Albas

Quercus alba is a distinctly American tree. Its water-tight hardwood is a favorite for whiskey and wine barrels. The height and splinter-resistance of white oaks is perfect for masts, agricultural tools, and homebuilding. Its strength and density are what helped the USS Constitution earn the nickname “Old Ironsides.” In fact, the Navy maintains “Constitution Grove”—a special grove of white oaks in Indiana—just for the purpose of keeping the oldest commissioned war vessel (1797!) in ship shape.

Imagine abandoning a place like Constitution Grove. Trees able to resist the blows of cannonballs. Oaks able to catch mighty gales when stretched with sails. Albas tall, regal, and white. Abandoned?

Never.

Many schools don’t realize what we have growing in our forests. Those seniors—weathered by many seasons, tall and hardy, are built for adventure, for leadership, for heritage. The worst thing for them is to raise them for years and then deny them a mighty post. And the best cure for senioritis is to treat seniors like hardwoods ready for the responsibilities of adulthood.

White oaks do so well sailing the high seas and aging bourbon because they have tyloses—cell structures that prevent rot from spreading in the heartwood. When seniors are captured with a vision for their own legacy, it’s like triggering their own rot-resistant response to senioritis. Suddenly, they begin to carry their heads a bit higher, to lead, to persevere like the elder statesmen of the school.

After all, “The alban head is a crown of glory” (Prv 16:31). May God bless our school with seniors mighty as white oaks.