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This week on Monday Matters, Will and Jen are doing something they have not done before: talking about books they’re currently reading. Will talks about reading the book, The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese. Jen recently finished a book called Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May. Listen in to hear their reflections on their readings and the lessons they have learned from those books!
Below is a reflection on the Covenant of Water by William D. Parker:
Thoughts from The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese
I just finished the Pulitzer Prize-winning book, The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese, a brilliant novel set over decades of experience from the origins of a rural Indian girl whose family’s stories encompass generations of love, joy, heartbreak, sorrow, and discoveries—culminating in the life and experiences of the main character’s granddaughter.
I’m not one who wants to ruin a story for anyone else, so I’ll encourage you to check out the book if you love a compelling narrative. Verghese explains at the end of the book how much of the material began from writings his own mother shared with him. With his background as a medical doctor, the author adds perspectives only someone with a career in medicine could have accomplished.
More impressive to me, however, was his ability to place himself into the minds of multiple characters and allow readers to hear their thoughts, consider their cultural and linguistic perspectives, and become absorbed in the emotional ups and downs they each experience.
It is at the apex of the story when you finally realize how all their stories converge, like the image of water running in a stream, binding them together in ways they never imagined or even understood when examining their individual place in the story.
In other words, Verghese allows us the privilege of examining the lives of others connected by the thread of one family while having the benefit of seeing the whole picture—one that those individuals were unable to see themselves.
I think that is what I love most about fiction, whether it is books or movies—the ability to examine a story from a wider perspective to better understand the small moments.
Of course, as a father, a husband, and an educator, I’m asking myself these questions as I finish the book:
- If someone were to take a step back and examine the trajectory of my life and work, what common thread(s) would they see that perhaps I am unaware of?
- What moment(s) am I experiencing today, or even right now, that may play a significant role in something I experience later?
- What happens if I’m unable to view my experiences with the perspective that explores the impact of my words and actions—not just now, but for years to come?
Let me give an example of what I mean. Today, I was sitting in a virtual meeting with assistant principals who all serve schools in different parts of the same city. The twelve of us were discussing what happens when school leaders display the happenings of their school beyond the walls of their building; in other words, what happens when you share the wonderful or challenging experiences of a normal school day with your community at large?
As an example, we were watching a short video clip from Jenks High School, a school south of Tulsa, Oklahoma, where my friend David Beiler is principal. In 2019, their school published a video that began a yearly tradition where select seniors choose a teacher whose impact was most influential. Most of them chose teachers from their earlier years in elementary, middle school, or previous high school years. Each senior wrote a letter to that teacher explaining how their influence had made a difference in their lives.
Each senior then surprised their special teacher with a classroom visit and read their letters aloud while current students watched. The school’s media team followed each senior with a camera and captured each moment. The result was a heartwarming, tearful, and joyful reunion where both students and teachers bonded over sweet gestures of gratitude.
When the video was shared, it was downloaded thousands of times as students, parents, teachers, and community members experienced a small glimpse into the larger story of one school system—a place where individual experiences were tied together with a common thread of caring, learning, resilience, hard work, and achievement.
Isn’t this what we want for every school community? Isn’t it what we want for ourselves and our families—the sense of satisfaction that comes with knowing that what I’m doing makes a difference in the lives of others?
As I think about Abraham Verghese’s book, I am reminded of a scene where the main character, whom the others call Ammachi, is looking back over her life. She can see the threads that tied her to her husband, her children, and her community—the tragedies that marked them forever as well as the joys that bonded them in ways even death could not break apart.
If you are an educator reading these thoughts, you may not have the privilege of seeing where your influence lives on after your work with students is completed. My belief, however, is that your influence is immeasurable.
Even as I write these words, I’m reminded of the patient hands of Mrs. Blackwood, my first-grade teacher, who helped me form my first letters with primary-ruled paper and that large, yellow, jumbo-size pencil. Her memory lives on in my writing even though her memory of me is just one child among the hundreds she taught over 30 years.
Now It’s Your Turn
- When is the last time you thought about the people who influenced the person you’ve become today? If you could tell them thank you, what would you want them to know?
- When is the last time you looked over the work you are doing and asked: Where am I making a difference, and how can I be mindful today that even the smallest task may be producing large dividends later?
Thank you for being a part of making a difference for others, and thank you for doing what matters!
