I graduated from high school in June of 1964, sixty years ago. That simple fact doesn’t begin to suggest its double blessing. First, the school was located in The Hague, Holland. Second, I was taught by some remarkably gifted teachers. Two stories. Two blessings.
In the middle of tenth grade, my family moved from New York City to The Hague. My father had accepted the challenge of opening up a European office for his New York based business which imported and traded in pharmaceutical grade chemicals. This was in the early days of the Common Market, the economic leading edge of what became the European Union. His office in Rotterdam gave the American Roland Corporation a foothold in Europe. It also brought the family to Holland where we settled in The Hague, a short drive from Rotterdam and home to the International School my sisters and I attended. My Internat classmates were the sons and daughters of diplomats and embassy or consular personnel (from the U.S. and half a dozen other countries), business men and women, and members of the American military stationed in Holland.
For 2 ½ years, tenth grade through graduation, I learned French from Madame DeSauvagie and Madame LaCarrière, native French speakers now living in Holland. Dr. DeWitt (Yale Ph.D.) taught history, but not just the comings and goings of political leaders and the international community’s war and peace. He blended this with the history of science and of literature and art. We were exposed to intellectual history and the workings of class and economics in shaping events. It wasn’t until I undertook a graduate degree in history that I began to recognize how well Dr. DeWitt had prepared me to appreciate the power of a deep and broad understanding of the past. He moved to Amsterdam as a gay man, finding there the welcoming community not yet available to him in the U.S. Mr. Adams taught civics and I learned more about the workings of democracy and the responsibilities of citizenship than, sadly, most students are exposed to today. There was, of course, math and chemistry, but while pursuing A’s propelled me to study, my interests lay elsewhere. Strangely enough, as I was looking back at my high school yearbooks, I found this note from Mrs. Jokinen next to her picture. “To my best algebra student. Sorry class was so boring.” Funny, I wonder whether she had me confused with someone else or was delusional. I remember neither being a great algebra student nor being bored.
My favorite teacher was Mr. Aronson, the school principal and the instructor of my senior year AP English class. We had weekly vocabulary assignments, drills, and tests, with the Harbrace Vocabulary Workshop as our text. There were Latin and Greek roots, prefixes and suffixes, synonyms, antonyms and homonyms, lessons in dictionary use and word analysis. We took museum field trips and read great literature, from Conrad’s Heart of Darkness to Shakespeare’s Hamlet, dissecting and mining them in class, and then writing about them. We wrote weekly essays which we got back heavily marked up with both corrections and compliments and graded for content, style, and mechanics. Mr. A. gave me my first in-depth exposure to the art and craft of writing.
The seeds of my future political career were planted at the Internat, first as a Junior when I won a seat on the Student Council and then in 12th grade when I was elected president. A picture of me speaking and gesturing to my schoolmates made it into my first campaign brochure when I, some 30 years later, sought election to the Massachusetts House of Representatives.
Beyond the blessing of having had some great teachers and experiences, there was the joys of travel and, specifically, the gift of living in a culture and environment different from the one I was born into. Being yanked from that familiar setting, at first disorienting and disruptive, turned out to be a defining, life-altering experience. The change allowed me to take note of my environment and my setting in ways I might not have been able to do but for stepping out and getting a different perspective. Ever since, I have felt drawn and empowered to step back and see the waters in which I am swimming, to be simultaneously engaged in and an observer of my life and the world about me.
I took my first tentative steps away from the religious practices that had shaped my family life. I took weekly piano lessons from a fascinating recluse who had studied with Robert Casadesus, the celebrated French pianist and composer. I went out on my first date and had my first girlfriend, a 3rd grade crush notwithstanding. I met Kit who became a cherished and lifelong friend.
But this above all: To some special teachers and to my adventuresome parents, thank you for the many opportunities and challenges you gave me at this important time in my life, the precious gifts of a lifetime that just keep giving.
Student Council President, eh? I didn't realize your political career had started so early. How true your comments about gaining a new perspective. Mine came in Paris, first at 7 and later, at 20, and clearly changed my outlook.
Can it possibly be that long ago! we were truly to have had that experience.