None is superior to the other. Let’s
remember that.

David Fuder