So said the email from the owner of the racing flats (not running shoes) shown in the photo above. Said student would also like me to add that she plays the cello, is a high honors student (not simply an honors student, she would like me to clarify, but a high honors student), took Math Research (which entails so much more work than the general research class that I teach that they really should call it Honors Research, or, more appropriately, College Level Research), and, presumably, solved the country's debt crisis before lunchtime.
I have written a paragraph about this student, and already, I am tired.
I suspect that this student does not sleep. Or, quite possibly, said student is like rechargeable batteries, where she talks (a lot) and moves around (a lot) and does (a lot) of things (well), and then, quite suddenly, says "Tired, must sleep," and simply lapses into a coma-like sleep for a couple of hours, after which her eyes snap awake, and she says something like "Awake. Day begins," and once more starts doing (a lot) of things (well).
I was not like this in middle school.
Okay, to be sure, I did stuff. I acted in shows. I played drums in the band and orchestra, and was, in fact, the section leader. I was in honors classes.
I was not, however, a high honors student.
I was one of those kids who drove teachers mad. I scored high on aptitude tests, but somehow couldn't quite make the jump from the standardized tests that measured my intelligence to academic tests that measured my grade point average. When it came to academics, I was often...average.
Anyway, about this student:
She is a middle school student, and she runs a mile in six minutes.
...and here we get to the heart of the matter.
Okay, when I was 19 and in the best shape of my life, I ran a mile on a whim. Granted, I ran it in jeans and a tee shirt, and I ran it at night, so I couldn't check the stopwatch setting on my wristwatch to push myself a bit more. Still, I cranked out a respectable 5:51.
In other words, as an adult, I was only able to beat this student's time by nine seconds.
Such things are humbling. And if you work in a middle school, that is only the start of it. For if you really get to know your students, you will find out that there are countless people who are already, in their early teens, doing things better than you ever did (or will do) them in your life.
In other words, I have had numerous students who I know could run circles around me athletically, musically, and academically.
You get used to it, and you learn humility; if you don't have this humility, I can't see how you'll make it as a teacher (or, in my case, a school librarian). You learn to accept that many, many people will do many, many things better than you. And having accepted that, you are free to do something genuinely life affirming: you can cheer these students on. And having done that, you are then free to notice something equally wonderful: this is a great way to make a living.
Too often, there are news stories about kids doing awful things (particularly now, the day after Halloween). You would often think, from reading these stories, that the next generation is basically a brainless, shambling zombie attack, bent on nothing but destruction.
The more that I embrace my central tenet of this blog--to write nothing but positive things about students--the better I feel about the future.
Today, when I was discussing my writing of this blog entry, a number of other students said that I should write about them.
"Fine," I said, "just come in tomorrow ready to talk about something you're proud of."
I know that the more I do this, the more students will approach me (I hope) about aspects of them--their accomplishments, their abilities--that they want the world to know about. I know, if this becomes a steady source of writing, that I will often write about students who already have a level of mastery of various skills that will leave my abilities far, far behind. This, I now know, is a great, great thing.
This student is already a better academic, a batter athlete, and a better musician that I will ever be. Good. There are many other students like this student.
I want to talk to them, and I want to write about them. So many of them embody what journalist Pete Hamill called "The Talent in the Room."
And Pete Hamill writes far better than I ever will. Trust me. Click here if you don't believe me, and you can read some of his stuff and see for yourself; this guy rocks.
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