S P O T L I G H T
Pam and Gib Harris have been part of our school community for fourteen years; they have had three children and one daughter-in-law attend and have themselves seen hundreds of athletic events, witnessed innumerable artistic performances, and have become virtually part of the fabric of this place. They have been co-chairs of the Parents’ Fund for the past two years—establishing an unprecedented record among independent schools of 95 percent parent participation this year—host to innumerable house parties, friends to countless Taft students and faculty, and leaders who have made a vital difference to the life of this school. —Lance Odden Gib Harris I’d like to start with a true story as reported by the chief of naval operations, Pacific, concerning an incident which occurred on October 15, 1995. The actual radio conversation went as follows: Operator #1: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid collision. Operator #2: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid collision. Operator #1: This is the captain of a U.S. Navy ship. I say again, divert your course. Operator #2: No, Captain, I say again, divert your course. Operator #1: This is the United States Aircraft Carrier Enterprise. We are a large warship. Divert your course now! Operator #2: This is a lighthouse. Your call, captain.
What is the point of this story? Well, it might be that this world seems to have lots of surprises for us all whether we be captains of aircraft carriers or Taft students. And indeed, it does. It occurs to me that you often imagine that we parents have led very orderly lives and that we are well equipped at dealing with life’s issues. If I may be so presumptuous as to speak for other parents, it’s just not so. No specific course I ever took in school prepared me, for example, for the joys of the teenage years of my four children, nor more recently, for the issue of a sick parent entering a nursing home. Since neither physics nor French nor history have specifically prepared any of us, how do we deal with life’s many decisions? We can use our brains, or we can seek counsel from friends and family or we can utilize analytical techniques. But all of these will regularly shortchange us if a most important ingredient is not added to the equation. That ingredient, in my opinion, is our values. Values help us make the decisions of life right—right for us and right for our society. It is the influence of a Taft education on your values that gives you a special perspective and a special advantage.
As you leave Taft you are clearly armed with all the requisite skills— sound minds recently stretched, sound bodies able to perform great moves on the dance floor, and a string of extraordinary successes. But what you also take with you are the Taft experiences—the wonderful safety net of faculty and friends that lets you celebrate the sports victories and the cast parties and cry through a team cut or yet another 3.0 grade from a misinformed teacher. I have always viewed the character of Taft as a laboratory—one in which you have been permitted to fail and permitted to succeed. From those cumulative experiences, along with your home life, has come your set of values and attitudes. All this sounds rather grandiose, and hopefully at a somewhat higher level than Yogi Berra’s advice to a graduating class when he said, “Whatever you do in life, 90 percent of it is half mental.” But I do hope that you will pause to reflect that very few young people have had this opportunity to mature under the watchful eye of a caring community like Taft. My graduation wish for you is that you capitalize on this opportunity by relying heavily on the values you have developed Taft Bulletin
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