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These are our children.
A collective assortment--some with talent still untapped, many with gifts yet to be unwrapped, a few with intellect that surpasses that of those twice their age, and all with the desire to learn.
To learn.
In the small, rural school setting, our children practice on county roads for cross country meets, avoiding snakes and rabbits. Our children line up on the field in a six-man football game, on a track for a 400m relay, or at a concession stand window to take orders. They wear make-up and costumes in one-act plays and boots and starched jeans/shirts for stock shows of FFA judging contests.
To learn.
After late-night-two-nights a week basketball games, they get up early (as in 5 a.m. early) to ride on a bus to speech and academic meets. After those meets, our children find their second wind and talk all the way home just to keep their sponsor awake. They talk about music and taco stands and what homework is due on Monday after their very, very short weekend.
To learn.
More often than not, our students have academic coaches who
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| One of our children--the one who taught himself Computer Science-- whose mother was also one of our UIL children in the late 1990s. |
are not experts in the contests in which these students participate. Rather than gripe and complain, they choose to own their education with independent study, research, and practice in order to learn.
Our children meet students from other schools who may be competitors but are mostly comrades. Friendships among students from other schools of all sizes, those based first on respect, are a trademark highlight of many of our students, especially those who compete in speech and debate. They revel in the fact that
they have finally found others like themselves--the ones who want to score the touchdown on Friday night but also want to read Poetry on Saturday morning. They are introduced to open minds and rational argumentation. They often forget their awards on the bus because the medals and ribbons are not the day's highlights--it is the experience
of learning.
Finding their niche--from their fashion sense to their choice of extracurricular events--our children are searching for
and finding answers.... and then asking even more questions so they can learn.
Whether individual or group, our children come to understand the necessity of a balanced work ethic--a mantra that insists upon the principle that it is possible and preferable to have fun and to reap joy in the pursuit of knowledge. Because work and fun can go hand in hand when it is fun to learn.
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| The two on the right have fathers who were also "our children." |
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| After teaching the "child" in the middle over 35 years ago, I now refer to him as Mr. Principal. The sponsor on the right is married to another former student. |
As seasons of events end and new ones begin, we witness our children moving from one arena
to another, their mental and physical stamina far greater than ours. From a baseball or softball diamond to a eight-lane track and then on to a
stage or podium or
court, our children are our noblest investment. From them, we learn. 
"The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in our anatomies....you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then--to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn." -- T. H. White, The Once and Future King
