Head of School's Message: February 27

Track fever has broken out. The threat of wet wintry weather has postponed one of the marquee events - the Lower School Sports-A-Thon, which will be rescheduled for Monday, March 6. The kids are ready. Following heavy rainfall or a hailstorm, such as the one we experienced last week, the field drains and dries within two to three hours because of the sandy soil. Let's hope the clouds disappear. 

 

The forecast is clear for the Paul Korn Invitational Track Meet for local independent middle schools scheduled for Friday afternoon. Five schools are scheduled to participate. Each will bring forty competitors entered in various events, including shot-putt and high jump. The field will be chalked with running lanes for sprints and distance events. Of all the youth sports I have been fortunate to watch at Chandler, nothing compares to the relays that conclude the track meet. A large crowd will ring the field standing behind temporary orange fences erected for the occasion. Spectators will be shoulder-to-shoulder on the Lower School balconies, and the bleachers by the gym will be packed. The atmosphere is charged with a festive, competitive, community spirit and all being well, Chandler teams will take first place!

During the afterschool program and throughout the morning and lunchtime recesses for the past two weeks, 7th Grade Spanish Teacher Oscar Lugo has offered coaching tips to the sprinters and hurdlers who take advantage of his expertise and the extra practice time. I counted over fifty students at one of his sessions. Thanks to two of these events, Bill Anderson and the PE department’s organization, and the commitment that faculty make to supporting the programs by judging and timing, track is an integral part of the athletic culture at Chandler. 

On Wednesday, at their invitation, I joined Ms. Hampton’s First Grade Boys during P.E. class in a one-loop race around the field. I used to dominate these moments, and I told the boys so before the start. They scoffed. When the whistle blew, the boys got off to a flyer, and despite a reasonable effort, I finished dead last, crossing the finish line to the sound of first-grade disdain.