This past summer, while away, I spent some time with a childhood friend. We reminisced about a time when we were in high school. She lived on a llama farm/ranch and drove a yellow Ford Fiesta. Remember those? One Saturday afternoon, she called me sounding frantic, and asked if I could help her take the baby llama to the vet. Her parents were out of town, and she was given one job to do, make sure the baby llama would be ok…well it wasn’t. The llama had developed a terrible cough. Yup, what do friends do when you get called to help with a llama? Of course, I helped. January weather in Idaho means it was cold, snow, and ice on the ground. I pulled up and saw her with the 4 foot llama leading it to the yellow, very small, compact car. I didn’t question as I didn’t have an alternative. My job was to drive while she sat in the back seat with the patient. Imagine the scene, pushing/pulling the baby into the Fiesta, making sure that all hooves were inside the car, and Nancy, my friend buckled into place. I drove. That was a very long 12 miles. Hooves flailing, coughing, (llamas are known to spit at anything taller than they are…imagine the possibilities). Arriving at the Emergency Vet parking lot, the car slid into a spot…black ice covered the pavement. Not so gracefully, we made it into the ER with the llama and support help from the facility. 

Since that time with my Idaho friend, I have asked myself when have I ever felt so unprepared for what I had been called to do as I have felt throughout the pandemic. This baby llama event has poignantly remained in my mind. The challenge of that moment required me to drive the car. Not unlike the moment(s), the directives/recommendations that feel slippery, and the under-the-surface responses that can seem frantic and totally foreign…we have never navigated anything like it before. We are all driving our little Ford Fiestas, carrying precious cargo. And like the llama, our school communities will survive, better and stronger because of the care of supportive friends, our principal community – all of us sharing in this experience. Let’s continue to traverse the day-to-day unknowns, with our hands open to supporting one another, navigating the black ice together. 

We, in the OCS, continue to keep you and your communities in our prayers.

KRISTIN DIXON |  Superintendent