I wrote this… essay? stream of consciousness? flurry of words? Whatever it is, I wrote it on May 26, 2021, FWAFA’s graduation day for the class of 2021. But I’m only just now posting it. Because. <shrugs>

5/26/21

3 years ago, in the early of summer of 2018, my friend Kede Van Dyck texted me to ask if I would join her as a senior sponsor. That school year had been tough and exhausting. Kede would be stepping up as sponsor because that was a year that so many of our teachers moved on from FWAFA, she wanted to make sure the class of 2019 had a great senior year in spite of some shifts and changes at the school they grew up at, and, truthfully, she really didn’t have an option. There was no one else to do this work and so, like always, if work needs to be done, Kede will do it. I felt (feel) the same way and told her that I would do it as long as I never had to process or make financial decisions having to do with the class fundraising and spending. She agreed, and then we asked Jackson Hill to join us because we knew our male-identifying seniors needed a role model, and Jackson was the perfect one to help us make decisions since he had been a FWAFA senior several years before (it is incredibly annoying how young he is and yet how wise. I am ready for my best friend Jackson to be in his 30s so he can stop making me feel old).

This post is going to go on for a while because I’m a writer, but it all boils down to this: we really didn’t know what we were getting into. We knew it would be hard for several reasons: 1) in the past the sponsors had been teachers of senior classes, and while I taught a few of the seniors, none of us taught all of them. 2) The class of 2019, our first class to sponsor, had been through a lot that I won’t get into here, but their senior year was truly filled with questions as they watched many staff members that they had grown up with move on and had their teaching roster shuffled into the middle of the year 3) the three of us already had a full load of teaching/counseling, directing, and admin work – this was just extra. A lot of fun, but unpaid extras.

The good news was, we had a lot of support. An amazing set of class officers that included Sydney Dotson, Luke Dean, Elyse Cipriano, and Tiffany Texada. Tiffany’s mom, Natalie, was our CAO at the time and devoted to making sure they had the best senior year possible. We had a cheerleader in our principal that came in that year, Rhonda Renner. All of these people really set up a foundation so that Kede, Jackson, and I could help the seniors achieve the things they wanted: an awesome senior trip, a “normal” but memorable senior year filled with ALL of the FWAFA traditions (and there are a LOT!), and a stellar senior showcase.

Showcase was a big reason that Jackson and I took on the senior sponsor work. This is the final performance for the seniors at our school, and it takes a lot to put on a good show. As directors and fine arts teachers, we have the skills needed to do it. Plus it’s fun. Truthfully, the kids know how to put on a show and, led by their Class VP as the director, they create the show entirely on their own, we really just remind them of things and help them wrangle their peers and try to squash any end of year drama that may come up. Mr. Hill is better at that last one than I am, but I also do a pretty good job of getting the students, dancers and non-dancers alike, performance ready. We all have our strengths.

I was so excited to finish strong with the Class of 2019 and move on to 2020. “This will be a normal year, and we can really do this right since we’ve done it before.”

Oh boy.

Spoiler alert: pandemic cut our year short, but even before that we had a complete changeover in our administrative staff. The Class of 2020 didn’t have a principal to start the year, but we were blessed in October with the amazing Dr. Jennifer Jackson who jumped in and did a LOT of listening and supporting. Right about the time we were about to really shift into end-of-year senior activities mode, we went on Spring Break and never came back. While we rescued some senior activities in late July… most of the things that class looked forward to were lost.

We did our best for the Class of 2020, and if any of you are reading this… we really did try. I am so sorry for what you lost. I wish there was something we could have done, or that I could do now.

Truthfully, as heartbroken as I was over the never-ending end of the 2020 school year, in March of 2020 I saw the writing on the wall and knew that the pandemic was going to affect the class of 2021’s senior year much more. A lot of people around me were convinced we’d be back to normal by the Fall. I knew that couldn’t be true, and it was difficult to hold that information in my head while others were being optimistic. The summer of 2020 was marked for me by uncertainty and frustration. I just wanted answers for what we would do. Texas lawmakers made that difficult as they went back and forth on rules about school “reopenings,” (we. Never. Closed. I will die on that hill…) online learning, and the role of our health departments. Add that to the rising numbers of cases and deaths, the justified civil unrest throughout the summer, and the constant volatility of US politics in an election year, and I was done before I started.

I started having what I would classify as panic attacks in April of 2020. I would wake up in the middle of the night in tears over all these kids (both ’20 and ’21) had gone through in their lives and how scared I was that life would never return to normal. I had fits of rage in July as I tried to manage my workload with my mental health (I don’t think I have ever worked harder during a “break” than the summer of 2020). And I remember having a pretty bad episode on the phone with my mom just days before the school year began. Oh, and I was also trying to keep our new dance faculty member, Jasmine Jaramillo in the loop as she began her first year teaching at FWAFA. Being in your first FWAFA year is really hard, and I could not prepare her for this year. I literally just shrugged my shoulders at one point and said “I mean… we’ll do something right?” Isabella Rodriguez was moving from part-time to full time and I also had nothing to tell her, no way to lead or help either of them through this. I’m just glad they both stuck around and did all they could this year. I would not have made it through without them, and I wouldn’t have blamed them if they had peaced out at any point.

Anyway, somehow the school year started, and I remember everything and also nothing at all. As class sponsors we get a front row seat to the phases of a senior year: back to school excitement, the winter doldrums, senioritis, post spring break “I just want to get out of here, what’s the point?,” “my senior year has sucked and I hate everyone,” and finally, my favorite part “omg it can’t be over, why didn’t I savor it more.” Sentimental Seniors are my favorite seniors. I love being a person they can come hug when they feel overwhelmed, I love seeing them cry at the weight of their friendships and the work they’ve accomplished, and I, selfishly, love getting the notes and cards and random texts and taking the photos and having moments with them where they realize how much the adults in their life love them and become overwhelmed at the next step they will take. I love telling them that they are ready.

I feel especially close to this group, the dancers in particular, for a million reasons: Many of them were in the first class I taught at FWAFA, and those that weren’t I taught for all or most of their years there. We went through the pandemic together, which is an awful thing but a shared experience that has shaped the way I view life, teaching, dance, art, and community. Because of all of this, I have cried all year long. There are so many times this year that I cried in front of students, but most of the time they had no idea, because they only ever saw me in my literal mask, and it’s really good at hiding my tears and sobs. Somehow for the last 2 weeks I ran out of tears. I got teary, but one deep breath and it dissipates. And while this part of the year has been marked by their tears, and not mine, I have been grateful that I’ve been able to soak up every moment with them. They have blessed me with so many kind words and actions of gratitude. They have protected me. I have done my best to just keep my eyes open and listen and watch and pay attention and enjoy.

There were many times that I got frustrated this year. It was a constant battle between making adjustments to existing traditions and just leaving them behind because they weren’t possible. It’s difficult to work really hard to give students new opportunities in the face of adversity, and also hear them complain about all they’ve lost. It’s hard not to take things personally when you’ve personally invested so much. But somewhere in the last 2 weeks things got better and I realized why I took on this role 3 years ago… a big reason was for this class. They have my heart. Somewhere along they way, they found their way into my soul, dug a little hole, and they have a nest in there. They are about to leave their nest, but I will keep it for them so that they can return at any moment. But the biggest reason is just because I love students at this age and watching them come into their own and love on each other as they finish one chapter and move onto the next.  I have the best seat in the house and the best friends sitting next to me to view it with.

Kede, Jackson, and I do a LOT of work and send a lot of snarky gifs via text to get through the sponsoring. This year was hard, but we did it, and really the kids did it. Yes, it was tumultuous, but we also could not have done it without THIS GROUP. They have stepped up in the face of uncertainty. They have showed us the way. They have been the light in a dark year. And while I didn’t know what we were getting into in 2018, I believe that we were called into these roles for many reasons including this season. I’m glad I have them – these seniors, these sponsor friends. They have made this year more than worth it, and I am so grateful.