For Bell Work the other day, I asked my students to write about their best day. I asked them to describe the sights, sounds, textures, smells and feelings associated with this experience.
My student Jorge, who usually thinks about his assignments and sucks on his pencil for quite some time before digging in, began writing immediately.
As I wound my way around my room, I looked over shoulders and read scrawled lines about birthdays, 8th grade graduation ceremonies, and days when friends came through at tough times. I wanted to see what Jorge was writing since he looked so intent on his purpose.
He didn't even look up when I took a seat next to him. The first few lines of his short paragraph read:
My best day is today. I got up in a good mood this morning. I don't know what is going to happen today, so that is why today is my best day.
I smiled and Jorge looked up. I asked him to describe his feelings about today to me.
"It feels like hope."
If I had done my own assignment, I would have written about the day I graduated from college. I smelled misty rain and tasted palpable joy. I felt fading youth and sensed responsibility like a monsoon on the horizon. I finally knew myself.
In that moment, I exuded hope. Just as Jorge did today. And I believe I like his answer so much more than my own.
