The Principal's Morning

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Before the buses arrive 
with their cargo of 
dreams and drama, 
before the first bell 
splits the silence 
like a starting gun, 
I stand in the empty 
hallway 
and listen.

The building 
holds its breath. 
Lockers wait 
like closed books. 
Classroom doors 
stand ready, 
guardians 
of possibility.

In twenty minutes, 
this place 
will explode with life— 
arguments 
about lunch money, 
discoveries 
in science labs, 
the quiet triumph 
of a struggling reader 
finally getting it.

But right now, 
in this cathedral 
of learning, 
I make 
my daily promise:

Today I will see them. 
Not as test scores 
walking, 
not as behavior problems 
pending, 
not as data points 
to be managed.

Today I will see Sarah, 
who hides 
her math anxiety 
behind class clown antics.

Today I will see Marcus, 
whose anger 
is really grief 
for a father 
who left.

Today I will see Mrs. Johnson, 
twenty-seven years 
in the same classroom, 
wondering 
if she still 
makes a difference.

The buses 
are turning the corner 
now. 
I can hear 
the rumble of 
tomorrow 
mixed with the echo 
of yesterday.

Time to unlock the doors. 
Time to begin 
again. 
The ancient work 
of growing human beings.

Some days we teach 
algebra. 
Some days we teach 
kindness. 
Some days we teach 
that failure 
is just another word 
for learning.

Every day, 
we teach 
that someone 
believes in you.

The bell rings. 
Here they come.