The Ties that Bind.

In Great Expectations, Charles Dickens tells the story of Pip, a young boy born into hardship whose fortunes are changed by an anonymous benefactor. As the pages turn, Pip is certain that he knows the identity of his benefactor, and reshapes his own identity around his assumption. He begins to see himself mirrored in the experience as an “up-and-comer,” a gentleman on the rise, and above his humble origins.

Of course, Dickens had other plans.

By the end of the novel, Pip discovers that his patron was not refined at all, but rather an escaped convict he once encountered as a frightened child, a man whose chains Pip helped to cut away.

It is a humbling revelation that brings Pip face to face with a powerful truth: the ties that bind us are often forged long before we understand them. Family, Dickens reminds us, is not always who we imagine it to be. It is who we are connected to by care, by responsibility, and by shared humanity. Our own “great expectations” of who and where we should be in the world dim alongside the fulfillment we gain from human connection.

I’ve been reflecting on that idea: the many ways family takes shape.

Across this province, our professional contexts differ widely. Some of us lead large secondary schools with thousands of students; others serve in small, remote communities with a handful of children spanning multiple grades. And yet, the complexity of our work, and the depth of our commitment, remains the same. We show up fully. We carry responsibility for young people, families, and staff. In so many ways, we become a kind of family to one another.

I always thought of my staff that way. The new, young teachers arriving with hope, nerves, and boundless energy. The experienced educators who steady the ship. The informal mentorship that happens in hallways, over coffee, and in moments of quiet encouragement. These are ties built through trust, shared purpose, and care.

Then there are the friends who become family, the people who know our patterns, notice when we’re tired, step in without being asked, and remind us of who we are when the work feels heavy. Chosen family matters deeply in leadership.

And finally, there is our family-family, groups we are born into as kin, and groups we grow into through love, circumstance, and time. These ties bind tightly, they stretch and change, and can perhaps be felt most deeply when times are challenging.

Recently, I listened to an episode of the New York Times podcast “The Daily” that explored the lives of families with children mistakenly switched at birth following in vitro fertilization procedures. Different families. Different homes. Different histories. And yet, the story revealed how identity, belonging, and connection run deeper than biology alone. It was heart-wrenching, and has stayed with me.

The story raised questions that linger:

· What traits do we carry with us even before family shapes us?

· Who determines what families look like?

I was reminded that family is not only about origin, but about relationships. It is about the people who show up, advocate fiercely, and create safety when the ground feels unsteady. Family is built through care, presence, and commitment. Families are what we need, and they also need us.

This Family Day, I encourage you to step away from the never-ending to-do lists and demands of leadership, and to spend time with your family in whatever form it takes. Take care of yourself, and be with the people who keep you grounded, seen, and cherished.

Onwards