Dear Parents,
This week, I want to write about kindness.
Not the kind that arrives wrapped in a gift or announced but the quiet, deeply intentional kind. The kind that finds you when you least expect it, and stays with you long after the moment has passed.
Today, I found myself at one of the city’s most renowned hospitals — the place where the queues are long, the waiting zones are crowded, and the sheer weight of it all can feel a little too much.
I was there for a family matter, navigating the corridors with that quiet anxiety that hospital visits tend to bring.
And then — out of nowhere — I saw a familiar face.
A GGIS parent.
A practicing doctor at that very hospital. He spotted me, walked right over, and without a moment’s hesitation, intervened. He made three calls — to the very doctors my father in law was about to see — and in the simplest of words, asked them to take care of my family.
Three calls. A few words. And yet, in that moment, I felt entirely seen
We speak often about the life of an educator and truthfully, it is one of the most underrated choices a person can make. It is not a profession one drifts into lightly.
It is service. It is labor rooted in love.
It is showing up, day after day, for children who will one day grow into the world — often without much acknowledgement of what that quiet, consistent presence truly means.
In a world where educators are rarely made to feel important beyond the classroom walls, today reminded me of something beautiful: when a parent truly shows up for the school — for the people within it — life has a way of coming full circle.
I walked out of that room with a happy tear. ❤️Overwhelmed not by the grandness of the gesture but by its sincerity.
He didn’t have to. But he did. And that, to me, is the rarest form of respect.
This week also marks a milestone for me — 7 years at GGIS as a school leader.
Seven years of mornings and milestones, of challenges and celebrations, of building something that I hope feels like more than just a school — a community. And as I look back, what I am most grateful for is not the accolades or the events, but the people.
The parents who have shown up alongside us but with something far more lasting: kindness.
To every parent who has paused to ask how we are not just how their child is doing, but how we are — thank you. You remind us that educators are human too. That behind every lesson plan and parent email and school assembly, there is a person who also needs to feel seen.
Thank you, Sir. Today, at the hospital, I received your kindness with all my heart and a happy tear as I walked out of your room.
We are educators. And we are equally, wholly, human.
