how to be good people

On the last day of 7th grade my friend David asked me "out" in the back of my yearbook. (The text above is hilarious for 39 different reasons.) I said yes, I would go out with him. And that made it official. Just where we were going, no middle schooler actually ever knows.

A day or two later we were talking on the phone and he was telling me that he was going to his cabin that weekend. He commented that I would love his cabin and that sometime I should come up with his family.

Well, this freaked me out. And I'm not sure if it was in that conversation or in the next one, but soon after I dumped David.

My plan was to never talk to him again. Ever. In my life. Which was going to be tricky, but I felt up to the challenge since I made it through the rest of the summer avoiding him each Sunday morning at church. And then school started up and I knew this was going to be hard. We were in classes together. And band. And the school play.

But I kept at it. Avoiding eye contact. Avoiding him.

One afternoon during play practice the secretary's voice came over the loud speaker, "Becca Harrington and David Wagner, please report to Mrs. Johnston's room. Becca Harrington and David Wagner, please report to Mrs. Johnston's room."

When I got there all of the chairs were up on the tables from the end of the day, except for two that were facing each other with a table between them. Mrs. Johnston had us sit down. And then she said to us with love and care, "I don't know what happened to you two, but this has to stop. You are two of my favorite people and you deserve each other's friendship. You are better than this. You are meant to be friends and that's what I want to see when you are done talking here today."

She left the room and I was left to talk to David. And so I told him that when he said I should come to his cabin sometime I thought that was moving too fast and he commented that he never meant anything by it, except that I would love his cabin and that it's his favorite place in the world. His feelings had been hurt by my 7th grade dramatic over-reaction and we were able to talk through it all and when we walked out of Mrs. Johnston's classroom that afternoon we were friends again.

I love this story because it shows quite clearly how dumb and mean a 7th grade girl can be. And how important a 6th grade math teacher can be. Because Mrs. Johnston used her influence as our teacher not only to teach us math, but to teach us awkward middle schoolers how to be good people.

She was just my middle school math teacher, but since the day I stepped into her classroom, she was one of my most faithful mentors and constant life teachers.

And it's a good thing she got David and me talking again. Because we ended up MCing the senior prom, taking a train out to Montana to work at flathead lutheran bible camp, meeting up in India while studying abroad, and now, to top it all off, we live in the same small town.

Sure am glad I stopped ignoring him.