Room 304

You have no windows.
You are grey, with blue bulletin boards.
Thumbtacks, glue, tape, markers, paper, magazines....
You have chairs, tables and chalk...black, perfect chalkboards.
A platform for kids.
but it wasn't the materials you gave me that made me come back to you every year.
It was the conversations and discussions, the opportunity to clearly impact and create meaning in every day life.
It was the enthusiasm and brilliance of little minds, able to reflect and project creativity and intelligence
so seemingly early on a Sunday morning.
It was the community that was built, the celebration of difference in a culture that thrives on mainstream materialism.
It was the staff committment to excellence and excitement for a peoplehood that touches their lives as well....
in this industry, we can't afford to be hypocrites.
It was talk of Kings and Queens, Prophets and Leaders, wars and battles, ethics, values and right vs. wrong.
It was the challenge of figuring out how we celebrate holidays meaningfully, with understanding and a commitment to family customs. Different, but the same.

I bounced and laughed, got discouraged, got excited, created lesson plans, field trips and guest speakers.
For those hours, I came early on a train, in snow, in fall, in spring.
It was time to play, time to teach, time to be a light.
For those hours, I forgot about what my friends were up to, the night before, the world outside.
My classroom had no windows. No light could get through.
But for three years, in that one classroom, I didn't need them.
I had so many windows, with luminous light coming through...