Mrs. Speaks definitely is not the mascot of my high school; the Ursulion is, of course.
But if you ask any one of the gals who attended in the ’90s with me (and probably the ’80s and ’70s gals, as well), I suspect they too would call out our principal, Mrs. Speaks, as the preeminent symbol of the school for all those years.
She never dressed up in a lion costume with a giant head, or cartwheeled down the center of a cheer tunnel; rather, she led steadily every one of us in the building. She showed us how to command attention, she taught us to listen to our instincts, and she spoke to us with intention, in a measured cadence.

Every single day of my senior year of high school started in Mrs. Speaks’s office. Once each student had landed in her homeroom seat, the bell rang, and I read the announcements over the PA system.
I drove a carpool of underclasswomen to school and our commute was about 45 minutes.
Every darn morning, I was running late.
I would zip into the lot, scramble to find (or create) a parking spot, and then spriiiiint into the office.
I always had to use the restroom, and Mrs. Speaks always let me use hers.
And then I did the announcements.

And thennn, I would move about the rest of each day using my voice throughout it.

When I think about it now, it’s pretty remarkable.
My folks taught me how to walk tall, with my shoulders back –
and then they gave me the opportunity to spend my high-school days in a place that nurtured and affirmed my sturdy posture and strong voice.
{I mean, who ever liked going to the principal’s office?}

A couple weeks ago I got to start my morning with Mrs. Speaks again, just over 30 years since I graduated.
Our whole family was in attendance when my middle sister kick-started our high school’s symposium with the keynote speech.
Mrs. Speaks, long retired, was in the front row too. Quietly, generously, very presently cheering on voices she had helped to amplify.

People are THE BEST.
LoveLoveLove,

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