Augusta Souza Kappner Remarks
from Commencement- May 26, 2005

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I am happy to welcome you to commencement, the culminating point of our year - and more important, the culminating point of our graduates? years of study at Bank Street. I extend a very special welcome to you graduates, whose achievements we are gathered here to celebrate. I also welcome our faculty and staff, who were at our graduates? sides throughout their education, and our graduates? families, silent but vital partners in the whole undertaking. And finally, I welcome members of our Board of Trustees, whose dedicated service has so much to do with making Bank Street the remarkable institution that it is.

This is a day to celebrate, even as we are sad to part with you. Each of you has found a place in our hearts, and when you leave, we find ourselves with a lot of empty room there.

But we do celebrate your accomplishments and rejoice in the knowledge that we are sending into the world another class of America's best teachers and leaders. And we are comforted to remember that on this very day, when you cease to be our students, you become our alumni - a lifelong connection between you and Bank Street, a place where you will always be welcomed with open arms.

You have chosen a demanding and challenging profession, one to which you will have to give and give again, over and over. To some "outsiders," it can appear to be a thankless task. We know better. Our rewards - and they are substantial - lie in watching the children in our care grow and learn and prosper.

The approach of commencement each year always makes me think not only of you, but also of the children in the schools and classrooms to which we are sending you. We know that all children need a lot of love and support to grow into their potential. We also know that the circumstances of some children?s lives are such that they must depend more on their schools for that love and support than many of their more fortunate peers. That puts you, the teacher, front and center - for you must not only teach, but also love.

To teach and to love, you must see each child, not merely "the class." An American General said, "I have seen competent leaders who stood in front of a platoon and all they saw was a platoon. But great leaders stand in front of a platoon and see it as 44 individuals, each of whom has hopes, each of whom has aspirations, each of whom wants to live, each of whom wants to do good."

So it is with the children in your care. Each an individual, complete; each an individual, unique. Each wanting to live; each wanting to do good. And each needing from you the very best you can give.

Sound like a tough assignment? It is, especially on rainy days when the children are cooped up and cranky. When everyone has a cold and no one has a Kleenex. When everyone has forgotten his homework. When the last piece of chalk breaks. When the guinea pig escapes. When half the kids don't seem to get the math concept you explained so carefully. And when you think of all the paperwork you?re going home to. Even on those days, you have to be a great teacher, because each child needs you, even on those days - maybe more on those days.

I read a short poem the other day that made me think of you and the children. It?s by a Polish poet, Bronislaw Maj, and it?s called "A Leaf." I'd like to share it with you.

A leaf, one of the last, parts from a maple branch: it is spinning in the transparent air of October, falls on a heap of others, stops, fades. No one admired its entrancing struggle with the wind, followed its flight, no one will distinguish it now as it lies among the other leaves, no one saw what I did. I am the only one.

Sometimes you, the teacher, are the only one. The only one to see a child's struggle with the wind, to see the flight. The only one to see that single child and no other, to distinguish her from "the class."

You are the one who knows that Jimmy is sleepy because he spent the night with his mother at the hospital, watching over his sick uncle. You are the one who knows that Maria is withdrawn because her parents are separating. You are the one who knows that no one in Alex's family gave him a birthday present. You are the one who suspects that Michelle is dyslexic, and insists that she be tested. The one who notices the bruises on Joshua's arms. The one who knows that David had no breakfast, that Serena is being bullied by a bigger child, that Hector is afraid of a dog he sees on his way home, that half the children go home to empty apartments.

You are the one. Sometimes, you are the only one.

It is an awesome responsibility to be the only one. Especially when you are also the one who must teach the children to read and write, to do math, to learn history, geography, and science. And to get along with others, to respect the rules necessary for communal living, to manage conflict, to recognize the rights of others, to work collaboratively. And while doing all of this, you must also make your classroom an exciting place to be, a place where learning is a joy, where risks can be taken, where praise abounds.

When I was writing this speech, I stopped at this point, and looked back at what I had said you must do. And I thought, "Well, that's just plain impossible!"

But you know, it isn't impossible. It ought to be - but it isn't. Great teachers do it every day. And you are all going to be great teachers, which means you will do all this every day. Well, okay - nearly every day.

And why will you do all this? You will do it because in your capable hands lies our future. Those children of today - untidy, perhaps, clamorous, exuberant - are the solid citizens of tomorrow. And we need them, if we are to make any progress toward a better world. Nearly two centuries ago, a British statesman, Henry, Lord Brougham [Brawm], said, "Let the soldier be abroad if he will, he can do nothing in this age. There is another personage - a personage less imposing in the eyes of some, perhaps insignificant. The schoolmaster is abroad, and I trust to him, armed only with his primer, against the soldier in full military array."

The soldiers are abroad again, and our trust in our "schoolmasters" is every bit as great as Lord Brougham's. It is you, and not the soldier, who have the power to change the world. (make a better world?)

And sometimes, you are the only one.