A Thread That Comes Full Circle: Two Generations, One KIS Story

For Shekinah Truman (Class of 2000), KIS began with a decision her father made.

Living in Pune, surrounded by families connected to a seminary campus, she watched as many of their children left for a school in the hills. When it was her turn, she arrived at KIS in Grade 3, young, unsure, and stepping into a world that would quietly shape the rest of her life.

Her earliest memory is simple, almost serendipitous: meeting her roommate on the very first day, both of them, strangers from different parts of India, wearing the same outfit. That coincidence turned into a friendship so deep that, over time, they were known as sisters.

Years later, that sense of connection would become the foundation of how she understands KIS.

“It was the people,” she reflects. “Through some of the most difficult times in my life, the one constant was KIS and the people who stood by me.”

That constancy is what brought her back. In 2006, not as a student, but as an educator.

Her return wasn’t just professional; it was personal. A way of giving back to a place that had held her, shaped her, and carried her through. Today, as High School Coordinator, she approaches her work with the same care she once received.

“I show up every day knowing I am here to serve my children,” she says, a reflection of the deep, almost familial bonds she experienced as a student.

For her daughter Shifra (Class of 2026), KIS has never been a place she arrived at; it is a place she grew up within.

Her earliest memories are rooted in classrooms and stories, like making “stone soup” in kindergarten, guided by a teacher who made learning feel alive.

But more than that, she grew up surrounded by her mother’s KIS community, a network of friendships that endured long after graduation. These weren’t just stories from the past; they were living relationships, woven into her own life.

“I call some of her friends my aunts (Masi),” she shares. In many ways, she inherited a sense of belonging before she even understood it. And yet, her journey has always been her own.

While her mother’s experiences shaped the environment she entered, she found her own paths through music, service, friendships, and the quiet process of becoming herself. There are echoes of influence, of course: shared values, familiar spaces, even overlapping experiences like hikes and school traditions. But within that, she carved out something distinctly hers.

“It’s a mix of both,” she says. “Her journey influences mine, but I’m also creating my own.”

Across both their stories, certain threads remain constant.

Relationships that outlast time.

A deep sense of belonging.

And a commitment to something larger than oneself.

At KIS, learning has evolved, pedagogies have changed, classrooms have adapted, but the core has stayed the same.

“The essence hasn’t changed,” Shekinah reflects. “The way teachers care, the way they show up, that’s still there.”For both mother and daughter, what endures is not just what they learned, but how they learned to be with others, in the world, and with themselves.

Compassion.

Service.

Connection.

These are not abstract ideals, but lived experiences, seen in friendships that feel like family, in service projects that extend learning beyond campus, and in the quiet, everyday ways students show up for each other.

Now, as her daughter prepares to graduate with the Class of 2026, the story comes full circle.

For years, Shekinah has stood on stage, reading out the names of graduating students, a moment of pride shaped by watching them grow. This year, she will read her daughter’s name. A role she has performed countless times becomes something entirely new.“I don’t know how I’m going to get through it without crying,” she admits.

For her daughter, stepping into alumna status is less about leaving and more about carrying something forward.

“KIS is something that will always be a part of me,” she says, speaking to a connection that doesn’t end at graduation, but expands beyond it.

Perhaps that is what defines KIS across generations. Not just the years spent on campus, but the invisible thread that continues long after.

A thread of belonging you learn to create wherever you go.

A thread of relationships that endure.

A thread of values—compassion, service, and commitment, that shape how you move through the world.

For Shekinah, that thread brought her back. For her daughter, it is something she will carry forward. And somewhere between the two, KIS becomes more than a school. It becomes a shared story, one that continues, generation after generation.