Ms Assistant Superintendent is kinder than I would have been.  She did report to my Principal.  She did find him right after observing my Mrs. C are you crying?  Your eyes are wet.  Mrs. C, I had seven boxes of juice this morning!  Mrs. C, I didn't have time to take my meds, can I have flipper (that blasted purple dolphin)?  And, after witnessing the twilight zone of fourth grade math, she smiled and raved (in a good way) to the powers that be.

Whew.

Maybe she saw the desperation in my eyes.  Maybe she looked around the room, saw the loud personalities and the amazing levels of energy and she had a phew moment in her heart.  Or, maybe she saw what I see every morning, even on the craziest of mornings.  Maybe she saw a room full of ma'ams and sirs who are desperate to be seen and heard and loved.  Maybe she saw kids who are easy to underestimate, overlook, pass over.  And then maybe she saw what happens when those kids are seen, heard, loved, looked at.  Because these kids are absolutely stunning.  These kids believe they are the smartest math class in the building.  These kids score higher than they ever have because they believe they are brilliant.  These kids tackle problems that would normally shut them down because they are filled with stern stuff.  They are fighters.  And they blow me away, day after day.  Week after week.

I am sometimes reminded that I don't deserve to be in that room with them if I can't see them for what they are right now.  Unlimited potential.  Beautiful challengers.  Even metric system conquerors.