Family By Choice

Every morning, if I am lucky enough to have the luxury of a few moments of quiet instead of frantically making copies or hunting down the last cup of coffee in the pot, I like to stop and observe our students at playtime. This is, of course, where children are in their element. They interact with the other students around them, barely noticing the teacher, unless a whistle blows in their general direction. What I have observed, then, is the miracle of a family in the making. It has given me such joy to watch our older students with our younger ones. Our young students will often run to the arms of the older ones, ready for a hug, an untied shoe, or a push on the swing. Perhaps it has been a while since you have observed the teenager in his natural habitat. I have encountered many years of middle schoolers in my teaching career, and I can assure you that this is not always typical teenage behavior. Our change in campus this year has brought some challenges, not the least of which is limited places to play. The students could sulk about this, but instead they make it work, and not once have I heard complaining. I have witnessed kickball games where the 8th graders were in the outfield, and just so the 2nd grade girls could score some runs, the older students just so happened to fumble the ball. Badly. The girls squealed and giggled as they made their way around the bases, delighting in the fact that they had finally scored against the formidable 8th grade boys. I have seen our older students spend their time after school tutoring or babysitting so that staff members or parent helpers could get something done on campus in relative peace. This is genuine love and affection for our younger students. This is family. Our older students could be forced to do these things, but they cannot be forced to do it with a smile on their face. Hugs for a scraped knee cannot be faked; "losing" a kickball game is not something that can be planned. This is not just in praise of our older students, by the way. Some might argue that I am biased when it comes to my view of our older students, and they would be right. I am unashamedly proud. I think, however, this is just as much of a statement about our younger students and their incredibly delightful personalities. They make our day a joy, and anyone who has sat through one of our Wednesday morning chapels can attest to that fact. Our younger students certainly make it easy to love them. I also do not mean to say that every day is a series of Pollyanna-ish events. Families fight, and that is sometimes the nature of our family, too. What I am proud of is that our students seem to be inherently aware that we are indeed a family; it is our job to watch out for each other, to care for those who need help, and to provide joy to each other when we can. It is something that I think our school does very well, and I am proud to call it my family. Now if we could just figure out who keeps taking the last of the coffee from the coffee pot...