Randy Toohill

I’m a high school principal. Last week, I had to call a senior, Leo, into my office. Our system showed he had missed twenty days this semester. That’s automatic failure. He walked in, head down, wearing the same hoodie he’d worn all week. I had the suspension papers typed out. "Leo, what’s going on?" I asked, ready to give the standard lecture on responsibility. He didn't look up. He just whispered, "My mom’s chemo schedule changed. She’s too weak to walk after the appointments, and we don't have a car. I have to carry her up the stairs to our apartment. It takes all afternoon." I looked at the papers on my desk. They felt incredibly heavy. I didn’t see a truant student anymore; I saw a boy being a man before he had to be. I ripped up the papers. "Here’s the deal," I told him. "You get her home. I’m emailing your teachers to set up remote work for the days you miss. We are going to get you across that stage." He finally looked up, eyes red, and just nodded. Sometimes, the most important lesson a student can learn is that authority actually has a heart. Anonymous

Corn goes up. Corn goes down. ZZ stays headed towards par. Good morning.