A few weeks ago, one of my favorite students asked if I’d help him with a video project for his broadcast class. “Just a quick interview,” he said. “I’ll ask a few questions—and if you have any photos from different chapters of your life, that would be awesome.”

It sounded simple enough. I figured it was one of those assignments that would get edited, graded, and buried on a school hard drive forever. The next morning, while waiting for my tea to steep, I scrambled through photo albums and sent over a few pictures—me as a kid on the monkey bars, a couple of graduation shots, some travel memories—and figured that would be the end of it.

But today, as I walked into the main office, the broadcast teacher smiled and said, “You’re featured on the Hawkeye News today.”

I blinked. “Wait—what?”

Turns out, I’d been included in a staff spotlight on the school broadcast. My face. My voice. My old photos. Streaming in classrooms all over campus.

It was unexpected and kind of hilarious—but also, deeply moving.

A few weeks earlier, the teacher had mentioned she was showing the student videos to her classes as part of the grading process. “Yours came on,” she told me, “and the whole class just stopped what they were doing and watched.” I laughed when she said it—assuming it was a fluke. Or maybe they were just tired.

But today, during second period—my class that usually half-listens to the announcements while chatting—they went totally quiet. Not a single side conversation. Just stillness. Attention. And for a brief moment, I watched them watch me.

There’s something tender and strange about seeing your life stitched together in glimpses. We don’t often pause to reflect on the chapters we’ve lived—especially when we’re still writing the current one. Most days, we just keep going. Teaching. Parenting. Healing. Reinventing. We forget how far we’ve come, or how differently we once saw the world.

This small video became a quiet, surprising gift: the chance to remember. To see the path in rewind, and recognize all the different selves I’ve been.

I used to think of life as one long road with a few scenic detours. Now, it feels more like a book—full of chapters. Some short and sweet. Some long and complicated. Some I still revisit, even though I know how they end.

There are chapters I loved writing. Chapters I barely survived. Chapters I hope no one republishes. But they all shaped me.

And every now and then, someone walks into your story and reflects something back you didn’t know was visible. That’s what this student did. He reminded me that our stories matter—not just the ones we craft intentionally, but the ones that shine through in how we show up every day.

Being chosen for a spotlight was an unexpected honor. I hope he got an A—he earned it.

But more than that, I hope he knows what he gave me: a mirror, a pause, and a reminder that even the quiet, unscripted chapters count. Maybe especially those.

Here’s the broadcast, if you’re curious. 💛