A Vision for Pheraby

This week has been a challenging one. The morning of Kyan’s birthday I learned that a beautiful young girl left us far too soon. She was a very special little girl, which is how I see her still even though she was 16, and her beauty and uniqueness were part of what defined the year I spent teaching in the Fire Mountain community. During that year I joined a group of people that came together with the common desire to give their children the best foundation they possibly could; a group that had roots that spanned back decades to an original group of parents with a vision. One of the highlights of my time there was a little girl named Pheraby. This little girl was brilliant, sweet, and unique. There was an awkwardness to her, but it was a sweet and delicate kind of awkwardness. She was a sensitive soul and in her loving community she thrived. She thrived because the culture of kindness and respect that SHOULD be everywhere was alive in her small community. 

The problem is that that culture of kindness is not everywhere and the tragedy is that our world at large continually perpetuates a lack of decency. We are not a kind or even a decent culture. Sure there are kind people in our world, decent people in our country, and in our communities, but these people are like a pile of sticks trying to hold back a tidal wave. We allow our children to be saturated by media that TEACHES them to be unkind. I cringe when I watch some of the media that is considered acceptable for preschoolers. The girls and boys are MEAN to one another. The writing makes it seem funny, normal, and even acceptable to bully someone or insult someone. It is tragic. I watch my son mimic that behavior, even though his media is extremely limited, because he sees it everywhere, it is part of his culture no matter how hard I try to keep it from him.

When I taught at Fire Mountain School I was not yet a parent so I understood a lot less about the parents I worked with than I do now. I was young and I was not perfect, in fact I’m not sure I was even a “good” teacher then, definitely not a “great” one. But, what I did understand then, despite my age, was that there was something very special happening in that tiny little school and that I was a part of it. I would lead parents around on tours of the school and talk to them about the foundation of education and human interaction that Fire Mountain could provide and they would leave as converts, ready to drop everything and join our little community. I sometimes wondered, after those tours, if I would be good in sales, but then I realized that the only way I could be that good at selling something is if I believed in it the way I believe in Fire Mountain’s mission. 

When I imagine what I want for my sons’ education I see them growing up in that community with all of its perfect imperfection. I see them starting a merchant system in the woods using squirrel tails as currency; learning the basics of society through unstructured play. I see my boys holding a circle of kindness around their peers so that each one of them can flourish and grow and become the person they deserve to be.

I don’t know what happened to Pheraby once she left the safety of Fire Mountain and became a part of a much bigger, less perfect community, and I don’t know if what happened to her is because of the imperfections of the world at large. What I do know is that she had a wonderful childhood and she was loved and supported by so many wonderful souls who will carry her with them in their hearts and in their memories for the rest of their lives. 

The other night I had the extreme honor of seeing many of those children from my year at Fire Mountain grown up and glowing. They were glowing with youth, with knowledge, with love, and that night with grief. They were bound together by the invisible thread of their childhood experiences, and now they are bound together by their love and loss of Pheraby. They were already exceptional human beings, but now they may have just a bit more reason to be exceptional, a bit more drive to go out into the world and pass on the lessons they learned in their childhood. Pheraby’s father said to the group the other night, “something good has to come of this, it has to.” I believe it will. I believe each and every one of those young people will fight to make the world a better place, a kinder place, because they are fighting for Pheraby; They are bound to her and she to them and that bond will change lives.