When the sixth and eighth graders came into the lunch room yesterday, it was putting theory to the test. We had counted tables, we had counted chairs, we had ensured egresses; we were ready. However, as is sometimes the case, what you plan does not play out as you expect. Kids were crunched in a way we did not want. At the end of the introduction to lunch, they were off again, but one table of eighth-grade boys stuck around. Working alongside faculty, they helped us rearrange the room to make it comfortable for everyone. 

In the Middle School, just as is true of Middle Schoolers, we make grand plans. We imagine what could be and then try to carve the path to get there. Students here do the same. At the start of the year, they say, "This is who I am this year," or in a class, they say, "This is what I am imagining for my project," but as time passes, and what we picture turns to reality, our plans often play out differently than expected. This truth is one of the characteristics of life that we begin to learn in Middle School, particularly at the start of a year. On the first day of the year, kids rush in the front door, and we see who has grown, who is making a new fashion choice, and who is associating with whom. These choices are reflections of plans that a student has created for themselves. But just as our plans for the setup of the lunchroom did not play out, kids' plans often shift and change along the way, leading them to new and unexpected places. The key is that they are in a community where this change is supported and welcomed when someone desires it. Just as the eighth graders came to our rescue in the lunchroom, every kid here receives support throughout this year so they can change who they are and who they want to be if they so decide.

A few reminders for the coming days:

I’m looking forward to seeing how plans morph and find new avenues of fruition this year.