A LETTER TO HH

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Hello,

First, I'm not quite sure what to call you, so I hope it's okay if, for the duration of this letter, I refer to you as HH. I would like to start by saying "thank you." I am who I am because of your Academies. When I was 10, I came back to my home country and immediately felt isolated from everyone around me. While they had stayed the same; I had not, in ways I could not hide. But the Academy gave me a home. The Academy gave me a place where I could be myself, and explore what that means. The Academy taught me to question what I was told and encouraged my innate curiosity. The Academy taught me to value others based on their core humanity, not on what they could contribute. At the Academy, I fell in love, I got hurt, I got in trouble, I cried; and despite it all, I held the place in a special part in my soul. This is not to say everything was perfect, but that it worked. I am a life-long learner because the Academy taught me how to harness this.

I write this with anguish in my heart; that a place I once considered my home has betrayed me in more ways than one. I see this betrayal in our students; who do not get the social and emotional support they need (especially those in younger years). I see this betrayal in the way faculty treat each other, often with an undercurrent of learned sexism, and tribalism. I see this betrayal in how the school treats its' Fellows - once considered an important part of the Academies - without due consideration, and respect. I see this betrayal in the duplicity of certain systems; which favour certain individuals and condemn others. I see this betrayal in the lack of communication between individuals, and the retroactive imposition of policies I see this in the times I am completely exhausted, but I must be present for the students. I see this betrayal in the dissonance between the vision and mission and its practice. I see this betrayal in the kind of behaviour we allow in our students; a sense of entitlement. I see this betrayal in how we treat our students in the financial aid programme; only supporting them when it is far too late. I see it in our students' breakdowns and tears. 

I am hurt. The Academy was going to be the place I would send my children too and I can no longer, in good conscience, do this. I don't know what I want you to do, but I want you to do something. These are your institutions and we need you to come back. The last time we met, I was in Grade 5 and we shook hands. In that moment, my mind, naively, hoped that we have formed some kind of kinship over that handshake and polite conversation. I am calling on this kinship, whether real or imagined, to ask you to do something, because I no longer love the Academy. I can no longer think about the Academy without being angry or frustrated. And this feeling is only growing.

Regards,

A Concerned Alumni

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