It’s that time of year again—when former students come into my classroom to vent about the college application process. I’ve already written more letters of recommendation than I can count this year. Now, it’s just a waiting game. My students are not good at waiting, especially when the outcome is out of their control. Not knowing whether they will be accepted to their schools of choice is excruciating.

On a recent field trip, I found Nashley and Bersabeh in a quiet corner of the library, sharing both a chair and a book. For an English teacher, this scene is pure gold: two ninth-graders, becoming friends, in the library, reading a book. I snapped a photo before squealing my delight. Then, I crouched down next to them to find out more about what they were reading.

As a student, seventh grade was a really scary time for me. Even now, I distinctly remember the churning in my belly every morning when I arrived at school. I was crippled by insecurity when the teacher called my name in class and all eyes turned my way. School felt aggressive and frightening. Students struggled for power and to be seen as “popular.” I began to realize that my anxiety was something that made me different from the other kids.