Something to be proud of

For a high school teacher, I'm not such a fan of high school. I didn't hate it; honestly, I'm hard pressed to come up with many bad high school memories, though I can't completely vouch for the veracity of the internal highlight reel that I've been editing for twenty years. Regardless, four years was plenty; coming back to high school every day is a minimum condition of my employment, not a perk--and I just work in a high school, not my high school; teaching in the high school from which one graduated is not a phenomenon I can comprehend, let alone explain.

At any rate, it suits me to operate on the fringes, to be more in the high school than of the high school. Between living a considerable distance from the campus and having a group of students far more likely to be at work than at a practice or in club meeting after the school day ends, my list of faculty extracurriculars would make for a sketchy yearbook listing. Last night, however, I broke my pattern in a big way, showing up at school at night when I hadn't even been there during the day to make sure I attended a special event, and I'm so glad I did.

Our school has an awards night that basically allows any teacher to honor any student for any kind achievement. That always seemed a little bogus to me, an opportunity for "participant" to be elevated to "outstanding" as if in some politically correct science fair, but in reality many of the Seniors who receive Warrior Pride awards are the same kids who receive every other honor the school hands out. My nominee wasn't in that supposedly select group, but he wasn't out of place, either. Far from it.

His grades won't put him at the top of his class, but they're more than respectable, especially considering that four years ago he spoke no English at all. His work ethic and determination put me to shame, but what I admire most is his attitude. He knows the world is a difficult place, that others have advantages he can't dream of and he has barriers they can't even conceive, but he faces that reality with a shrug and a smile. "Oh, well," he says. "This is my life. What else am I going to do?"

I was as pleased as anything to be able to recognize him in public, to say to the crowd, and to him, in so many words, "Look at what he's done! Look at what he'll do!" I was only a fraction as pleased and proud as my student was, though, and that's the best part. Not only did he get a medal and a nice night out, but, from his expressions of appreciation and the look in his eyes, he also got a boost that will carry him through the end of the semester and out into the world. And, right there, I got my reward--and another high school memory of my own.