May Moga Newsletter

Monthly Musings, MOOVEment, and Thoughts on Growth

Please note: I wrote most of this newsletter a few weeks ago, before our town experienced a heartbreaking loss. I know many of you are feeling the weight of that, and I’ve shared some personal reflections in the final thoughts section if you'd like to skip ahead. I hope this space can offer even a small bit of comfort in hard times.

Hey, y’all! It’s May! Woot woot! Since I’m writing this in April for it to drop on May 1st, I’m really just wooting to the idea that May will surely bring flowers since April brought us plenty of rain.

I often say to my friends that I wish my mood wasn’t so dependent on the weather, but if I’m being honest, it absolutely is. I’d love to be enlightened enough to wake up on the sixth straight grey and rainy morning, whip open my shades, and declare, “ALAS! Another grey and rainy day. What a miracle!” In reality, I spent many of my April mornings creaking open one eye to peek at my alarm clock and grumbling about how grey and dark and EARLY it is, before literally rolling out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. That’s where I’m at in my evolution of an enlightened human.

The ever-changing spring weather in New England - sun or rain?

But I believe we’re going to be gifted with plenty of flowers this May because we deserve it! And it’s already starting. I’ve even walked by a few plants coming to life and caught the sweet scent of floral aroma. Ah, one of my favorite parts of spring. I love May for so many reasons — warmer temps, less rain, the green leaves, and, my very favorite, lilac season! Aside from sunflowers, I think lilacs might be my top favorite flower. The smell is intoxicating. I’ve been known to take spring walks with a pair of scissors in hand just in case I spot a hidden lilac bush that’s far enough off the beaten path to allow me to borrow a few branches from private (ish) land. I do have a pretty good spot (shh), but last year, I also got permission to cut some right from the Fenn campus. Lucky me.

Another part of May that I love is my newfound motivation to move. A few weeks ago, a colleague organized a MOOVE challenge that had me moving more than I ever have before. I didn’t play sports growing up, but I think if I had, I would have realized that there’s a competitive edge in me that this challenge has really awakened. MOOVE is a relatively new fitness app that lets people create teams and leagues to compete against each other each week and into playoffs to see who can log the most movement. You earn points for all sorts of activities — from walking (I’m crushing this!) to yoga to archery. The points vary depending on the activity, so some movements are worth more than others. And you can even earn extra points at the end of the day for things like drinking 64 oz. of water or avoiding junk food and alcohol. It’s been a fun way to stay accountable while also competing in a low-stakes fun way with colleagues. What’s been particularly fun is seeing how everyone’s competitive spirit has kicked in. I’ve noticed myself pushing a little harder than I would on my own — walking extra steps, finding time to do yoga, and getting creative with different movements just to rack up more points.

Recently, I started keeping a daily journal—tracking things like food, sleep, mood, and my cycle—to better understand how my choices impact my energy and overall balance. One insight that’s come up: I’ve let my meditation practice slide. Whether it’s due to exhaustion or just the daily overwhelm, I’ve been skipping it in favor of crawling straight into bed at night. And that got me thinking about growth. Yes, I’ve fallen out of practice, but that doesn’t mean I’ve failed. I can recognize the slip and return to it whenever I’m ready. Growth isn’t always linear—it often looks like circling back, starting again, or simply noticing where we need to pay more attention. It’s like planting a garden and realizing the row you so carefully sowed didn’t sprout quite the way you hoped (although I’m really rooting for my newly planted cosmos!).

It actually reminds me of an interview I once heard on NPR about a book called The Gardener and the Carpenter: What the New Science of Child Development Tells Us About the Relationship Between Parents and Children. In it, the author, Alison Gopnik, challenges the modern idea of "parenting" as a kind of job — as if the goal is to carefully shape a child into a specific kind of adult, like a carpenter working with wood. Instead, she suggests that raising children is more like being a gardener: your job is to create a safe, rich, and nurturing environment that gives them room to grow, explore, and develop in their own way. She weaves in research from neuroscience and psychology to show that kids learn best through play, curiosity, and open-ended exploration — not from tight control or trying to engineer the outcome. The book is also a really thoughtful critique of the pressure and anxiety so many modern parents feel, especially around the idea of “doing it right” or turning kids into achievements.

I think this same idea applies to all of us, and I needed that reminder more than ever this month. As I sit here writing about all these inspiring ideas, the truth is—I’m still very much a work in progress. This past month was packed: work was busy, I was juggling a million moving parts, and there were plenty of days when I felt more like I was just surviving, not thriving. I definitely don’t have it all figured out, but I’m still planting the seeds and doing my best to move in the right direction.

So I’m beginning the month of May asking myself this question: Can we spend the time and care to nourish ourselves — giving ourselves what we need to grow, to explore, and to change, even if that progress doesn’t look neat or linear? Happy May!

Love Letters from Nature

I’m always so hopeful when we return from spring break to find those first daffodil shoots poking through the soil. And when they finally bloom, it’s my signal that spring has arrived. There’s something especially awesome about bulbs: you plant them in the fall with care and intention, not knowing exactly what will emerge months later. You do all the work upfront, and then… you wait (so hard!).

Life feels like that sometimes too. You might not see the benefits of caring for yourself right away, which is why it’s so easy to give up on new habits when they don’t “work” fast enough. That’s how I felt when I first started meditating. What’s the point if I’m leaving the cushion still feeling stressed? But, its these little reminders from nature, in the form of a single fully bloomed daffodil, that reminds me that some of the best things in life take time. And just because you can’t see the growth right away, doesn’t mean it’s not happening. <3

First signs of spring on the Fenn campus, Concord, MA.

Kid Moga

In education, we talk a lot about growth and progress — not just academically, but in how students evolve over time. At Fenn, one of the most powerful ways we see this growth is in the boys’ ability to engage with others and find their voice, especially through public speaking.

Fenn is grounded in four core values: honesty, respect, courage, and empathy. And more often than not, it’s courage that’s at work when boys (and adults, too) step into new, uncomfortable spaces. Whether it’s auditioning for the school play, speaking on stage, trying out a new sport, or starting fresh at a new school, there are so many moments when our community members are pushed into situations that feel scary.

I can think of several students who arrived here in sixth grade barely able to make eye contact, and by eighth grade they’re confidently speaking to an audience of 350+ people. Watching those transformations reminds me how important it is to face fear in small ways, over and over, in a place where you feel safe and supported.

I’m still learning that lesson myself. I’ll never forget my very first day at Fenn, when I got an email from the Head of School welcoming me — and inviting me to stand up at All-School Meeting (ASM) to introduce myself. Two hours into day one, and I was already plotting my resignation! Public speaking has always been a challenge for me. Even now, I still get nervous speaking at ASM. But I’ve gotten just a little more [dare I say] comfortable with being uncomfortable. I’ve learned to name the fear, take a deep breath, slow my speech (even when my knees are shaking), and just get through it.

And it’s in these small, shaky moments that I’m reminded of one of my favorite lines: the only way in is through. Fear is part of being human. It’s what happens next — the actions we take in spite of it — where real progress and growth unfold.

When I find myself standing at that podium, I often think of the boys I’ve seen grow into their voices, and I picture myself one day doing the same.

Recommendations from a Mindful Library

I’m reading quite a few books right now, and I’m already starting to think about what will make it onto my summer reading list. I’ll plan to share that in next month’s newsletter, but for now, I’m excited to share what I’ve read this month.

Birdsong is such a sweet and beautifully illustrated story about a young girl and her mom who move to a new house. At first, she’s unhappy about the move, but over time she builds a quiet and special friendship with her neighbor. The story follows them through the seasons — beginning and ending in spring — and shows how that friendship, and her connection to nature, helps her settle into her new home. This book is oh so sweet.

Birdsong by Julie Flett

This book hit home for me. I originally picked it up as a book that would help me discuss gender stereotypes in my upcoming library lesson, but instead it became a book that I needed like 25 years ago. It’s about Malú, a Mexican-American middle schooler who is navigating life with her mom, who she calls SuperMexican, and her dad, who shares her love of punk music. When her mom gets a new job, Malú has to move away from home and figure out what it’s like to start over — balancing her identity, her culture, and her creative voice in a new place. Along the way, she’s also pushing up against societal and cultural expectations, and trying to hold onto the pieces of herself that don’t always fit the mold. It’s about standing up for who you are, even when it’s hard, and figuring out where you belong. I loved it!

The First Rule of Punk by Celia C. Perez

G and I recently finished this book in preparation for an author visit we were hosting at Fenn. G, who doesn’t usually like to read independently, ended up finishing the book on his own one night when I couldn’t keep my eyes open. He couldn’t put it down. (Confession: because of this I have no idea how it all ends but he assured me it was good!)

Tight is a book about learning to navigate friendships, peer pressure, and the choices that shape who you become. It follows Bryan, a quiet kid from Brooklyn, who finds himself pulled into risky situations by a new friend. It’s a great story about figuring out when to go along, when to speak up, and what real strength actually looks like.

Tight by Torrey Maldonado

I wrote about this book a few months ago when I first started it. It was one of those books I picked up at work, and it ended up taking me a few months to finish because I kept putting it down to read something else. But when I picked it back up a few weeks ago, I was hooked. If you have boys in your life or work with boys, I can’t recommend this book enough. Part memoir, part investigative journalism, it touches on topics we don’t often openly discuss — from friendship, identity, and vulnerability to the way boys are socialized to hide their emotions. It’s thoughtful, honest, and well worth the read.

BoyMom by Ruth Whippman

This book is a hype book, and it was definitely worth the hype. Everyone has been talking about this book, and I’ve been in the mood to read a good fiction novel so I finally got my hands on a copy. It did not disappoint! The God of the Woods is a mystery set in the 1970s, centered on the disappearance of a teenage girl from an elite summer camp in the Adirondacks. As the investigation unfolds, long-held family secrets begin to surface, pulling you deeper into a layered story that’s hard to put down. So good!

God of the Woods by Liz Moore

Final Thoughts…

Last week, during spring break, four high school students in my town were involved in a serious car accident and three students passed away. I didn’t know the students or their families personally, but my kids did, and like so many in our community, we’ve been struggling to process the weight of this tragedy. This week was especially difficult because it was the first week back from break and the first time for the community to come together with heavy hearts. I can’t really explain it, but every time I pull onto campus I feel a hole—a palpable sense that something is missing. It’s a heavy, heartbreaking reminder of how fragile life is.

As a parent, it’s impossible not to spiral into the what-ifs. Loss like this brings up the hardest questions—about death, grief, and how we begin to move forward when the unthinkable happens. In our home, it’s stirred up deep conversations and lingering fears, and I imagine in many others too.

In times like these, I often turn to books. Stories have a way of holding what we can’t quite name, offering space for reflection, connection, and even a little peace. Below, I’ve shared a few books that have been especially meaningful to my family during times of uncertainty and loss—particularly those that point toward something greater.

Fear by Thich Nhat Hanh

The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success by Deepak Chopra

The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle

Man’s Search for Meaning by Victor E. Frankl

The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom by Don Miguel Ruiz

This month has reminded me how important it is to keep showing up, planting what we can, and trusting that even the smallest care can carry us forward.

Sending Love,

Leonor

Leonor is a licensed ELA teacher, Director of the Hammett Ory Library at The Fenn School, and Moga (Mindfulness + Yoga) Practitioner. She is also the mother of three boys and has learned a whole lot from making mistakes and trying again.