As I posted on Diary’s Facebook page yesterday morning,
I just got a WONDERFUL phone call from Disney. Apologetic, gracious, compassionate and determined to ensure that it won’t happen again. I was moved to tears.
I can’t wait to tell you about the conversation. And I will, I swear. And when I do I will include the information that I’ve been promising on the Guest Assistance Card and some of the things that made our visit to the parks work. I’ll even throw in some random tips on where to find MIckey and Minnie and the princesses just for fun :).
But in the meantime, I’m going to ask for your indulgence this morning as I go a little – or a lot- off topic.
See I have this friend. And she’s kinda awesome. Like really, really awesome. But you know how sometimes the most awesome people in your life don’t always know how awesome they are? And how sometimes you feel like it’s up to you to remind them?
Well, my friend needs to hear it.
You know those people that you find – sometimes once in a lifetime – who simply glow from within? Who you could dunk in mud and wrap in tin foil and hide in a dark closet and somehow their light would still shine through? Well, that’s my friend.
She’s smart and she’s funny and she’s incredibly beautiful – even if she doesn’t always recognize her beauty. She is compassionate and creative and by God, in her worst moments she is the mother I pray to be in my best.
She’s fiercely loyal, one of the most generous souls I know and one of the best friends I’ve ever had. She is also, without a doubt, one of the most talented humans roaming the planet. There’s nothing she couldn’t do.
But what she does – what she does every single day – is change lives. And this is the part that I’m not sure she gets.
I mean, I know sometimes she gets it, but I’m not sure that she lets the enormity of it really, truly sink in. You see, my friend is a high school drama teacher. But she’s not just *a* teacher, she’s *that* teacher. You know the one, don’t you?
The one who searches the crowd and instinctively homes in on the broken wing. The one who finds the kid in the chorus who has no idea he’s got the lead in him. The one who welcomes with open arms the awkward freshman who’s gotten kicked around by the ‘cool kids’, the shy boy who hides in the background because no one’s ever told him he’s just as good – better – than they are. The one who is a safe place to land for the girl who just can’t quite fall into step with her peers, who feels like she’ll never belong. And she’s the one who spots the kid who knows – who deep down knows – that he can do it, if only someone – anyone – would give him the chance. And she is the one who does. Every time.
My friend is *that* teacher. She is the one who finds – or creates – a space and a role for everyone. The one who nurtures and prods, coddles and coaxes and lovingly pushes her kids – our kids – accepting nothing less than all she knows they are capable of. She is the one who sees into kids – who understands that they are so much more than the boxes they come in.
She is the one who changes lives simply by showing up at work every day and being who she is. Who by letting her own fire blaze enables and encourages everyone around her to ignite their own.
And well, that all adds up a whole lot of awesome.
So now you know why I had to share, right?
I love you, Drama.
You matter. To me, and to so many others.
Love you big,
P.S. To ALL of the teachers and therapists and various and sundry others who show up to support our kids every day, thank you. To those who, like my friend, believe in the limitless potential of every student they touch and who thrive on bringing it out – well, you are our heroes.
P.P.S. Thank you for your patience with me, friends. Disney story on Monday. Pinky swear.