A building does not define us

I've just had the best weekend in a very long time. Lately I've been talking - well, whining, really - about all the changes going on in our family, how things I love are ending and how sad I am. This weekend I gained a whole new perspective ....

I went to a much beloved Catholic high school in the south end of Hartford. In the late 70's and early 80's, South Catholic was a state basketball powerhouse and had enrollment over 1100. South drew students from Hartford's south end and surrounding towns, with a strong Catholic and family tradition. My graduating class had almost 270 students, and I knew every single one. Many classmates had older and younger siblings, and those who attended in the early days sent their children. The South family was close knit, and it was sad to see enrollment dwindle in the late 80s, with attendance dipping to a fraction of what it used to be. Even so, the South tradition was strong, and we all thought South would survive.

In 1991, the Archdiocese of Hartford made the devastating announcement that South would be closed. I remember attending a standing room only meeting in the school auditorium, where the committee to save the school told us the terms: raise funds and increase enrollment, and the school would remain open. We rallied, as we always did, and both terms were met. That winter, South won the 1991 state basketball championship. Several days later, despite our community's heroic efforts, the Archdiocese announced that the decision was final: after the class of 1991 graduated, South would close forever. I still have the newspaper articles and final newsletter tucked into my yearbook. It felt like a death in the family, something precious was gone.

Yet a building does not define who we are. Those who walked those halls everyday were what South Catholic was all about. I never felt this more than last night, when I attended the All-Class Reunion at Northwest Catholic, which graciously hosted our community for this very special event. Over 500 strong attended, from classes spanning the 60's, 70's, and 80's, and early 90's, including those who would have graduated had South remained open. We shared stories about school uniforms and dress code violations, team rivalries, musical productions, beloved teachers, and those who were no longer with us. The reunion lasted well beyond the posted end time, with classes mingling, seeing old friends and making new ones. It's hard to put into words how special that night was, and how we all wished it wouldn't end.

So this afternoon, I watched my 9 year old and her friends sing the national anthem at a local minor league baseball game. As we were leaving, one of the moms asked me to email her a picture for the yearbook. A week ago, I would have had one of my sad, lump in the throat moments. But not today.

A building does not define us. It is the community, the friendships, the people who we carry with us as we move forward that make up who we are. That is the gift that my girls bring with them as they move on to the next school, the next adventure. South Catholic taught me that. I guess we never really stop learning.