She couldn’t stand, so they stood for her. They stood by her. She was last to go yesterday, last to share her Sappy Student Rhyme. She modeled it after Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood,” titling it, “Sy’s Class.” This did not surprise us. She is a huge T Swift fan, sharing yesterday during Smiles and Frowns that the concert she is lucky enough to attend is only 21 days away. More, she sings Taylor’s songs to us all the time. And so, we were surprised when Savannah got up there and froze. She could hardly talk. She started to shake. She tried. She sat down and cried. Caught in a crisis moment, the kids looked to her, to me, and then to each other, and six of her peers came to the rescue, stood for her, stood by her and helped her deliver her poem.

It was a proud moment for our us, and it reflected exactly what we have worked so hard to establish this year: community. Ours is a place where the divide is less wide between teacher and student, and among all. A place where we are just humans learning and growing together, sharing in our struggles and successes. It is a beautiful place, a place full of many beautiful moments as kid after kid shared their Sappy Student Rhymes, honoring the people they’ve stood day after day. I was gushing with pride. I am so honored to learn from and with these awesome kids. They fill me with wonder and hope. Kids really are the best humans.

Savannah did not meet the requirements. She did not stand. She found no poise. And she had barely a voice. But she did not fail. We did not fail. And as the SBA scores have begun to roll in, and I have the undesirable duty to share with a small number of kids that they did not pass–their learning and worth reduced to a single data point, I think about what we learned as a community yesterday. I think about the things that we cannot capture in a standardized test or a grade. I think about the things that the kids will carry with them into their futures, and I am proud of the experience I have built with them this year. I am sorry that some have to have that diminished by an outside force, by a blind lens that does not, that cannot look into, that cannot see them. And for them, my hope is that our experience together shields them from such things as they move forward and carry with them the things that are not simply measured. It is that which I hope holds weight, that which I hope registers on their scales. The only scales that matter.

Proud of my kids.

Today’s Trail

Different day, today. I am on an interview committee, so I will not be with my kiddos. Heartbroken that we are losing Maddie Alderete, team member and P-180 contributor. But life calls and pulls us in different directions sometimes. Will write more about it later, but not sure we can replace her. Damn, Life. What ya go and do that for?

Do. Reflect. Do Better.