“Love is when two people know everything about each other and are still friends.”

I love my school.  The building is beautiful, the grounds are resplendent, our school colors are lovely, our alma mater makes my heart swell, and it is a glorious place in and of itself, but in truth, I guess I don't really love my school.  I LOVE the people inside of it.  This week we had a scare--an Alert Status--meaning there was reason my administration believed we needed to be extra cautious, stay in our classrooms, lock our doors and let the amazing people of the Springdale Police department and our administration ensure our safety.  We never went into a lock-down mode, but it was, if only for only a few minutes, enough to make my heart rate increase (especially when those amazingly brave officers ran down my hallway with firearms.  I still swear to my husband these policemen were Herculean; he swears they were normal sized.  I guess when you go running down a hallway with a gun, unsure of what you will find in order to protect a whole bunch of people, your size increases to those lucky people you are protecting).  

My first hour and I on Friday!

The incident ended with a student being taken to the police station for questioning.  This makes me sorrowful.  Many students wished to discuss it the next day.  I told them, in all honesty, I really didn't know anything about what had happened.  But, if a student (or any person) ever feels the need to act in a manner that seems so desperate, we should not be anything but saddened and prayerful for that person.  At the beginning of the year, I tell my 150 people, I don't love them yet--love takes time--but I more than likely will by Christmas if they allow themselves to be a part of my learning community.  Guess what, I love them!  I have gotten to know something about even the meekest member of my classroom.  They have gotten to know more about me than they probably should.  I tell them when they walk through the doors of C-203, they are my people (they will forever be my people) and I will know them in whatever way they want me to.  I don't make judgments about them; I judge them based on the merits they provide within the walls of our room.  As I start to know them, I begin to trust them, and they trust me--it is this connection that I hold on to with my whole heart.  It is why, if a person feels the need to act in a way that to me seems desperate or unconnected, I am saddened.  I know the connections were offered because I work in a place that offers them.  So, what happened?  Why would someone feel the need to act in a way that is so filled with desperation?  To me, the trust that the people around this person believe in was broken.  It might have been scarier than the event itself-questioning the validity of the connections I feel with my students.

Two of my Seniors on Decades day!

In a not unrelated incident, last week was Spirit Week at my school, followed by senior recognition night at the basketball game, followed by Winter Homecoming.  Wow!  I love Spirit Week!  I dress up in a crazy outfit every single day.  I have taught my class in a prom dress, full zombie attire, as a character from Duck Dynasty, and this week in my pajamas!  Students always come to my room to see what I will be wearing.  At first, they think I have lost my mind (so does my husband).  I explain to them the reason I do this is not because I love dressing up (I will admit that for some of the spirit days, I really love it), but because the spirit days are selected by the student body.  Every single day I ask the students to do something that might make them uncomfortable-to reach outside their comfort zone in order to connect with the learning that I know is happening in our classroom.  During Spirit Week, the student body asks itself and our school to something outside its comfort zone to show dedication and love for our school.  They do what I ask; I'll do what they ask for two weeks out of the year.  It often makes me uncomfortable (I had to go to the grocery store in my pajamas and to an event with my husband with my face painted with neon paint this week). I do it to show them that I value their voices and I do truly love my school.  It is about connection and trust.  During the senior recognition, I swelled with pride as many of my students are basketball players, cheerleaders or dance team members.  I cheered like a crazy person for my people.  The people around me asked which one was my child--all of them!  So, what if I am the only one feeling the connection?  Does it invalidate the love I feel?  After Friday night, celebrating with my students, I realize it doesn't matter--I am better for cherishing the connection I believe in.  My life has been made richer because I choose to believe in the connection.  I truly hope my students feel it as well, but if it ends up being false on the other end, I cherish the feeling of connection I refuse to give up.

Winter Homecoming!

High school for many of my seniors is drawing to a close.  They probably won't remember all the stories we read or the math lessons or the history.  But, during the alert status, I received many text messages and Facebook messages from former students.  Most of them simply said they missed me and wanted to make sure I was okay.  We still have the connection; we still value each other.  Being a teacher has created for me so many connections and so much love in my life that I can never measure.  So, what I cherish is connection--the knowledge that I am part of something greater than myself.  I cherish the love that results from opening up and sharing with people in order to establish that connection.  Maybe if we all felt more connections we would have less need for alert status and more reason to dress-up like a crazy person.  If you see me shopping in Wal-Mart dressed like a rock star, don't judge me--just know that I do love the fact that I am rocking the purple hair--and that somewhere, some student will realize that I love them and am willing to make an utter fool of myself to prove it!