Millennium

I sit here, at my teacher desk, scanning my bedecked classroom. Today, one of my Drama students took notice of my classroom during a discussion about the impact of color vs. monochromatic schemes.

"Ms. M," he said, with a slight cool drawl and a cock of his head, "your room has flair. I like all the color. Color shows that people are alive, not just breathing." I nodded my head as other students agreed and continued to challenge each other's opinions about how to create visual impact in dramatic scenes.

Later, I thought about what was said. It was my intent from day one to exude the eclectic, to be comfortable in my environment and to help my students become less conventional so that they could expand and grow into unbigoted, enlightened entities.

I want my students to learn. I want them to feel safe. I want to be mama bear and protect them. It's only intermittently I want to give up... or shake sense into them.

I came here to make a difference--- to tell them that there are people in this world who want to open their eyes and souls so that they can see the fresh new day and be prepared for hard cases and conundrums. They have so much fire, my students. Their eyes burn, sometimes with hatred for me - though not really for me - but for the institution of life. They need the wisdom to harness their fervor and possess it so they don't explode. They need to find their inner mercy to manage the calamaties to come.

They are all brilliant, and I tell them so. They all have choices, as I so remind them. I tell them that their youth is slippery, like a thumb against satin. I want them to cherish any childhood they have left. They never will - they are all obstinate, just like I was at their age, and determined to not need anyone or anything.

But they need. And they express that need at times. And sometimes, I was there to help fill that need and give them the push toward a better tomorrow. Many times I wished I could impart more knowledge and opinion, challenge them to defend their beliefs - their teenage cores. Many times I listened and said the minimum, knowing they had to discover their own truths and pick their own paths.

I have two weeks left of teaching high school.

I wonder if they'll miss me as much as I'll miss them.