I have been thinking all year about the independent school value proposition and why parents pay for something that can be gotten for free down the street. There are, of course, plenty of reasons why families make financial and other sacrifices so that their children will receive the best possible education and the best possible life experience during their formative years. Among other things, many parents become committed to Quaker education and the notion that their children are part of a community that strives to see that of God within each person and encourages them to Let Their Life Speak.

In 1975, when I was a senior at the College of Wooster, we had to complete an Independent Study. This is a serious endeavor, almost a right of passage, with the attendant nervousness, fear, sense of hopelessness, fatigue, desperation, possibility, wonder, zillion note cards, manual typewriter, paranoia of losing your only copy, meetings with your advisor, start agains, accomplishment, brilliant expressions that come from who-knows-where, sinking feelings, encouragement from similarly tortured souls, massive adrenaline associated with the last 24 hours, re-reading pages so many times that you couldn't catch a typo if it flew into your eye, and, finally, the dawning realization that you have done it. For the rest of your life, you can look back at the experience with gratitude, delight and a touch of pride. I was a history major, and I was particularly interested in social justice and equality. My first idea was to write about how soldiers are motivated to do things that they would never do in civil society. I started the research and discovered that someone had already written that book ("Warriors: Reflections on Men in Battle" by J. Glenn Gray). So I picked another topic: "Dissent and Experimentation in American Schools; 1900-1960". The only problem was that 1960 was only 15 years ago, and some in the History Department didn't think this was really history. I pushed back, and they relented. Actually, I can see their point a lot better now, for some reason. But it was still a good project, and I loved many of the books that I read and still think about the passion, determination and optimism that drove school innovators. Five years later, I was in business school and then Wall Street. It took 35 years for me to return to where I began. A small interruption in the grand scheme of things, but it feels good to be back.

After high school and after college, when you are in the “real” world working in a cubicle, or writing plays, or pounding the pavement in sales, or in grad school, or counting rhinos in the bush, or working on Wall Street, or starting your own business, or lobbying on Capitol Hill or whatever you find yourself doing you will discover that not everyone you meet has learned the values that you were taught and that you caught at Sandy Spring Friends School. I am referring to respect, acceptance, transparency, integrity and fair play. Let’s refer to all this as “Character” and recognize that among the things that happen at SSFS is that students develop a commitment to Character. In business, in your professional career, a commitment to Character is rocket fuel.

We need more entrepreneurs. My experience with entrepreneurs is that they have the ability to gain a little altitude and see the world more clearly from a vantage point that is not overly influenced by what everyone else thinks. To be an entrepreneur means that you are entirely comfortable acting as if the future will not be the same as the past. Entrepreneurs don’t look at opportunities like they are snap shots where everything is frozen in time. Entrepreneurs watch film where you can look at historical patterns, discern hints and project trajectories in order to make educated guesses about what is going to happen next.

I have been thinking about math.

A few weeks ago, the New Yorker published it's end-of-year edition entitled "World Changers." The magazine profiled a series of mostly ordinary people including a nurse, a college professor, and a peace corp volunteer. Folks that could live next door. The reason they are each, in their own way, making the world better is because they each, in their own way, are absolutely indomitable, stubborn, passionate and purposeful. I was also going to say fearless but that wouldn't be entirely true. None of these qualities can be measured by standardized tests. In their pursuits - to stop epidemics before they spread, cure a deadly childhood disease, and re-embolden the Peace Corps, respectively - they each took risks, made people mad, broke down in tears, did stuff they regretted, and never, ever quit. Changing the world is a reach but not unreachable. It starts with a Spark and a Flame and a Torch. It can ignite on the pitch, while celebrating science, becoming culturally proficient, with your PK buddy held high, representing a side of the debate you don't even believe in, watching the Grinch who doesn't steal Christmas, realizing that you really can do anything you set your mind and your heart to. Right here, not even next door, the journey begins.

The college admissions process offers the potential for intense disappointment AND intense personal growth. The college process is always noisy, extremely volatile and often painful. Some of you will experience the feeling of being Snow White– a white knight rides up and snatches you up and away you go – off into the sunset to live happily ever after. Except that is not what is going to happen. Thank Goodness. Because real life - which did not start with the college admissions process but rather runs through the college process - is bumpy, fragile, triumphant, sickening, head-spinningly incredible, depressing, and characterized by moments of pure joy, useful contribution and, if you are lucky, ardent love.

Growing up, my Mom lived as if everyone possessed something of great value no matter what their circumstances might have been. She hated guns, despite being from a family of hunters. The worst thing I ever heard her call a man was "limited." I don't remember her ever saying a swear word. I was practically an adult before I learned that some people complain all the time. For her, the biggest mistake a person can make is to give up. I was raised to think that quitting is a sin. My Mom and Dad were on the same page in regards to all these matters. This was the best gift ever given to me.

Blog readers (I hope using the plural form is not too presumptuous) may note that I have been writing mostly about Quakers and our peculiar notions. There is a good chance that I will continue doing this for a while longer because, quite honestly, it feels good to give voice to thoughts and feelings that have been part of me for so long. But it is also time to introduce one of the values that has made Quakerism, for me, so disarmingly familiar, so sticky and so coherent. I'm going to revert to the first person and not try to speak for all Quakers with this next idea. For me, being a Quaker does not raise you up in God's eye. Quakers do not have a special covenant or exclusive relationship unavailable to others (who may or may not belong to a faith community). We are not saved because of our beliefs and others are not condemned for not participating in (let alone not knowing about) what our small group thinks or does. The Light is way too bright to be only in our Meeting Houses (or only in our schools for that matter), or only available to our small Society of Friends (the legal name for Quakers, thus Friends Schools). Maybe this is why so many of my friends have said to me: "if I weren't (fill in the blank - Episcopalian, Catholic, Jewish, Hindu, etc.), I would be Quaker." When I hear that, it always makes me feel the bond, the ardor of their faith, and I want to say back, "if I weren't a Quaker, I would love to have been brought up in your faith."

Quakers have a history of non-conformity. After all, our Society of Friends was formed out of a heartfelt calling to separate from a dominant, dominating, and very hierarchical culture which prevailed in 17^th Century England. It all springs from a fairly simple notion: that there is that of God within each person. From here, we can connect the dots to a few other basic Quaker principals. Since the Truth is within each person, it can be discerned by individuals without intermediation from priests or clerics. Divine revelation continues even after the publication of scripture. We’re not as smart as we thought we were. OK I made the last one up, but I still believe that whenever we think we have The Answer, it is a good time to look around and place great value on the experiences that others have had, even (or particularly) when that experience is different from our own. Just saying.