Every year, I write about graduation and reflect on my takeaways for the year. On how I remember these seniors. And I knew instantly and without a doubt, that I will forever remember the class of 2024 for the relationships we forged together.

I learned quickly that I would need to work hard to build connections with this group because their high school career began with the Covid virus destroying not just immune systems, but also long-established secondary school social systems.

Isolated behind masks and six feet of distance, these kiddos functioned on fractured school relationships: class sizes chopped in half, lunch trays taken to study hall, traffic patterns clearly delineated; staircases assigned to go up and staircases designed to go down (and never the twain should mix).

The traditional mix and match grab bag of cafeteria seating, club sign ups, and school dances weren’t in place. Strangers remained strangers and even friends were kept at arms’ length. They struggled to form connections with their peers and their teachers.

Things had improved to near-normal by their junior year, but even so, once I got them as seniors, they were still hesitant to put themselves out there – especially with their teachers. They had known invisibility thanks to wearing masks as freshmen, and I think they still suffered from not feeling fully seen and understood.

I’ve always greeted students at the door. Always. It’s nothing new. But what was new for me this year was making sure I said their name as I greeted them EVERY time they entered my classroom. EVERY time I called on them in class. EVERY time I saw them around town. EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Saying someone’s name is a simple thing, but such a big deal. It feels personal, makes them feel special, feel seen. It truly does help build trust.

After learning their names, I made it a point to learn something special about each kid: their activities, hobbies, favorite colors, artists, after-school jobs or after-high-school plans.

Somewhere between the greetings and the shared knowledge, they began to open up with me and with their classmates — talking to people beyond their cliques and sharing more than just weekend plans.  

We always explore real world topics in Advanced Comp. Tough world topics. And so many of these students have dealt with (or are still dealing with) tough, real world topics — more than any other group I’ve taught.  Since the pandemic shutdown, addictions, abuse, and food scarcity has multiplied, while family units and financial security has broken down. These traumas made this group starved for connection, but wary of sharing.

But through the careful building of a safe space in my classroom, students began sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly in their lives. Together, we learned about one another’s struggles, gifts, triumphs, and traumas. Yes, together.

I share too.

Because my job as an English teacher is to teach students to find, hone, and use their voices. And if I were to remain silent, they would see me as a hypocrite. As an imposter. A fake. But I’ve learned if I share my genuine self with them, they are much more likely to do the same with me.

And share we did. Our hearts and our minds, our joys and our sorrows, our goals, and our aspirations.

This year’s group of seniors is something special. And they’ve carved themselves a niche in my heart where they will forever remain. This group of kids who loves everything from chick fil a waffle fries to 3D nail designs, Patrick Mahomes on Sunday afternoons and TikTok all night, every night, the kindergarten classroom where they interned, the Atlanta Braves, the Kendrick/Drake beef, the tattoo they designed in honor of their father’s memory, the slingshot dropped and found in the dirt in Mexico, their grandmother’s bracelet, their mother’s sacrifices, being first in their family to graduate high school or attend college or both.

I am so incredibly proud of this senior class, and I cannot wait to rejoice in their future accomplishments. We are eternally connected.

Oh, how I love them