FROM THE SCHOOLHOUSE

“ENJOY WHILE YOU CAN, ENDURE WHEN YOU MUST.”

Randy Houseman, the intrepid director of our Out Back program, first uttered these words to me shortly after I accepted the position of head of school at Holderness. In the time since, I've heard this motto repeatedly from our alums as they recounted their treasured memories from their 11-day excursion in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. But those words never hit me as hard as they did on a frigid Tuesday morning, waking up with my face stuck to the ground of a tent covered by a couple of feet of snow. Enjoy and Endure? I did plenty of both in March.

Nowhere but Holderness could Out Back (OB) take place. OB is a unique experience for our community, as relevant and powerful for the students who just returned as it remains for alums who went decades ago. It is impossible to adequately capture how much care, time, and work go into the planning and execution of this effort. But OB can only exist through this labor of love from scores of our adults, their action rooted in an abiding commitment to providing this once-in-a-lifetime growth opportunity. We celebrate our school for being a life-changing institution, and OB is a cornerstone, fundamental experience in that journey. Moreover, the lessons learned and wisdom gained translate far beyond a student’s time on our campus. As the new head of school, I wanted to experience those lessons for myself. The night before we ventured into the wilderness, we gathered in the Davis Center for the traditional OB sign-in ceremony. We heard the story of Kerry O’Connell, a long-time Holderness dining team member— and mainstay of OB base camp—who was tragically lost in a motorcycle accident this past fall. Year after year, Kerry arrived at base camp ready to cook and serve others. He did it all with a smile and served as a walking example of what we mean when we ask our students to “Live in community” during Out Back. Legendary OB figures Houseman and Harbo [Fred Harbison ’89] shared heartfelt thoughts about Kerry formed over the decades. “Live like Kerry” became our mantra, adorning our water bottles and calling us all to follow in his selfless example. You’ll learn more about Kerry’s example—and the examples of others like him—in this magazine.

My first OB experience will forever be defined most profoundly by the people I traveled with. My group lifted me up, both in spirit but also very much literally picked me up time and time again. I’ve struggled with some lower back issues this year, and a tough fall on the second day of our expedition triggered some significant pain. The combination of a few feet of snow on the ground with the heavy and awkward pack on my back had me doubting if I could make it for nine more days. My balance was off, my strength was down, and my motivation bottomed out. The low point was that moment of waking up in the tent with my face frozen to the ground, my back on fire, and wondering if I should just give up. But our students inspired me, filled me with hope, and got me through that day’s hike. They encouraged me, took things from my pack and carried it themselves to lighten my load. It was powerful to switch traditional roles with our students and to feel them leading the way and supporting me. I could feel how much it meant to them that I succeed, and their confidence and belief got me through a few really tough days. Solo gave me a chance to rest and recover, and I was in much better shape for the second half of our trip. But I never would have made it without my team!

When our group emerged from solo, their joy in reconnecting was palpable and overpowering—our last days together seemed to fly by as we harnessed the energy of being back together. Thanks to a curious mix of feelings, I sat quietly on the ride back to campus in our mini-bus. I was excited to see my family, proud that I had made it, and grateful to have had the gift of experiencing OB. I was physically and mentally exhausted. And I was also a tiny bit sad that it was over. It took three days for me not to smell like campfire smoke, but I’m quite sure I’ll never lose the feeling of sitting around that campfire each night.

Just as my own Out Back experience was emblematic of the Holderness we seek to be, so too are the articles and profiles that follow in this issue of Holderness School Today—stories of dedicated service, deep friendships, and profound growth—stories that bring our mission and motto to life, calling us to work for the betterment of humankind and God’s creation.

John McVeigh Head of School