“Our schools are not just buildings made out of brick and steel.

They are made up of the people who are inside of them.”

Last week at the Board of Education meeting, three of our student representatives took their seats at the board table and gave their monthly reports. Ezra Fineman from the high school. Sam Gelman from TJ. Vighnesh Rath from Memorial. They walked us through testing prep at the middle schools, a buddy bench donation made in memory of a colleague’s father, an eighth grade Chinese class trip to the Scholar’s Garden, the upcoming Marketplace events at Memorial and TJ, an NJHS induction with twenty-seven new members, junior prom Night in Manhattan theme, the launch of digital payments at the high school, and a national medal at academic decathlon for Joe Subiszak.

Then, near the end, Vighnesh looked up and said something I keep coming back to.

“To all of the educators being recognized tonight, this evening is about celebrating you. Our gratitude must come first. Thank you for the impact, your dedication, and your heart.”

That was an eighth grader. Unprompted. On his own time. He said it before any of the adults in the room got the chance.

What followed was one of my favorite nights of the year. We recognized teachers of the year and educational specialists of the year from every school. We celebrated retirees whose careers in Fair Lawn spanned twenty, twenty-five, thirty, and even thirty-nine years. We honored colleagues who marked 25 years of service to this district. The room stayed full. The applause did not get tired.

This is the work that does not show up on a report. The paraprofessional who knows her students better than anyone. The literacy coach who lifts an entire faculty. The guidance counselor whose warmth steadies a building. The custodian who has kept a school clean and safe for thirty-nine years. The bus driver who has carried our children with care for a quarter of a century. Different schools, different roles, different children in front of each of them. The same essential thing. A belief that every child deserves to be seen, to be challenged, and to be believed in.

This week is Teacher Appreciation Week. Sunday is Mother’s Day. Two recognitions, separated by a few days, are doing the same quiet work in our lives. Mothers and the maternal figures who raised us. Teachers and educators who help our children become who they will be. Both meet children where they are. Both give what is needed, when it is needed, in the way it is needed. That is how a child reaches full potential.

So this week, I am going to get out of the way. Our students said it better than I could.

To every educator and staff member who showed up early today, who stayed late, who noticed the quiet kid, who kept a buddy bench dedicated to someone’s family so others would know they are not alone … thank you. From me, from our leadership team, from our Board, and from the children who already know, even when they do not yet have the words to tell us.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of the mothers and maternal figures in our community.

Read the entire Corner Column here.