Dearest Ursuline Families and Friends,

I would imagine many of you are familiar with the story of Moses in the book of Exodus (or at least via The Prince of Egypt!). Though a perilous and confusing adventure, there is a part at the beginning that I’ve grown to appreciate more than the story of the wondrous miracles and natural phenomena it is often known for.

God appears and tells Moses, “I am sending you.” The interchange that follows reflects how many of us respond to God.  Moses’ first self-doubting reply is, “Who am I that I should go…?” to which God reassures him, “I will be with you…” Moses then questions, “But if I go to the Israelites […] they will ask me, what is his name?” God reveals His name and tells Moses to say with confidence, “I AM sent me to you.” Moses balks, “But suppose they do not believe me or listen to me?” God then presents Moses with two miraculous signs. Moses follows with his next excuse, “If you please, my Lord, I have never been eloquent […] I am slow of speech and tongue.” God promises to assist him in speaking and to teach him what to say. Moses, in his final act of desperation, exclaims, “Please, Lord, send someone else!”

I share this story because it is not too far from how I approached my first year as Dean of Students. I felt half-equipped, and more than anything, I had a welling fear of reading the students’ names at graduation. In the summer, I went to Dr. Shurley with a plan to get out of this particular graduation responsibility. Dr. Shurley attempted to reassure me, “You will grow to enjoy it, and it will be your gift to them.” Meanwhile, I had been bartering with Matt Lepley, our Senior Grade Dean, about all the other tasks I would do in his place if he would just read the names. All my excuses had fallen short, and I was standing in Moses’ place: “Please, Lord, send someone else!”

I’ve been thinking back to that first year as Dean of Students as I approach this year’s graduation. In August 2022, the Theatre was filled with more than 200 hopefully expectant and wildly nervous young women. I was one of them (just not as young). They were beginning their freshman year, and I was beginning my new role. None of us knew exactly what we were doing, but we were not about to let on that we felt intimidated by the great unknown ahead. We learned a lot that year– the value of stepping out in discomfort, the beauty in making mistakes and learning from them, the truth that we are more capable than we realize and that we can do hard things, the wealth of internal and external resources we have to help us on our journey, and learning how to serve each other daily in community. We grew so much that year. Was I still afraid to call names at graduation? Absolutely. I had fearful moments when I felt wholly inadequate and was worried about performance, but I also realized that when I focused more on being present than my performance, how special it would be to be part of that experience.

In my two decades at Ursuline, I never had the privilege of walking with a class as an advisor from the beginning to the end of their high school journey until I was paired with the Class of 2026. I cannot describe how joyful and painful it is to be at the end of our Ursuline time together. It’s like coming to the last pages of a really good book when you don’t know whether you should keep reading or make yourself stop because you don’t want it to be over. I did the math, and if there are 40 weeks in a school year, advisories meet together at least 320 times in the high school journey. In contrast, classes meet about 80 times. As advisors, we see these girls every week from beginning to end, and there’s no way to capture just what a privilege those relationships become. It took me over 20 minutes and seven takes in my office to record a goodbye video to my advisory for senior farewell without breaking down (the final homily, as they call it), but this encapsulates the gift it is to be an advisor. Parents, thank you so much for sharing these girls with us and becoming family to us too!

Dr. Shurley was right. There is nothing I want more than to present the Class of 2026 at graduation as a final gift and a moment to be present with them. I never would have realized how hard it would be to let go of this job as I step into another new role (Mr. Lepley, you’ll find that you are the luckiest!), and I look forward to resetting as a freshman advisor next year with the Class of 2030 to start a new journey.

Now God speaks to our seniors, “I am sending you.” I know there will be moments when they ask, “Who am I?” and “What if?” and “How will I?” And God will say the same thing to them as He did to Moses and me, “I will be with you.” The call is not for someone else. Each of these graduates is irreplaceable in the story and has a part that only she can play. We will continue praying for them as they step out into the unknown, and we will never stop thanking God for the sacredness of the time we had with them. To our Beloved Seniors, thank you for the ways you’ve changed me and Ursuline. It really is a better place since you came along. You are family now, and I pray as you go on that you will know without any doubt, “in our hearts you’ll always be!”

With immense gratitude and joy,
Mandy Briones
Dean of Students