by Matt Schrier, Director of AfterSchool & Summer Programs
From the moment I was commissioned to build the Norris Award Tree, I knew that I was in way over my head. Early iterations flopped epically and pressure began to mount as I realized the scope and significance of the project. Both structural and aesthetic elements would need to be timeless, while standing as a tangible reminder of so many amazing educators that have shared their craft with our school community. I was both honored and terrified.
The delivery of the Robert Norris Award has always been an emotional experience. Splitting real estate on the bleachers with my colleagues and listening to the warm words that Cyndi shared about her brother Robbie always resonated with me. For most of my youth, school was synonymous with fear, struggle, and pain. Cyndi's remarks about the teachers who made a difference in Robbie's life always left me daydreaming about what it would have been like to be a student at McGillis. Would school have been different? Would I have felt like I belonged there? The moment the Award is announced is special and such a fitting recognition of the accomplishments of educators that are often hard to put into words. A sculpture that represented this achievement would need to be special.
One afternoon, I took to the space where the tree would “grow,” and with blue painter's tape, I began to experiment with lines on the wall. Early attempts had followed curved, organic patterns that simply didn’t fit. As I constructed the trunk, the bold, straight lines of blue adhesive presented the first signs of a strong beginning.
As the limbs effortlessly flowed from the trunk, it was clear what our tree had become: a bristlecone pine. Bristlecones are some of the oldest living organisms on the planet. They are magnificent—thriving in small groves that lie high on lonely mountains, humbly existing in harsh climates. Much like great teachers, they are wise, have learned how to adapt to adverse conditions, and thrive in their environment with very little.
Over the next six months, the tree began to take shape in my dusty old garage. I constructed the trunk from pieces of thick Cherry that would support its weight, and the geometric contours of the limbs were joined and fashioned together with large slabs of Alder, each one angled and dense. I made sure that multiple textures of sandpaper found their way across the flat surfaces and every square inch of the tree’s crevasses, cracks, and corners, careful not to move too hastefully. Several coats of protective finish were rubbed into the porous surface of the smooth wood, and it soon adopted a warm, polished appearance. It was then assembled piece by piece, with the tip of its trunk anchoring it safely to the rafters of my garage. It was pretty, and I was proud.
Constructing the tree has been the most challenging thing I have made. I’m no engineer, pretty crummy at math, and a hack woodworker at best. It tested every bit of my ability to make something that would support the weight of the steel books that commemorate our teachers on its branches and look as though it belonged in our Kehilah.
We dedicated the tree one late summer afternoon with a small group of people, including members of the Baughman/Norris families, and a handful of past recipients of the award. I shared some words about my vision for the project and how grateful I was to be part of something that would hopefully transcend my time at the school. To this day, that evening was one of my proudest achievements at The McGillis School. For me, that night will always represent a culmination of the time and experience I have shared with so many amazing people in this community.
Last year, I was lucky enough to receive the Robert Norris Award. The days that followed were perhaps the best gift of all. My thoughts were flooded with cataloged memories of the past 15 years, punctuating so many incredible adventures along the way. Time flies, and the marking of this occasion made me take stock and realize that not only has McGillis become the origin of my career, but it has also become my home. Like Robbie Norris’ teachers, The McGillis School has always believed in me, like it does with so many who find their way inside its walls. They took me in with little experience and gave me all the tools, guidance, mentorship, and freedom to be my authentic self and thrive in our community. From my first teaching assistant gig with Jayde Prudden to mentoring my own group of Magpies in our After School program, McGillis has always been there to help me believe in myself and to provide me with a sense of belonging. Winning the Norris Award is just the icing on the cake.