A Thanksgiving Message

As I’ve moved well into the golden years of my career, I’ve reflected often upon the reasons I came to Collegiate, why I’ve stayed so long, and why I’m grateful that I have.

 

Foremost was the opportunity to teach and coach, impact lives in some small way, and pay forward the gifts bestowed by those who had inspired and motivated me during my educational journey.

 

The decision to sign on at 103 North Mooreland Road wasn’t easy, though, because I already had a job as a sports writer for the Richmond News Leader which I dearly loved, so diving headlong into a challenge for which I had only a vague understanding, no certification, and no experience creating lesson plans, practice plans, and game plans much less executing them was a leap of faith for all involved.

 

While the working-with-kids part was certainly the attraction, I was smart enough to know that it was essential to work closely with my new colleagues, absorb their wisdom, and draw on their expertise and experience which was much broader and deeper than mine.

They were responsible, after all, for setting the tone and creating the culture of the school, and if I wanted to share in perpetuating that tone and culture, I’d best pay close attention to both the words and actions of those who had an historical perspective that I didn’t.

 

I didn’t get to know Collegiate in a day, a week, a month, or even a year. It’s been a career-long odyssey which began when I was fortunate enough to identify the right mentors and was, even as a young guy with more passion than good sense, savvy enough to listen to them.

 

Finding mentors in my early days wasn’t hard.

 

They were the folks, many from the Greatest Generation, who showed me that it was essential to set high expectations but work harder than those for whom I set them, that I was never too important to overlook mundane tasks like picking up a stray piece of trash, kicking an errant pine cone off the sidewalk, or tidying up my classroom at the end of the day, that talking the talk meant nothing unless you walked the walk, and that what’s right was more important than who’s right.

 

A.L. “Petey” Jacobs hired me in 1968 to coach what we now call Cub sports, an adjunct role I filled three of the next four years before I came aboard full time. Coach Jacobs embodied the noble qualities of loyalty, competitive spirit, fair play, and sportsmanship and stressed the importance of teaching fundamentals, challenging kids to be the best they could be, and providing our athletes positive experiences from which they could learn and grow.

 

Malcolm U. “Mac” Pitt Jr. headed Collegiate for many years, and I clearly remember our first faculty meeting when he spoke of the Family School concept. It was just a phrase to me back then, but I came to understand that it meant a community defined by trust, honor, loyalty, and mutual respect and where the “we” was more important than the “me.”

 

Ned Fox was the Boys School head who taught me that I was hired as a teacher/coach, not a coach/teacher, and showed me that I could gain as much joy helping boys improve in the classroom as in the athletic arena.

 

In 1976, Bill Reeves succeeded him and provided encouragement, strength, wisdom, and compassion along my professional and personal journey and that of countless others. Humble to a fault, he taught the importance of listening intentionally, measuring one’s words, remaining non-judgmental, and serving others before self.

 

In many years working as an assistant to Jim Hickey, for whom the track is named, I learned to maintain an even keel (no small feat in those early days), empower colleagues, and inspire athletes to attain a level of competitive excellence they might never imagine while having a lot of fun along the way.

 

There was Richard Towell, who when I vented about my frustrations in the early years and declared that I was returning to sports writing, always heard me out and reminded me why I got into education.

 

Then there was Julia Williams, who succeeded the venerable Catharine Flippen as head of the Girls School in 1972. She was cultured, erudite, and dignified, and it always amazed me that she saw even a modicum of promise in a rough-around-the-edges upstart who seemed her polar opposite.

 

One of the best bits of advice I ever received came from Adrian Howard, the father of three graduates, who knew me well and reminded me after what I considered an end-of-the-world loss when I was coaching 8^th grade football in the mid-‘70’s that I was coaching young men, not athletes.

 

As the years rolled along and the senior generation retired, I continued to share the journey with contemporaries the likes of Alex Smith, Bubba Lawson, Joel Nuckols, Charlie Blair, Charlie McFall, and Karen Doxey, who brought excellence and professionalism to their callings and modeled the concept of “Family School” that Mr. Pitt had referenced in that first meeting.

 

For those friendships, among so, so many, I am grateful.

 

For the lessons those friends taught me, I am grateful.

 

For the culture of excellence and humility that is Collegiate at its best, I am truly grateful.

   ~Weldon Bradshaw