The Guy Came Barging through the Double Doors

Leaning forward, the guy came through the double-doors of our office like he was charging a castle. I walked up to greet him, though walk-ins were rare. With an uncertain look on his face, and eyes that were peeled back in a mildly aggressive posture, he said, “What do I get for this?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “Get for what?

“For this program. My daughter wants to do this program. What does she get for it? Like, some kind-of community service?”

What wasn’t said was that, like many parents with whom I spoke over the years, he wanted to know if the experience would give his child an edge in the college application process.

I never wanted to turn away a kid with potential, but I wasn’t in it to get kids into college, and that seemed like entirely the wrong-sided way of looking at experiential education- the purpose of which is to illuminate people’s best selves. And so to answer to the college-entrance-as-as-outcome question: yes it would help. Because undoubtedly your kid will be a better human for the experience, and if college entrance works the way it should, your child will stand out in some way – through essay quality or an in-person interview and probably grades to follow, because your child will love themselves.

Of course I didn’t say any of that. I don’t remember the conversation that followed. I probably went on robot marketing mode and gave a boilerplate spiel about having a comprehensively engaging experience, and he probably just glazed over.

Reflecting back on this experience, a certain quote comes to mind. I remember being instantly struck by the beauty of these words the first time I read them. If anything written ever speaks to the capacity of a guide to facilitate a transcendent moment, it is this piece by Barry Lopez:

“The most moving look I ever saw from a child in the woods was on a mud bar by the footprints of a heron. We were on our knees, making handprints beside the footprints. You could feel the creek vibrating in the silt and sand. The sun beat down heavily on our hair. Our shoes were soaking wet. The look said: I did not know until now that I needed someone much older to confirm this, the feeling I have of life here. I can now grow older, knowing it need never be lost.” (From Crossing Open Ground.)

So Mr barge-through-the-door-guy, to answer your question, “what do I get?” Your kid gets transcendence. If we do our job right and your kid gets to spend time in the company of an amazing guide, your kid will get to stretch into the open permission space where they will see themselves, their relationships to others, and the potential that they have in this one short life. They will grow into a more perfect version of their adult selves. They will find character and grit and resilience. They will find out their capacity to lead and to follow. They will learn humility and they will develop kindness and grace. They will walk the Earth softer and more concerned for its sustainability. They will find something deep in themselves that need never be lost.