October 11, 2026
What We Call a Place
WHAT
I’ve discovered that my favorite meeting room at Mack doesn’t have walls.
Over these first few months, I’ve walked our campus with faculty, parents, board members, and visitors. Whenever possible, I invite people to step outside with me. Our 23 acres have become one of my favorite places to have a conversation.
As we walk, I find myself sharing stories. About my connection to Colorado. About our permaculture program and the extraordinary possibilities of learning from the land. About the ways this beautiful place creates opportunities for Mack Kids to explore, discover, wonder, and grow.
And increasingly, I’ve been thinking about another question.
How well do we know the stories of the places we call home?
Tomorrow is Indigenous Peoples Day, and that question feels especially important.
In west Boulder, beneath the red rock formations, there is a place called The Peoples’ Crossing.
For years, it was called Settler’s Park.
In 2021, the City of Boulder renamed it with a name developed by representatives of American Indian Tribal Nations. The name honors the area as a crossroads for Indigenous Peoples who have traveled through and lived in this region since time immemorial.
Same place.
Different name.
A fuller story.
I find that remarkable.
Because changing a name doesn’t change history. But it can change which parts of history we notice, whose stories we seek to understand, and what we recognize about a place we thought we knew.
SO WHAT
For many years, I’ve carried a question about education:
If school is supposed to prepare students for real life, then why doesn’t school look more like real life?
I’ve often asked that question in connection with authentic learning, interdisciplinary inquiry, and opportunities for young people to do work that matters beyond the classroom.
But perhaps there’s another dimension worth considering.
What does it mean to be educated in a place if we don’t understand the stories of that place?
The Boulder Valley is part of the ancestral homelands of the Arapaho, Cheyenne, Ute, and other Indigenous Nations. These lands hold histories of deep relationships with nature, cultural knowledge, community, resilience, broken treaties, and forced displacement.
And those stories are not only historical.
Indigenous Peoples, their cultures, knowledge, languages, leadership, and contributions are very much part of our present.
To understand this place more fully, we need to learn from those living stories and voices, not simply study what happened long ago.
This matters to me as an educator.
One of the most powerful things learning can do is expand our understanding beyond the stories we already know.
We discover that our perspective is incomplete.
We encounter histories that complicate familiar narratives.
We learn that the same landscape may hold profoundly different meanings for different people.
And perhaps most importantly, we develop the humility to recognize that understanding requires listening.
This past Tuesday, at Mack Forward, we gathered to reflect on where our school stands and imagine where we might go.
Our theme this year is Rooted & Rising.
I’ve been thinking about those words differently this week.
How can we grow toward the future while becoming more deeply informed about the place where our roots are growing?
How might understanding the stories of this land deepen our sense of responsibility for it?
And what might our children learn when we approach a place not simply as somewhere we live or learn, but as somewhere with histories, relationships, and responsibilities that extend far beyond us?
NOW WHAT
Indigenous Peoples Day invites us to honor Indigenous Peoples, acknowledge histories that have too often been overlooked or incompletely told, celebrate living cultures, and keep learning from Indigenous voices and communities.
I hope we approach that invitation with curiosity, respect, and humility.
At Mack, our mission calls us to develop Keen Minds, Compassionate Hearts, and Global Action.
Think deeply. Care deeply. Act meaningfully.
Those words become especially powerful when learning connects us more thoughtfully to the people and places around us.
And there is something fitting about this particular long weekend.
Our families have Monday and Tuesday away from school. I hope those days bring rest, connection, and some wonderful unscheduled time.
On Tuesday, our Mackulty will gather for a day of professional learning with Emily Kircher-Morris, deepening our understanding of the remarkable young people we serve and how we can better support their learning and growth.
I love that parallel.
We are a community of learners. Adults and children alike. And there is always more for us to understand.
As for those walks around Mack, I imagine I’ll continue inviting people to join me.
I’ll keep sharing what I love about this place.
But I also want to keep learning more about it.
Because loving a place and understanding a place are not quite the same thing.
Perhaps our responsibility is to keep bringing those two things closer together.
To notice more.
To listen more deeply.
To understand that our own story is never the whole story.
And to remember that learning, at its best, changes not only what we know about the world, but how we choose to live within it.
Rooted & Rising,
Bo
What is The Alpine View?
The Alpine View is a weekly reflection from the Head of School at Mackintosh Academy Boulder. It is a place to pause, notice, wonder, and make meaning together about learning, childhood, community, and the work of becoming. The view may change from week to week, but the hope is the same: to look closely at what matters and to invite conversation about the people we are and the people we are becoming.
