There was a child went forth every day,

And the first object he looked upon and received with

       wonder or pity or love or dread, that object he

       became,

And that object became part of him for the day or a

       certain part of the day . . . .  or for may years or

       stretching cycles of years.

The early lilacs became part of this child,

. . .

And the March-born lambs, and the sow’s pink-faint

       litter, and the mare’s foal, and the cow’s calf, and the

       noisy brood of the barnyard or by the mire of the

       pondside . . and the fish suspending themselves so

       curiously below there . . and the beautiful curious

       liquid . . and the water-plants with their graceful flat

       heads . . all became part of him.

. . .

The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the

       crafty lure,

The family usages, the language, the company, the

       furniture . . . . the yearning and swelling heart,

Affection that will not be gainsayed . . . . The sense of

       what is real . . . . the thought if after all it should

       prove unreal,

The doubts of daytime and the doubts of nighttime . . . the

       curious whether and how,

Whether that which appears so is so . . . . Or is it all

       flashes and specks?

. . .

These became part of that child who went forth every day,

       and who now goes and will always go forth every day,

And these become of him or her that peruses them now.

                                                                        Walt Whitman

      If a reason can exist for the improbable act of starting a school, Whitman’s words are its ground and horizon.  They prefigure my beliefs about childhood and learning.  The minute particular in the life of a child cannot be mapped.  It is nevertheless the territory we strive to make vital—when our students are engaging with an enduring text, a pattern sensed but not yet understood, a language no longer spoken, yet alive with promise and possibility.

      The Pierrepont School, in its tenth year, has surpassed my most daring expectations.  Andrew and I marvel at the rigor, warmth, grammar and beauty that is the context for our children’s education and days.  We are grateful to our brilliant faculty, our beloved students and the families who make it so.

                        Eleanor Chai Beer