PVCC’s President Hosts a Garden Party
photo: Cake Bloom
“She hit the ground running from her first day in July. Everyone at the College has a story about Jean—what a whirlwind of positive activity. Somehow, she’s everywhere at once—greeting students in the parking lot, handing out pizza or ice cream, walking students to class. Her enthusiasm for student success is infectious. She recognizes the value of each employee and directly communicates her appreciation. The new Prez brightens your day whenever you interact with her. She flat-out brings joy.”
Who wouldn’t delight in earning this first semester report card?! And it’s impossible to resist joining the alleluia chorus. Jean Runyon and I met in the memorial garden on an early August morning, and she pointed out her view of the garden from her now-blindless office window. We ambled about, around dogwood and under crape myrtle. She asked, “Will you tell me about these mountains.” We sat at a picnic table. I asked, “Have you watched the kites flying from the hillside?” Jean’s thrill almost tangible, her face radiates satisfaction in her new position at Piedmont Virginia Community College. Lacking all pretense, blending expertise with instinct, to me she’s a girl who loves her job and knows exactly how to do it. Though this job’s demands make it far from an easy one, Jean speaks and moves with practiced ease. One vignette (among plenty) captures her way. While talking with a faculty member in the main hallway, she spotted a lost first-time student hoping to sign up for classes. Introducing herself as “Jean,” a now threesome chatted as they strolled to the admissions center.
“If my dad (career Navy so moved a lot) were still here, he would proudly say he chose my career for me! And Miss Eure, my sixth-grade teacher, had a profound influence on my life. Her innovative, experiential approaches to learning, her genuine care and compassion for her students, and her belief in our potential were awe-inspiring. Education is a lifelong opportunity to explore, learn, grow, and become. I’ve been conducting ‘discovery tours’ on campus and in the community to listen and learn. I often ask, ‘Tell me your PVCC story.’ I’d love to hear from alumni, community members, and friends of PVCC. Everyone can send an email to jrunyon@pvcc.edu. Yes, I believe in the transformative power of education.”
Cozy within herself—comfy on the planet. Her dad would be proud of his daughter. Miss Eure would be proud of her sixth-grader.
Loving The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett as a child, how right that Jean suggested an autumn garden party. No finer spot at the College for her to meet and chat with former students, local educators, my college friends, original garden planters in 1999 and current weeders in 2022. Here’s jean jacket clad Jean’s take: “This weekend’s gathering in the garden at PVCC was magical. The setting, the almost last warm day before winter, the still vibrant colors of the leaves, the rich conversations and reflections made for a perfect afternoon.” Jean served Cake Bloom’s assorted pastries and signature shortbread cookies topped with (edible) pansies. Crisp apple cider confirmed her move to Virginia.
Hearing Robert Frost recite “The Road Not Taken” fills me with promise every time. Roads twist and turn. Crossroads demand decisions. “I took the one less traveled by / And that has made all the difference.” Sometimes the road spreads wide open. Bright sunshine extends an invitation. President Jean: “I believe that I am where I’m meant to be. I’m glad the road taken took me to PVCC.”
One whole dance. One full circle dance.
Betcha Walt Whitman would be dancing to this rendition of his “I Sing the Body Electric” (from the musical “Fame”) performed at the 2020 Grammy Awards. What an electrifying sight and sound, a bevy of treats that includes Cyndi Lauper, War & Treaty, and Common. Here’s wishing this same exhilaration for PVCC students at their graduations. Creating our own tomorrows, may we all sing “I celebrate the me yet to come / I toast to my own reunion.”
Electric Light Orchestra gives thanks for blue skies. Slide into this Glastonbury audience, jiggle-jangle. The keyboardist! The strings! “And don’t you know / It’s a beautiful new day, hey hey.”
A toast from Mr. Blue Sky. A toast to Ms. Blue Sky.
Told with McCarty’s characteristic wisdom, marvel, exuberance, and good will, Leaving 1203 is about navigating that way through. The author draws on all available resources—friends and strangers, food and laughter, life lessons learned in the very house she now empties, and, not least, her newly-inherited West Highland terrier, Billy. McCarty simultaneously learns and deftly teaches the fine arts of remembering, letting go, and holding on to what matters most. She not only finds the way through, she shows the way.
the greatest gift an author could give a reader… lessons of a universally philosophical and existential kind… a touching journey… a welcome, upbeat ride
Read More & Buy