Overwhelming

The following story is stuff of CRL lore.

Once upon a time, an 8th grade ELA teacher and the school reading specialist had a little idea: let's invite kids to read The Hunger Games with us, and maybe the Principal will allow us to take the kids to see the movie. One thing led to another, 220+ middle schoolers devoured the book, and we quickly found ourselves giddily in over our heads.  At one point, we were having a conversation with our assistant principal.  We were ourselves - excited and excitable and probably not using our best indoor voices.  At the end of the conversation, our Assistant Principal sighed heavily and said, "You two are overwhelming."  

She probably didn't mean it as a compliment, but we took it as such and continue to wear the word OVERWHELMING as a badge of pride.   

This post was drafted after several emotional texts and phone calls. We've recently experienced a flurry of moments, courtesy of our wonderful, all-grown-up students, who have overwhelmed us with their love and sincerity. Teaching is a special profession for a lot of reasons - our iron-clad immune systems, wireless lie-detecting abilities, the skill to end class at exactly 8:37 - but the greatest reward is when we become part of someone's story. 

Earlier this week, Mary got a message from a former student: 

Text from Bekah

She shared it with Erin, and we both fought tears. 

After ten years and thousands of students, All In! has run its course.  There is no reveal assembly or reaping or field trip or cornucopia games for the first time in a decade.  

After you've done something that long, it becomes part of your routine.  It's kinda like muscle memory. "It's March already?  We've gotta plan some crazy activities!  Time to put the kids in sacks!" This year, Erin spent March cleaning out storage closets and donating All In! supplies to various other school clubs.  As ridiculous as it sounds, we mourned the loss of those Hobbit swords and Unbroken shark cutouts.  How can we possibly part with our sack race sacks?  (Erin saved a Divergent rubber ducky for Mary.)    

We tend to go big: our default setting involves large assemblies, mylar balloons and confetti canons. When we decided that All In! had run its course, we let the appropriate folks know, but didn't make a big deal out of it. We didn't make some grand announcement; we had some personal conversations, and we let it trickle down. This put us in the position to be face to face with one of our alum as they hear it from our own lips.

With Grace on Reveal Day
 

Several months ago, high school seniors visited the middle school to talk to our 8th graders about what high school holds. Erin was teaching a class when two faces appeared at her door. "Hi Miss O'Leary! We had to come and see you!" Throwing all proper behavior aside, Erin stopped her lesson and went to wrap those two seniors in hugs. After the initial "How are you?s" the question came, "So what's the book for All In! this year?!?" 

Keeping a smile on her face, Erin told them about the decision to end after ten wonderful years. "It's not a sad kind of loss. It's a good thing! It was wonderful for a long time. Now we'll be ready for something else!" 

For a moment, it was quiet. "Oh," Grace replied. Her voice was soft; she looked at the floor, then back at Erin. "Well, thank you for doing it. All In! really meant a lot to me."

Now it was our turn to be overwhelmed. They weren't ready for the news, and we weren't ready for the response. 

Just this past week, another former student re-entered our lives. Zach is performing senior service hours and was warmly welcomed back to middle school by his former teachers and rapidly has achieved near celebrity-status in the eyes of our students (who think he's just about the coolest kid they've ever met.)

Ten years

When he stepped into Erin's room, he took a big breath. "Wow. So many memories in here! Oh! Unbroken!" He picked it up and started flipping pages. "You know, this book was All In! 2015. That was the year before I came here, but our first book was the one about the brother and the sister. It was World War II, and they were from one of the Baltic countries. I forget the title, but it was written by Ruta Sepetys." 

Ruta Sepetys - ask her and she'll tell you that she has spent a good deal of her life correcting folks on how to pronounce her name - but he knew it. Rolled right off his tongue.

Zach continued to walk the shelves. "You know the best book you recommended to me?" Erin strained her brain; no, she had no idea. Thankfully, he saved her from herself. "It was The Berlin Boxing Club. Seriously, that was the best book I've ever read. I still think about it sometimes. Thank you for giving that to me. That was really an incredible story."

We recommend books to kids all day long; to be honest, Erin's never even read that one. She has no memory of recommending that book to that child. It was likely just an ordinary day, just Zach coming in for another book (he was a book-a-week kind of kid), and Erin suggested a title. 

Reading Between Shades of Gray

These wonderful young adults have given us a gift.  How often do teachers get to see the lasting impact they have students?  We feel so blessed that these encounters have reflected back to us the importance of our involvement.  To think that these folks have such positive memories about their experiences...in Middle School...reading a book...by choice.  Well, I think it's safe to say.  

We're overwhelmed.  

Before he left, Zach noticed the poster-sized photograph Erin has stuck to her wall. "Oh man! That's Ms. Cotillo!" We laughed. Yep. There we are: us in our CRL shirts, kinda sweaty, standing in a gym full of kids during a Salt to the Sea activity.

"That's so cool - you guys are still friends!"