College Edition: When You're Here, You're Family

     I remember feeling like a guest in my own home when I would come home from college. There suddenly were rules. My mom had cleaned and rearragned my things in my room. My brother and sister were different; they seemed closer. My mom would cook my favorite meals for no fancy occasion at all.  It's strange feeling like a guest in your own home.

     If I can be honest, I'm beginning to hate seeing my former students with visitor's nametags. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE that you are all coming back; it's the yellow visitor's tag that I hate. It puts a barrier between things. It's like how I felt in college all over again; you are a guest in your own home. You were once a part of room 211, but now, suddenly, you have to wear a yellow rectanglular sticker to return to my room. You once came in full of energy or complaints about all of the work you had or tired because you stayed up all night finishing some IA or annotations that were due, but now you're different. Things are different. You're coming into a room where the seats already are filled. It's a bit unnerving for me if I can be totally honest. I've had numerous visits over the past few weeks, as more and more colleges are having Fall Break. One student even got stuck in my classroom for a good 30 minutes due to a non-emergency safety drill. And I have been grateful for every visit--every single one.

There is a huge part of me who would give away every material possession I own just to have one more seminar with all of you. Truly. I love the students who are now a part of my room. If you currently are a student in my classroom reading this, please know it's an honor every single day I get to teach you. Yet, as a teacher, the hardest thing I have to do is say goodbye every year to a group of students. So, when those students return, donning the yellow rectanglular badges to deem they are a visitor at Atlee, I have mixed emotions. I love having them back, but at the same time, I hate having to send them off once again.

      As more and more of you have graced me with your presence, I want to reflect on what I've learned from talking to you:

1. You've changed. It's like you're wiser and smarter and like there's some hidden secret about high school that you now possess.  I love it. It's almost as if you've crossed the line to understanding exactly why your teachers taught you certain things or made you write a certain way now. You get what high school is all about. You understand what should be stressful and what doesn't really matter after all (even though it seemed way too important when you were in high school).

2. I've also seen you seize opportunities that never could be afforded to you in high school. One of you is in a drone making club. If that is not more perfect for who you are, I don't know what is! Many of you are playing intramural sports including things like sailing. You've already earned yourself internships. The opportunities you have in college far exceed what you could do in high school. So, as much as I continuously long for one last seminar, I know that it is important for you to have these new opportunities.

3. You're more mature these days. I watched as the students in one of my classes were joking around, and one of you just rolled your eyes at me. I knew exactly what you meant by your eye roll; ironically, just a few short months ago, you were in those seats joking around with me. I single handedly gave you the eye roll--the same one that I think you now understand.

4. You have time management. The years of procrastination, the staying up nights before to finish your extended essays....I think you somehow understand how to prioritize. Maybe it's because college affords you such a different schedule. You no longer have to be a "morning" person by default. You have time in the day to study, to call home, to text your former English/TOK teacher, to play ultimate frisbee on the lawn. Regardless, I loved listening to how you now have prioritized your time.

5. There's nothing you can't handle. You've proven that to me by the way you describe your classes. You've proven it to me by what you've told me about the clubs at your school and your roommates and your professors who don't grade as easily as you would like them to grade. You've proven that to me in some of the college papers you've sent me to read. I'm proud of you for that; I always will be.

      Fourteen years ago, the Olive Garden launched an advertising campaign with the slogan, "When you're here, you're family." I always have loved that idea of having a place where any time you entered, you felt like family.

The t.v. show Cheers that aired when I was in high school and went off the air the year I graduated had the same kind of feel; it was the place "where you want to go where everybody knows your name." The lyrics to the opening theme song have always stayed with me:
                                         

I like to hope my classroom is like that for all of you--your home, the place where everyone knows your name. So, please continue to visit 211. Wear those bright yellow rectangular visitor badges and know that despite the fact that they may place a barrier between us because you don't get to stay (and I have to sadly say goodbye all over again), you are always a part of room 211; you are always welcome home. My door will be open, you will never be a guest, and I always will be excited to have you back.