by Dr. Mike Davis
Head of School

Last week was bookended by the cancer deaths of two icons in the entertainment industry, one that I will recall from my upbringing, and another that perhaps our children will.  Each man was just 69 years old.

David Bowie. Sometime in college, I was messing around with my electric guitar and found my fingers falling into the chord progression for "Ziggy Stardust." I knew the song, but had never really "heard" it until I played the actual chords.  I went out and bought that album as well as "Hunky Dory." Of course, I got pulled into the sounds and the music of this innovative and eccentric artist. As Billboard Magazine puts it, Bowie “changed the look and sound … of rock 'n' roll, and did so with otherworldly fearlessness, impeccable flair, and a profound intellectual curiosity.” What Bowie so often did was to bring notes and words to his state of “otherness.” He was never afraid to try on new ideas or to reinvent himself. Again from Billboard, “Bowie made constant reinvention the engine of pop.” 

Alan Rickman. Later in the week, Alan Rickman died, the talented British actor who will be remembered by millions of young people as Severus Snape in the “Harry Potter” films. Of course, I’ll also remember him in films like “Die Hard,” “Robin Hood,” and “Truly, Madly, Deeply.” Remarkably, Rickman only made his first movie at age 41, but he also directed film and theatre performances and acted as part of the Royal Shakespeare Company. The Internet lit up with accolades and tributes. Daniel Radcliffe, who played Harry Potter, posted a statement online saying Rickman was "one of the greatest actors I will ever work with, and one of the nicest, as well.”

In addition to the coincidental matching ages of these men both felled by cancer, what is notable is not just the great talents we have lost, but of the remarkable grace with which they passed. They leave gaping holes in the lives of their families and fans; they leave behind noteworthy impact in their life’s work, and they leave a legacy of having been people who followed their passions and in doing so, set a newer, higher standard with their talents. 

This week, we heard from SPEAK lecturer, writer, and activist Jonathan Mooney. For those who were able to attend, they know that Mooney didn’t learn to read until he was 12 years old. He was diagnosed with dyslexia, ADHD, and more. His self-esteem suffered so much that he wanted to kill himself and had a plan to do so by the sixth grade. Yet, he defied all the odds and ended up with an honors degree in Literature from Brown University. He is a three-time published author, and now, helps others overcome the same struggles he faced.

Mooney had many messages about people being “disabled,” not by their own constitution, but by the self-concept created by the world around them. Among his remedies are a focus on students’ strengths and helping kids finding a passion that sets them on a path to a fulfilling life.

The night after Bowie’s death, I was watching some of the news coverage about his passing. One channel was playing the D.A. Pennebaker 1973 concert film "Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars." I called my children into the room, because, to appreciate Bowie fully, one has to see him.  I assumed that they would leave the room as soon as they could politely duck out.  But, they all stayed and watched. They saw this (albeit sometimes crazy) guy who pushed boundaries and pursued his passions with all his might.  One of my children said that she could understand why the media were talking about Bowie’s influence on society and popular culture.

 
The lesson before us, it seems, is to not to live life meekly, but to find what we love, pursue it with gusto, disprove our naysayers by way of our humility and success, and to know that no matter what we do, it is how we treat others in our lives that will cast the longest shadow.