Happy Last Day of School! Have a Wonderful Summer Vacation!
We have officially completed our second school year! Thank you so much to all of our students, families, teachers, volunteers, and supporters who have made SY21-22 such a wonderful year. We look forward to seeing you all next school year. Until then, have a wonderful summer vacation! Have fun, be safe, and wear sunscreen. –JPIIHS Team
Keep on reading to learn about how the students finished out the school year and to find out about some exciting updates for St. John Paul II High School!
JPIIHS Mother-Daughter Tea
We are so proud of our students Abigail and Averi for planning such a wonderful event!
Congratulations Sophomores!
Congratulations to our sophomores for completing their Sophomore Theses! We are so proud of all of your hard work.
Each sophomore chose the topic of their sophomore thesis, the only requirement being that it spans across two or more subject areas (e.g., philosophy and literature). This way, students are challenged to make connections throughout the school year.
In addition to writing an essay for their sophomore thesis, each student created an artifact: an object that demonstrates something about human exploration, culture, or history and is the materialization of the idea/argument that the student explores in their thesis. Students then presented their thesis and artifact to a panel of teachers, administrators, and board members to show what they have learned.
Well done, sophomores. You are now upperclassmen!
Light for a New Generation Capital Campaign
We have kicked off our our Light for a New Generation capital campaign to build a permanent home for St. John Paul II High School. We are currently in the early stages of the effort, meeting with members of the community. If you would like to schedule a meeting to discuss the effort, please contact our Capital Campaign Director, Theresa Branney, by calling 713-299-1945 or emailing tbranney@jpiihs.com.
First-Ever Adventure Gala!
We will be having our first-ever Adventure Gala on Saturday, September 17th! There are a number of great marketing opportunities and perks for companies/individuals who sponsor the gala (see sponsorship opportunities here).
If you are willing, consider asking your employer or companies you know to sponsor our gala. Anyone who is interested in sponsoring or connecting us to a potential sponsor can email our Director of Development, Gina Koshute, at gkoshute@jpiihs.com.
Thank you for helping to make our founding Adventure Gala a success!
JPII Outdoor Lab
Earlier this month, our students had the opportunity to experience the JPII Outdoor Lab at Annunciation Heights. We were so excited to be their first high school to participate in the program, which has been so successful at the middle school level.
19 JPIIHS students, our amazing science teacher, and a few of our wonderful parent volunteers got to spend 3 days and 2 nights at Annunciation Heights where they received faith formation, hands-on experiential learning, outdoor leadership training, and integration environmental stewardship.
Thanks JPII Outdoor Lab for this incredible experience!
Thank You, JPIIHS Parents!
Thank you to our amazing parents & students for making us feel so loved during Teacher Appreciation Week. We are so grateful for your support & encouragement!
Teacher Article
A Lenten (Half) Marathon
Josiah Engblom, Science Teacher
And then she passed me. I recently participated in the 49th annual running of the Horsetooth Half marathon. I don’t even enjoy running that much, so I blame my friend Francis for asking me again. The last time I ran this race I was 101st overall. 101st. Top 100? Surely I could crack the top 100 and have something to brag about. Then again, I am getting older; my knees hurt, I do not have time to train, it is too muddy outside, and not to mention that it was Lent. Mentally, how often have I turned my Lenten penance walk into an excuse to blame for just being crabby.
Where did this girl come from? In the end, I did accept the invitation to run with Francis. Afterall, running isn’t all that bad; it rather forcibly provides me the time and space to do some good, much needed thinking. I maintain that the best papers I have never written were composed on some of my longer runs. Oh well. Maybe Elon Musk will someday implant computers into our brains so all we have to do is hit print when we get home. Until then…
It was mile 12 and I was actually feeling rather good. Liturgically we begin Lent on the heels of the story of Christ’s baptism in the River Jordan by his older cousin, John the Baptist. John’s birthday, celebrated on the Summer Solstice, figures nicely into the narrative of he must increase, I must decrease. John prepared the way, and even prepared Christ for his 40 day examination in the desert; for Christ’s original Lent. Perhaps my own life is tied into that very same narrative: in preparing the way for others, I must decrease as others increase. I’ve never really liked :ent.
The wind was unfairly strong that day. Was this some kind of joke? Wasn’t it hard enough to run up the dam hill at Horsetooth? 40 mph headwind too? But I was ready. I had trained on these same hills and I had run this same race before; I knew I just had to put in a shift through the first 3 miles and the rest was downhill. I was certainly in the mix. Of course, there was no real way of knowing just how many were ahead of me, but top 100 seemed certainly possible. The course turned eastward putting the wind directly at our backs and I was striding along. Pace, cadence, (well medicat knees), and mental thoughts were all strong and just like that the finish was only 1 mile away. I had been passed by 2 or three younger, fitter 20-somethings by this point, but I could accept that.
Then she showed up. Right on my left side like a sprite leaping from cloud to cloud. Who was this little girl? And where is she getting her energy from? Suddenly I didn’t feel so well. Was I running through sand? Carrying extra weight? My cadence, my stride, my rhythm, my energy….was this the proverbial wall?
I could do nothing other than admire her fast, fleet footed flight right past me. Grit. I dug deep for the next 6 strides trying to keep up, summoning all my mental and physical strength to catch back up and pass her. Except I couldn’t. I could not draw her back in. She left me behind, all in the final mile of this race.
And then, out of nowhere, this strangest feeling I have had in a long time rushed over me. I smiled. I actually started to laugh out-loud. Of course she passed me. How beautiful, how fitting, how perfectly Lenten. He must increase, I must decrease.
She finished 20 or so seconds ahead of me and I went straight over to her. She was at the finish line hugging her mom and instinctively went over to her to congratulate her on her race. What an amazing run she just put together. My body left hurting, yet my spirits were positively uplifted. It turns out she was 13 years old, the same age as some of my students. I know nothing more about this girl other than her age, but she represents something so beautiful that I know absolutely does exist in our troubled world: hope.
Perhaps that is what I love about teaching; seeing these youth grasp onto Truth with a depth and understanding that just leaves me with that same smile. Isn’t this the project of a teacher? To see a student grapple with an idea, to connect and draw conclusions that challenge us to deeper thinking. Yes, may they increase, while I decrease. Tradition comes from the Latin tradere, meaning to trade or hand over. As teachers, our job (and joy) is to hand over the best we have to our students. In exchange, they give us this beautiful gift in return: hope.
I finished in 102nd place, with a smile.
In Lieu of a Student Article
A Bittersweet Goodbye (Until Next Time)
Elizabeth Yeh
Because it is finals week, I couldn’t get myself to ask a student to write an article on top of their other essays and tests. So, I thought I might take the article space to officially announce some bittersweet news.
This past Spring, I got engaged to a man I still can’t believe I get to marry. I find myself checking for the ring to make sure it is not just a dream! With this joy comes the dual excitement and loss of starting a new chapter of our life in a new place, as my fiance’s work will take us out of Colorado. I will miss so many things about Northern Colorado, where I grew up for most of my life. I will miss seeing my parents so much, which was such a treat after spending several years on the East Coast. I will miss taking walks in the park by my house. I will miss Horsetooth reservoir and JJ’s Pizza. I will miss Colorado sunsets. I will miss my parish. I will miss my old friends I came back to and the new friends I have made in the past couple years. And I will miss St. John Paul II High School and all of the people I have met while here.
It has been an incredible blessing to be a part of this school from the beginning, and I cannot wait to see where the Holy Spirit leads it. Starting a school during a pandemic is not always easy, but I have not once regretted leaving Boston to join you all in this endeavor. I will never forget the generosity, time, effort, and love I have seen at St. John Paul II High School. There are so many people I want to thank: the board for their commitment and mentorship, the faculty for their hard work and friendship, the families for their “yes” to this school and its mission, the students for making me smile daily, the donors and volunteers for making this school possible. Thank you all for all you have done for St. John Paul II High School and for me personally.
Although June will be my last month officially working at the school, I will be back often to visit often and attend as many events as I can. I hope to see you all around. You all and the school will be in my prayers.
From the Headmaster’s Desk
Inevitabilities in Education
Blaise A. Hockel
The adage goes that there are two inevitabilities: death and taxes. In education, there are a few more. You can reliably count on procrastination, angst, emotional instability, and fits of panic. These things occasionally come from the students, too.
This, of course, comes to pass especially in the month of May—we have our sophomore thesis presentations, finals, and the first signs of summer wafting in lazy and welcoming as the buzzing of the bees over the new-blossomed trees. In all candor, I think we would readily admit that this is the most unfair time for the school-year to end because it awakens the schoolchild in all of us, making us desperate to get out of our enclosures and roll in the newly-green grass again.
But this, of course, cannot be so until we’ve come to the real end of things. The penultimate inevitability of the school year is that we will experience the longing for the goodness that is yet to come but must overcome our final plights to achieve that triumph. It’s rather like an adventure story, isn’t it? The farmhand who yearns for adventure, leaning on his crook, finds themselves swept off to the daring attempts in far off lands where they must finally overcome the dangerous beast that stands between them and the glorious end that they’ve been struggling after for so long. Or, in another way, it is like Heaven. We struggle and strive through the day today tedium, often forgetting that each and every day is (in it’s quiet and mundane way) part of the epic struggle towards salvation.
It is difficult for the student to, in January, to remember exams so long away, just as it is difficult for the man shoveling snow to remember the hundred-degree days of summer, or it is for the angry driver in grid-lock to remember the golden gates of paradise. Perspective in all of these areas are so necessary, and often so wanting. But, all the same time slogs forward dragging us (perhaps unwillingly) to pursue greater heights or loftier goals.
And that, of course, leads us to the ultimate inevitability of education: the incredible sense of pride that accompanies the conclusion of another academic year. I am deeply proud of my students—they, who have achieved so much this year, with their institution of three new clubs, holding their first formal dance, a new round of sophomore theses completed with aplomb, and, of course, the rising of our first senior class as they prepare to take on a new set of challenges before their inevitable graduation and foray into the world beyond.
This May: Charity & Calm
Blaise A. Hockel
One month ago we welcomed our second son, Solanus, to the world, and I was struck by the most remarkable thought when they put him in my arms: “Two minutes ago, we could have aborted you.”
I mention this, of course, because I want to discuss the leaked opinion from the Supreme Court discussing Roe v. Wade. The topic of abortion has been likened to the ‘third rail’—the electrically charged topic that one ought not touch because it is so heated and dangerous a topic. I should think that it would be the opposite with an enlightened society and that, when faced with so serious an issue, we would take a moment to calm ourselves and be ready to hear out what the other means.
The temptation in these next weeks, I am sure, is going to be one wherein we might become irate, impassioned, outraged, or overzealous. What I cannot stress enough is that what we must be is calm. We must hear and feel, observe and respond without blame. And this thought comes to me because of the dear Razumikhin.
The juniors and I are currently reading Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment. I have often contended that modern man cannot possibly understand the world in which he lives fully until he has read this book, and recalling the argument that two fictional friends offer what the now-reposed Russian wrote, I think on it again. Razumikhin, arguing with Zamiotov about how to interact with the ‘lower’ people who are distasteful to us, says, “You’re always standing on your principles as if they were stilts. You won’t move on your own feet… You’ve got to be nice to him, not simply reject him. You can’t reform a man by rejecting him, and all the more so with a kid. With a kid, you’ve got to be twice as careful.”
What occasion these circumstances hold for us—we could infuse the situation with the greatest of charity, encouraging debates like that of Bertrand Russel and Fr. Coppleston. Instead, what we’re seeing is rioting at the homes of justices and the defacing of Catholic Churches.
We, along with North Korea and China, are the extreme aborters in the world. Can that be a sign for us that we must, in some way, adjust?