Homecoming Hoopla

Tonight is Homecoming. 

At most schools, Homecoming hosts visiting alumni and crowns a queen and plays a football game against a team they are scheduled to beat.  And, yes, we do that, too. 

But, oh, there’s so much more. Here, Homecoming is a weeklong hoopla, a hoopla with a theme. This year:  GAME TIME.  So students dressed up every day to reflect some spinoff of that concept: Monday was Bed Time (a favorite and an excuse to wear pajamas to school – but why anyone would want to wear those heavy, 125° fleece animal suits is beyond me!); Tuesday was Adventure Time (which happened to fall on Talk Like a Pirate Day… duh); Wednesday brought Half Time (find a partner and come as a famous pair); with Thursday came some Down Time (represent your favorite pastime); and today, Friday was Game Time, a chance to rock that school spirit. As if dressing up weren’t enough, each grade also decorated their lockers to reflect the dress up days.

But, oh, there’s so much more. The dressing up happened in the days. After school, for this one week, students got comfortable and shuffled off to various spots in the school building to work on artistic projects: banners that will hang all year in the hallways, a variety of posters that will hang in the cafeteria, dance routines in which every member of each class participates, and a skit. Painting and sweating and writing lines, students labored over these tasks, fueled not only by delicious homecooked or catered meals brought by parents but also by a nightly devotional.

My twelve-year-old, a middle schooler who is observing all the mayhem for the first time this year, asked me before it all started, “What is the point of Homecoming, Mom?” I confess, sometimes I wonder that myself. Several times this year I wondered.

I wondered when my skit committee wouldn’t throw out really bad jokes or when the exhaustion of several 15-hour days made students (and teachers) testy or when the encouragement was eclipsed by criticism or when I hadn’t seen my family for a week because they were all in bed when I got home from school.

All for a trophy, not a cup but JUGG -- freshmen against sophomores against juniors against seniors, competing for this prize.

Oh, they got scrappy. They got secretive. They worked together. They fought. They encouraged, and they blistered one another.

But this afternoon, when all was revealed, these students, wiped out from a week of late night artistry and rehearsals, restoked their adrenaline and let loose school spirit I have never before heard. They reveled in the fruits of their labors:  the laughter at well-timed jokes in the skit, the applause at precision moves in their dance routine, ooohs and ahhs from other classes as they unfurled their banners, and compliments on their clever and well executed posters.  They chanted for themselves and for one another. They sang. They danced. They showed the power of the Body.

My prayer all week has been that God be glorified. Every day, I begged Him to find the worth in their efforts, to show them how to honor Him. I imagine there were moments of dishonor. Aren't there always? But I know that these students worked together to achieve what none of them could have done alone. And they earned the right to be proud of what they accomplished.

This teamwork, that problem solving, those humble apologies, these new friendships forged – that’s what I imagine God smiled down on. And I think He’s grinning as He looks years ahead and sees some of these friendships enduring to rocking chairs and false teeth.

It’s not JUGG that really mattered this week, although tonight when it is awarded at halftime, the winning class will crow mightily. It’s not the bragging rights that go along with the trophy, no matter what they think. It’s not who wins the poster category or the class unity category or skit.

It’s the lessons these teenagers learned about getting along and loving one another.

I’m proud to say that, in some small way, some of those lessons happened in my classroom.