Auld Lang Syne

Today was the last day of class at the co-op.

I've had the utter pleasure of working with a group of wide-eyed, funny, primarily sheltered and personally conservative seventh and eighth graders. They are budding writers. They are new at using the written English language. They are beginning to understand its construction and its power.

I was only able to work with them for a few months. I inherited this class through a variety of circumstances that I don't need to go into here - suffice it to say that a tragedy struck and I stepped in for their former teacher.

I really saw this as a way to help out someone who was going through a dreadfully difficult time.

I saw the students as kids who were not terribly interested in the class or in writing. And I thought maybe they weren't very capable.

I was so wrong.

I have some students who are really extraordinary writers - kids who have talent dripping off their fingers, as one of my students wrote. I have some other kids for whom writing is a tremendous challenge.

But they all improved. They all grew as writers, and I hope, a bit as people, too.

I'm terribly proud of them and I'll miss them.

But I was wrong about myself, too. This was not simply a marriage of convenience. A chance to do good for someone else.

I improved and grew as a person, too. I learned many things from this group. I learned that values very different from my own can still produce wonderful tweens in all their glory - confused, funny, one-foot-in-childhood, one-foot-in-adulthood tweens. I learned about values I didn't hold, but now understand better. I learned about segments of the community where I hadn't visited previously. I learned that kids are kids are kids, and even the quietest and most carefully protected acquire a bit of mischief and rebellion at this age. And it's all good.

I can't wait for next year.