One day sixth grader Josh Puncochar, who sits directly behind my desk, decides to stick his pencil into the bowels of my computer.
A small fire ball explodes dangerously close to his face and shocks us all. Nobody is more shocked than Josh. He stares at me, eyes wide with fright.
"I swear to God!" he shakes his head vehemently. "I didn't do nuthin'!"
I bury my face in my hands. I do not care to be remembered as the teacher in charge of the kid who fries himself on my computer. If he has to incinerate himself, let him do it on Kester's watch. And didn't we just go over double negatives?
It is my first introduction to the class of 2016. I wonder on that day if I can outlast these sixth graders. Will they graduate before I drop dead?
Josh's partner in crime is Austin Walton, a daring little devil who swaggers through the halls in over-sized cowboy boots. I remember the afternoon he provokes an irritable senior boy and runs like heck. He almost gets away, too. But if you're running from an outraged kid twice your size, you'd better ditch the cowboy boots.
Lauren Webb and Daryn Willman are the girl equivalent of Josh and Austin. Joined at the hip, they raucously laugh and are always each other's best audience. Daryn has perfected an impression of her math teacher, Mr. Ross.
"It's hilarious!" Lauren shrieks. "Wanna see her do it?"
No. No, I do not. I know with deep certainty that in Mr. Ross's class, Daryn performs an equally unflattering impression of me.
In the faculty lounge, sixth grade teachers stagger through the door to collapse. We congratulate ourselves on surviving another day and prop each other up with soft comforting words the way a mother soothes her colicky baby. Some of us speculate about drinking heavily. Or getting a job at Spin City Laundromat.
It's not that they all scream and blow up desktop computers. Some, in fact, are overachieving 11-year-olds who worry about taking the ACT still four years away and furiously edit and re-edit their college resumes. Emma Reilly hyperventilates when she misses a quiz question. Vasu Balraj agonizes over her history notes. At the other end of the spectrum is Jackson Anderson who strolls from class to class with not a care in the world - or any completed homework either.
Many teachers, like me, accompany them all the way through middle school and high school. We shepherd them to eighth grade field trips, hear about their first homecoming dates, wait anxiously for them to pass their driver's license tests, and choke up as they don caps and gowns. All the while, we are witnessing their transformation from 11-year-old almost adolescents to confident, accomplished young adults. And we know them very well.
Matt Huntwork and James Noble, twin towheads, have become tall handsome young men. Megan Wardyn with her heart-shaped face is the dancer extraordinaire. Leaping beside her, smile blazing, is Jenny Sindt. Katelin O'Connor and Haley Roush are the quiet blonde beauties who completely lose themselves to the roles of the evil stepsisters in the musical production of Cinderella. And Cynthia Calderon is the perfect compact cheerleader you see in all the movies.Sadie Goering and Emily Herbek are exceptional writers and wise beyond their young years. Lexie Socha, too, is a writer and a brave girl who speaks her mind to kids and teachers alike.
They all have their struggles, some more than most. Bryce Sealock holds his dying father's hand and helps usher him to Heaven. Stoic Regan Moorman keeps the pain of her parents' divorce to herself, and Justice Ritz endures surgery and is forced to give up her beloved softball team. Sweet Jordan Kerns-Schneider, my husband's favorite right hand man, endures daily migraine headaches without complaint. Some of these kids have dealt with alcoholism, depression and even abuse in their families. They write about those experiences in my class, and I am overcome by their forgiving and loving natures.
Little Rylan Dvorak is true blue and innocent. In middle school, after a trip to Hawaii with his family, he tells us about a frightening moment just before the plane arrives in Hawaii. As the craft lands, the pilot announces, "Ladies and Gentlemen, prepare to get LAID!"
Rylan is horrified and refuses to leave the plane. Finally, he glances out the window to see exotic hula dancers throwing leis around the necks of the arriving passengers.
"I can't even tell you how relieved I was," he shakes his small head soberly.
Brayden Adair is sleepy eyed and movie star handsome, and Eshan Sood is the consummate joker. One day he carries scissors through the halls, pretends to snip off locks of hair from outraged girls, then captures it all on film to post on social media.
Some of these kids are so talented it's a sin. I think of Mallory Woods in middle school singing sweetly on stage as Alice in Wonderland. This year she is Cinderella in the school musical, and I can hardly believe her grownup poise and beauty. In English class, however, she writes about her biggest disappointment - that she is not an African American pop star called "Shaquisha".
There is nobody more musical, however, than Molly Magana who masters like a pro the flute, the sax, the ukulele, and is utterly devoted to her band teacher, Ms. Balasa.
Jackson loves beautiful Vasu, Josh Arends adores the enchanting Rachel Zulkoski, and Ryan Bernal and Shayla Serrato are the cradle snatchers of the group. I worry they are too young for such seriousness. Caring for another so deeply, however, has helped them become better people.
Idalis Erives, with her warm brown eyes, is sweet as cream, and Meghan Vaughn crinkles her nose when she laughs and endears herself to all of us. Nathan Boon's lazy smile greets teachers in the hallway, and he works our crowd like a pro.
In my fourth period English class, Aidan Ziller is a clown, and I can't wait for the good natured insults he showers on lovable Saul Llamas - or Poppy, as his friends call him, and Treyton Ruhl, the tall, patient kid everybody loves.
Most of us remember the birth of Laura Lowry, whose father James teaches at GICC. John and I babysit her when she is a toddler, and our boys adore her. Tommy, our eight-year-old, sighs. "Why can't she be my baby sister?"
Laura is still beautiful and blue-eyed but doesn't need a babysitter anymore. They are all young adults now, and they can hardly wait to barrel out the door.
As if I am propelled into the future, I can vividly see Jimmy Riley astride his tractor on a hot July day. Vasu, in a white lab coat, gently listens to her patients. and Michael Cornelius is always in a pressed suit striding around with a microphone. What the heck is he doing with a microphone, I wonder? It will be something exceptional and important - that's all I know.
In any case, they are ready to leave us. They are no longer 11-year-olds. Our little worry wart Emma Reilly has focused her discipline and drive for perfection into tennis and is determined to come back from Lincoln as a champ. Daryn and Lauren are still joined at the hip but are steeling themselves to part ways and begin their own lives. Jackson Anderson, who never bothered with middle school homework, is now an A plus English student. And Josh Puncochar? He hasn't blown up a single computer in six years. They are - all of them - beautiful, strong, brave young men and women.
Armed with the love of good parents, a strong faith and the support of lifelong friendships, our class of 2016 is ready for the next chapter. If they have any qualms at all, it is not evident this week. This week is all about bonding at retreat, laughing at their senior slide show, and walking down the aisle to the stirring notes of Pomp and Circumstance.
They are ready, however, to leave, and we understand we must let them go. My husband and I have said goodbye to two generations of students. But they come back. They become our doctors, our priests, our plumbers and our neighbors. They turn up at Karnival Kapers with their children and grandchildren, and my husband teases them as in days of old.
"You still owe me a history assignment!" he bellows to the balding father of three.
We learn to rely on them in our old age. The Class of 2016 will be no different. They will one day come back to us with their spouses and offspring to tell us about their lives. They will make us very proud.
But what am I saying? Heck. They make us proud now.
A small fire ball explodes dangerously close to his face and shocks us all. Nobody is more shocked than Josh. He stares at me, eyes wide with fright.
"I swear to God!" he shakes his head vehemently. "I didn't do nuthin'!"
 |
| Mrs. Howard's fourth period English class |
It is my first introduction to the class of 2016. I wonder on that day if I can outlast these sixth graders. Will they graduate before I drop dead?
Josh's partner in crime is Austin Walton, a daring little devil who swaggers through the halls in over-sized cowboy boots. I remember the afternoon he provokes an irritable senior boy and runs like heck. He almost gets away, too. But if you're running from an outraged kid twice your size, you'd better ditch the cowboy boots.
Lauren Webb and Daryn Willman are the girl equivalent of Josh and Austin. Joined at the hip, they raucously laugh and are always each other's best audience. Daryn has perfected an impression of her math teacher, Mr. Ross.
"It's hilarious!" Lauren shrieks. "Wanna see her do it?"
No. No, I do not. I know with deep certainty that in Mr. Ross's class, Daryn performs an equally unflattering impression of me.
In the faculty lounge, sixth grade teachers stagger through the door to collapse. We congratulate ourselves on surviving another day and prop each other up with soft comforting words the way a mother soothes her colicky baby. Some of us speculate about drinking heavily. Or getting a job at Spin City Laundromat.
It's not that they all scream and blow up desktop computers. Some, in fact, are overachieving 11-year-olds who worry about taking the ACT still four years away and furiously edit and re-edit their college resumes. Emma Reilly hyperventilates when she misses a quiz question. Vasu Balraj agonizes over her history notes. At the other end of the spectrum is Jackson Anderson who strolls from class to class with not a care in the world - or any completed homework either.
Many teachers, like me, accompany them all the way through middle school and high school. We shepherd them to eighth grade field trips, hear about their first homecoming dates, wait anxiously for them to pass their driver's license tests, and choke up as they don caps and gowns. All the while, we are witnessing their transformation from 11-year-old almost adolescents to confident, accomplished young adults. And we know them very well.
 |
| Cheerleaders Regan, Rachel and Cynthia |
 |
| Josh, Toad, and Austin |
Rylan is horrified and refuses to leave the plane. Finally, he glances out the window to see exotic hula dancers throwing leis around the necks of the arriving passengers.
"I can't even tell you how relieved I was," he shakes his small head soberly.
Brayden Adair is sleepy eyed and movie star handsome, and Eshan Sood is the consummate joker. One day he carries scissors through the halls, pretends to snip off locks of hair from outraged girls, then captures it all on film to post on social media.
There is nobody more musical, however, than Molly Magana who masters like a pro the flute, the sax, the ukulele, and is utterly devoted to her band teacher, Ms. Balasa.
Jackson loves beautiful Vasu, Josh Arends adores the enchanting Rachel Zulkoski, and Ryan Bernal and Shayla Serrato are the cradle snatchers of the group. I worry they are too young for such seriousness. Caring for another so deeply, however, has helped them become better people.
Idalis Erives, with her warm brown eyes, is sweet as cream, and Meghan Vaughn crinkles her nose when she laughs and endears herself to all of us. Nathan Boon's lazy smile greets teachers in the hallway, and he works our crowd like a pro.
In my fourth period English class, Aidan Ziller is a clown, and I can't wait for the good natured insults he showers on lovable Saul Llamas - or Poppy, as his friends call him, and Treyton Ruhl, the tall, patient kid everybody loves.
 |
| Laura Lowry, aged 2, with Kenny and Tommy Howard,. |
Laura is still beautiful and blue-eyed but doesn't need a babysitter anymore. They are all young adults now, and they can hardly wait to barrel out the door.
In any case, they are ready to leave us. They are no longer 11-year-olds. Our little worry wart Emma Reilly has focused her discipline and drive for perfection into tennis and is determined to come back from Lincoln as a champ. Daryn and Lauren are still joined at the hip but are steeling themselves to part ways and begin their own lives. Jackson Anderson, who never bothered with middle school homework, is now an A plus English student. And Josh Puncochar? He hasn't blown up a single computer in six years. They are - all of them - beautiful, strong, brave young men and women.
Armed with the love of good parents, a strong faith and the support of lifelong friendships, our class of 2016 is ready for the next chapter. If they have any qualms at all, it is not evident this week. This week is all about bonding at retreat, laughing at their senior slide show, and walking down the aisle to the stirring notes of Pomp and Circumstance.
They are ready, however, to leave, and we understand we must let them go. My husband and I have said goodbye to two generations of students. But they come back. They become our doctors, our priests, our plumbers and our neighbors. They turn up at Karnival Kapers with their children and grandchildren, and my husband teases them as in days of old.
"You still owe me a history assignment!" he bellows to the balding father of three.
We learn to rely on them in our old age. The Class of 2016 will be no different. They will one day come back to us with their spouses and offspring to tell us about their lives. They will make us very proud.
But what am I saying? Heck. They make us proud now.
 |
| Grand Island Central Catholic Class of 2016 |
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