On a beautiful spring day, our Eagle Ranch ninth graders celebrated their last day of school. Some were graduating from the program and returning home. Others would attend the local high school in the fall. I would miss them terribly, but I was so proud of their accomplishments.
Emotional healing and coping skills were the biggest achievements for these at-risk teens. But they were also thrilled with their writing success: magazine articles, short stories, devotions, life stories. I loved watching those words take shape in their creative writing lab. Not without struggle, tears, and perseverance, but also with laughter, joy, self-discovery, and hope for the future.
How did I get so lucky to be part of this? The creative writing lab began when preparation met with opportunity.
Two years earlier, I had relocated during a divorce. In the process, I lost my income and had to start over. I wanted to coach writers, so I set up an online class and responded to an invitation to lead a local workshop. What surprised me most about that workshop was being surrounded by teens who wanted a voice. I saw a future helping teens with writing.
I asked our youth pastor if I could volunteer. She put me in charge of middle school Sunday school, way out of my comfort zone. I had taught college but not middle school. I fell in love with the kids. Together, we developed a curriculum that expanded to a mid-week book club.
I still needed a job. A friend told me about Eagle Ranch, a group home for at-risk teens with an on-campus middle school. I interviewed in May for the only open position, a science parapro. I was sure I belonged there but didn’t hear back.
A friend offered a place to live for minimal rent in exchange for farm chores. I picked up temp work typing handwritten sermons for a retired pastor. In between sermons, I spent time with a teen whose mom was in the hospital with cancer.
As summer drew to a close, I received a call from the head of school at Eagle Ranch. They had filled the science parapro position shortly after my interview. He didn’t notify me because he felt he should hold onto my resume.
“School starts in a week,” he said. “The science parapro had to drop out, so that position is open again, if you want it. But I have something else you might be interested in. Our language arts parapro has left. The teacher would love to hire you and let you create a writing lab.”
It was probably the biggest yes I’ve ever given. Four days later, I was in pre-planning. The following week, I was inviting the kids into the writing lab to begin their creative journeys. As they began to write their personal stories and collaborate on fun projects, I knew that joyful collision of preparation and opportunity was the beginning of hope.
Adventures with God 