Per Circulum Locuti Sunt | Voices on the Circle
Three Groton generations: Henry Bakewell ‘25, Ann Bakewell Woodward ’86, and Henry Bakewell Jr. ‘55
42 | Quarterly Winter 2013
Groton students may or may not have heard this, but each of you belongs to something called the “Trophy Generation.” There was Generation X—that’s mine, the slackers—then Generation Y, aka Generation Trophy. The theory goes that this generation has been raised to value self-esteem over all else, hence the proliferation of participation medals, 12th-place trophies, and ribbons ribbons ribbons just for showing up. I witnessed this a few weeks ago at a parents’ night speech given by an administrator at my sixth grader’s middle school. In describing admirable teaching moments, the administrator recounted seeing a student answer a teacher’s question and then, as the child was turning to go back to her desk, the teacher stopped her, turned her around, and said, “Remember—you are fantastic!!” This story was met by nods of appreciation, a teary eye or two, and a general undercurrent of “isn’t that wonderful!” from my fellow parents in the audience, while I cringed in response. To me, it was not wonderful at all but instead symptomatic of a problem that goes beyond the harmless bolstering of young self-esteem. But before you whisper “Tiger Mom!” to each other, I would note that I too am frequently guilty of showering praise on our young girls for some of their more basic achievements. However, there is a bright line between home life and school life, and part of the mission of today’s education is fostering an environment that takes the supportive, nurturing elements of home life and then infuses the more unforgiving realities of life—competition, failure, stress, disappointment—all toward educating the character along with the mind. To me, facing these challenges and acquiring the tools and disciplines to not only function but also thrive is a core building block for adaptation and success in a complex world. The educational process around discovering these traits of persistence and resilience has many labels, but the simplest is “grit.” Finding your grit—and developing and harnessing its powerful potential—is at the heart of character building. For me, like so many of you, I found grit I never knew I had right here at Groton School. Let me take you back almost 30 years—to 1983; yes, it was a time of MTV and bad hair, but it was also when I arrived at Groton in Fourth Form, with my own chic, feathered haircut and fashionable flowered skort. I was never a cool kid or a hip dresser or on the cutting edge of the social scene, and when I arrived here I felt absolutely out of place. I was in Cathy Lincoln’s dorm (and she has a very incriminating photo of that great haircut but I have bribed her to keep it under lock and key!). My first memory was of setting up my room and seeing the four other new Fourth Formers in the dorm making their beds—all with beautiful Laura Ashley comforters, bedskirts, throw pillows, and stuffed animals. I had the School-issued, paper-thin, blue-ribbed bedspread and one pillow. They put beautiful posters on the wall, cute carpets on the floor, and even had color-coordinated bath caddies for all their bath accessories. I had a few things for my desk, my clothes, and that was about it. You see, I came to Groton on financial aid and I was pretty clueless in the ways of just about everything. My dad, a Groton alum, had embodied the School’s motto and had gone into a life of public service, working for the government. He was a brilliant engineer and worked for the Navy as a civilian helping to develop sonar technology for our country’s nuclear submarines. While this job was crucial to our country’s naval defense, as a civil service position, it didn’t particularly pay well. Thus, I was lucky enough to even be at Groton with the help of the School’s financial aid program. So I made my sparse bed,