In Chess, the Rook is patient and powerful. It doesn’t leap impulsively like the Knight or move diagonally like the Bishop. The Rook waits, guarding the board with quiet conviction. Its strength is not in constant motion but in knowing when to step in and when to hold its ground. This is one of the great disciplines we practice at Acton and one of the hardest questions Guides and parents face: Do I step back or step forward?

Imagine this…you are standing on a long chessboard with black and white squares forming a quiet rhythm. You look across the board and you see a King standing calm at the back–steady, observant, waiting. Before the King are all his children, the pawns, lined up in a row. The pawns are small, eager, and ready to move. One pawn inches forward a single square. It feels small, almost insignificant–yet that single step begins the entire game.

Imagine this….you are about to walk on stage. The lights are bright, dozens of eyes are watching you. Your heart races, your hands sweat, yet you know you’re ready. You’ve practiced, you’ve made a plan, you have a clear vision of what you want to say and share, and with that confidence, you step forward.

Imagine this, it’s 12:45 on Tuesday and a challenge is given: Place your idea into the Promises Machine. At the sound of “3, 2, 1…Break!” learners scurry. Colorful sticky notes are grabbed in a hurry, markers squeak across paper, and the room fills with quick bursts of recognition: “Oh, I know!” “That happened yesterday!” “Yes — we need that one!”

A few weeks ago, I looked out over the wide, green fields at our Acton Main campus. So much life was sprouting — grass, clover, the future beginnings of an orchard. As I pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the long drive, I stopped suddenly. In the middle of all that green, one bright sunflower stood tall. This sunflower hadn’t been planted. It wasn’t intended. Yet there it was — rising, strong, and basking in the sunshine.

Imagine the first day of something new. You step into a room filled with voices, laughter, and unfamiliar faces. Your heart races a little as a thought bubbles up — Will anyone notice me? Will anyone choose me? Will I find a friend here?

It doesn’t matter if you are four, ten, or forty-five — that quiet question hums in the background of every new beginning. All of us long to be seen, to be chosen, to belong.

Imagine this…you are a young traveler stepping into a forest. The air is alive with whispers of adventure and one by one other travelers begin to appear. Some travelers are bold, some quiet, all carrying unseen gifts. No one yet knows each other’s names, but one truth is clear: no traveler can journey alone. 

It’s the final day of the 2024-2025 school year and to honor our journey I invite you to reflect on the flight path we’ve taken. Our takeoff was strong — filled with anticipation, curiosity, and courage. We soared through stretches of smooth skies and sunshine, where joy and discovery were abundant. But like any true journey worth taking, we also faced turbulence — bumps, storms, moments of uncertainty and challenge. This year, both our school and I were tested in ways we’ve never been before yet I believe we’ve emerged transformed, stronger, wiser, and more grounded in purpose. Now, as our plane touches down and engines begin to quiet, I ask: Do you see rainbows?

A young girl named Annabelle had a box of yarn and a passion for knitting. One day she knitted herself a jumper, her dog a jumper, and then quickly her neighbors, friends, animals — everyone in her community — and even houses and trucks! She transformed her black-and-white world into one filled with color and joy, simply by sharing her gift. Even when others tried to steal it, Annabelle’s creative and joyful generosity could not be taken.

Take a moment, right now. In your own work or life, what’s more important: completing the task or building the team?

Now imagine this…You and four friends are launching a small, local business. The dream? To be the best in your field. The vibe is exciting and full of promise—until it’s not. Two friends are arguing about who should lead, another is frustrated that no decisions are being made, and two others are quietly combing through documents, desperate to move things forward.

There’s a tree—not one grown from the ground but one planted in purpose. It’s branches stretch upward, open, and waiting. At its base, stones rest quietly, each one representing a piece of growth yet to be revealed. Tied to it’s limbs are colorful ribbons, each a hope, a whisper of who a hero is becoming. This is our tree at Acton that offers heroes the opportunity to dream and invites the ritual of being willing to grow together. It stands tall in our lobby, a daily reminder for every hero who walks past: your magic matters. It stands as an offering—to hope, to change, to possibility.

Imagine this…you are a learner (8, 9, or 10) and you prepare for your field trip to the local university’s collection of bugs for Entomology Quest. You visit this local gem of an insect collection with your peers with great enthusiasm and curiosity. There’s magic in the collection yet the true magic unfolded while you explored campus. Hand in hand, you and your friends walked the pathways, ventured into lecture halls, and felt what it would be like if you were a college student. What would life be like in 10 years? Who would you be?

This past weekend I cozied on the couch with my family and watched Mufasa: The Lion King, the prequel in the Lion King series telling the story of the Pride Land King. I was expecting a heroic tale of strength, battles, and the rise of a king but what I didn’t expect—what completely stayed with me—was a quiet revelation about leadership and destiny.

I love coffee and every now and then on my way to school in the morning I stop into Starbucks for a quick latte and sometimes a quartet of coffees for the team. One day this Winter I walked into the coffee shop and heard “Good morning” from a man sitting in a booth perfectly pointed at the door. I was in a rush and was surprised. I barely noticed him and felt bad that I missed his greeting. As I stood waiting for my coffee I noticed him greet each person hello and goodbye and I was taken by his kindness. Regardless of who reciprocated he remained steady and retained his large smile and joyous energy. The next day, I came in for coffee and saw him again. I thought––was this a regular thing? Yes!

For the last two months we’ve welcomed a handful of curious learners into the studio to experience real life at Acton. A coveted shadow day is the last component of our school’s application process and I would argue it is the most valuable part of the process. Why? First, we all get to learn more about a new learner in real time and to balance, that learner gets to see behind the sometimes messy curtain of our Acton process. Second, shadow days invite current learners to be mentors, practice welcoming fresh eyes into the studio, and each day serves as a reminder that Acton is a choice, not just for parents but for every learner!

Butterflies are often perceived as magical. They are nature’s most perfect example of change, transformation, and growth.

While painting flowers, 17th century hero Maria Sibylla Merian, noticed hanging caterpillars and began documenting their gradual transformation. Maria challenged the misconceptions of her time. Many believed butterflies emerged spontaneously from mud yet Maria's work revealed the true life cycle of these creatures.

When Jeff and I started Acton Academy, we spent a lot of time pondering how we could prove learning beyond simply giving a test. We thought about our own children. How did we know when they had learned to walk? They walked! How did we know they could add and subtract in their heads? We’d play the card game “21” with them. For writing? We could see a comparison of the notes and stories they had written to us over time. This was the kind of proof we wanted at Acton Academy —applying learning to real-world situations and problems to show what the children could do not just how they could take a test. We knew we’d have portfolios of work and online dashboards to give detailed data documenting progress but what were we missing?

At Acton we often talk of gifts and talents. Our current projects have added a mathematical element to this discussion: Can you calculate your odds of success? As the Eagles have been busily wrestling with the theory of probabilities and risk assessment, the Socratic discussions have all pointed to the question: Does the past determine the future? More personally, can I determine my future based on my actions today?

I awaited my cappuccino with a foggy mind and heavy heart. Why is the Acton journey so hard for parents, me included? How can we build that simple, binding trust in the process so parents feel confident even when it’s hard? Why is it hard for us to trust our children and let them experience frustration and even failure and pain. Suddenly I heard a familiar voice from my past, “Laura?” I spun around. There stood Sandy. 

This week I had the privilege of speaking to a friend and fellow Acton leader, Vijay Shah from The Humanist Academy (THA) in Dallas, Texas. It is my opinion that Vijay’s gift is to remain deeply present in every moment and he does so with great warmth, wonder, and positivity. Vijay and I talked about growth and failures and he generously shared a letter he recently wrote to his parent community. He gave me permission to share it with you. His words were just what I needed to hear and maybe just what we all need…I am on Vijay’s boat, and I hope you are too!