Yearbooks and Circuses

Not to be outdone (or under done), it has come to my attention that I've dropped the blog ball. Again. I guess I could attribute that to my impending nuptials, but that would be cheating. I'm not a cheater, nor do I want to leave you hanging.

Organizing events can only be outclassed in frustration and bitter resentment to having to mow your lawn. You know that if you don't do it, the neighbors will get restless and start bickering at you to get your act together.

I've now planned, or been a part of planning 930 events. Ok, so maybe not that many, but it seems that way. One thing I've noticed and learned about this phenomena is that no one wants to take responsibility and actually help in a useful way. Most people are content to sit back and wait for you to fail in their eyes so they can drag your face through it for the remainder of the year. The alternative is that you exceed their wildest expectations and perform under pressure to the resounding wholesale applause that sounds as good as the Adagio from a Beethoven quartet.

Our last event, having something to do with the Junior class, went off swimmingly. We ate lots of food, played games, smashed a car, and pied yours truly in the face. All to the tune of some monies to help support the class. That is what being on a boarding academy campus is all about. You can't sit by and let them see you as they see most adults, blind, uncaring and aloof. You must engage them. You must love them. But you can't tell them. You have to show them. Which leads me to my next point...

We handed out yearbooks last night, an event that has always been a bittersweet event for me. In high school, I always wanted the pretty girls to write nice things about me, especially if they put the word "Love" and then penned their ever-so-sweet name directly following. Sadly, this was more a rarity than the norm of "Have a great summer!" with some generic greeting tacked on at the end. I wanted to know that I had made a difference in their lives. I guess my constant singing of obscure Michael Jackson remakes wasn't what they wanted to hear. I still desire that, only now, I want to know that I have positively influenced my students' lives. I leave the book sitting on a broken chair outside my office, hoping that my students will find it and write about how amazing I am and how much I've changed their lives. While my dream was fulfilled, sitting here writing this, I wonder if I shouldn't be desiring to make their yearbooks a place where I can build them up. So many have been run down as a result of changes this year at school, I guess it would mean a lot coming from the "authority" to say nice things about them. I guess my mission before the end of the year is to make all of my yearbook posts unique and loving, so that my students, no matter who they are and how badly I may despise their souls on some days, will feel God's love through my writing.