5 months ago…
She was nice enough, but curious, and I sensed disappointment behind her kind eyes. Around us the Winter Formal filled the Air and Space Museum with bright lights, tuxedoed teens, and a string of songs that sounded to me like a series of ring tones. This senior and her date had met me at the front door and posed the question.
“No tie,” I answered, adding “it’s your Winter Formal; I’m just security.”
She looked at me quizzically. “You’re the principal.”
My heart sank. I hate disappointing nice people.
“Tonight I’m just making sure things go well,” I tried. She wasn’t buying it.
“This is formal, Mr. Paige.”
I looked to my assistant principals for support, two elegantly dressed women who’d been kind enough not to comment on my fleece jacket. They knew, as did the seventeen year old I was talking to, that such things as Winter Formal matter.
For students they matter a lot.
Being an adult means caring about car payments, dental work, and cholesterol. None of these things are as important to the students at my school as strobe lights, pounding bass, or a chocolate fountain.
And yet that impractical chocolate fountain, perhaps because of its impracticability, means much to the young people who are the lifeblood of the school. As their principal it’s important that I invest in the things that matter to them.
I feel paternal to almost two thousand kids; I can at least try to be a good school dad.
This isn’t to say that I don’t listen to Sinatra on my drive down to the dance, but when I get there I should at least be able to tap my feet to the more contemporary tunes.
…and I ought to wear a tie.
My assistant principals and I carpooled in to the House of Blues, and as we got to the door the bouncer took one look at us and said (not asked) “Prom.”
One of the best parts of working in education is the possibility of second chances. On Saturday I left informality at home, put on a suit, and enjoyed prom along with a few hundred well dressed juniors and seniors.
I have the pleasure of being their principal, and thanks to the wisdom, kindness, and pluck of an amazing senior I was able to learn that I was wrong. This isn’t just their prom, but our prom, our whole school’s, and I’m fortunate enough to get to be a part of it.
That’s worth wearing a tie.