Please ignore the typos. This came fast and furious in the middle of the night.
When I went to my nephew's graduation ceremony last night, I had the privilege of seeing two former students graduate. One I knew would be there. She had told me at the end of 5th grade she was moving and attending the same middle school as my nephew, and wrote in my yearbook she was going to look for him when she got there. I saw her collect her diploma and pass by, tall, poised, beautiful, big smile and perfect hair, like so many of the other girls graduation ceremonies seem to be created for.
During the ceremony I was scanning the program to find how many names I recognized as my nephew's friends from over the years, and I recognized the name of another student. I wasn't sure at first: It looked familiar, but I had to cross check the name with the memories of who I thought she was before I could say it was her.
Like the first girl, this one was a memorable student but for other reasons. First off, she looked different from a lot of the other kids in her class, and while that is hardly extraordinary in my school now it certainly was back then, and she felt noticeably insecure about it. She was also a head taller than most of the others, and having this thick tuft of curly hair up on top that was always just on the verge of getting out of control didn't help that. She often walked around with a slight hunch trying to make herself smaller. Her family was new at our school that year, and they came to us with what I will graciously describe as some challenges in their lives. Things weren't easy for her even beyond that since she had some academic and emotional difficulties, and if that wasn't enough, she was hit by a car while crossing the street one spring evening only blocks away from our school.
Even though she functioned well enough inside a small group of girls she spent time with, she only ever seemed to have one real friend. This other sweetheart of a girl noticed they lived nearby each other soon after the school year began and asked her to play after school one day, seeing that she was new to the school, didn't have any friends yet and probably needed one. I don't t think there's anything more heroic one kid can do for another than that. It was this one real friend of hers who kept us updated on her progress while she was away from school and healing from her accident.
Her emotional troubles led to occasional outbursts, which were off-putting and intimidating for the other students. I clearly remember her fall conference that year. Her mother talked about how happy she was with the transition to a new school, but had been concerned and upset one week in October when she had to struggle to get her daughter on the bus and even come to school. It had been so out of character she figured something had to be wrong, and when they talked to another teacher she worked with to find out what was happening, she learned her daughter didn't want to come to school because I wasn't there. This was the week of school I missed right after my sister died.
All of the kids knew that was a big event in my life, and they each dealt with it in different ways. Some broke down crying at the news and had to talk to the social worker. Many of them made sympathy cards. Some came with their parents to the visitation. This girl bought me a gift. Years before my sisters had given me this huge stuffed three-foot shark as a gag Christmas gift, and I kept it on display in my classroom because I couldn't think of anything else to do with it. The kids loved it and it became a centerpiece every year. While out looking through garage sales with her family, this girl spotted a much smaller but identical version of that same stuffed shark, and absolutely demanded that her mother buy it so she could give it to me. I still have it to this day.
I wasn't completely sure it was going to be this same girl graduating until I saw her face appear on the big screen in Mariucci Arena and heard her name read. But there she was. She was so much more mature and slightly ill at ease amidst the ceremony, but it was absolutely recognizably her. I tracked her across the stage, watched her proudly cross the floor in front of me, whispered a congratulations she couldn't possibly have heard, and just smiled. When my nephew's best friend got his diploma, I had a huge grin. When my nephew got his, I choked up. When the girl I knew I would see got hers, I just basked in the confidence she exuded. When this last girl picked up hers, my eyes immediately filled with tears.
So of course as my family was leaving, I saw this girl standing with her family at the bottom of the same escalator I was riding down, and knew I had to say something. I reached the bottom, walked over and called her name. She looked at me, stunned for a moment, not able to place my face as someone she would have expected to be seeing in that context. "Do you remember me?" I asked. "From fifth grade?" After a moment her face broke into this shy but guileless smile. I looked over and said a quick hello to her mother, then turned back and explained why I was there, offered my congratulations and said how happy I was to see her.
I woke up this morning at 3:30 A.M., after having some bizarre dream about an invasion of beluga whales or something equally disturbing that luckily I can't fully remember anymore. As soon as I realized I was awake, I remembered that I had just seen my nephew graduate from high school last night, and that today was going to be the first day of his adult life. Then I remembered seeing this girl, and knew I'd have to sit down and write about it if I was going to have any chance of falling back to sleep.
And thankfully I still have four more days this week I get to teach.
