As my students enter my classroom each day, I try to keep in mind that they carry countless unseen engines inside them, engines that silently furnish more force than winds across the countryside. Some of these engines are physical, for sure, like their loyal hearts and lungs, but the ones I love are the silent machines that make beliefs and inspirations by the thousands. It’s as if the students, as they sit quietly before me, are inwardly moving around in whirlwind ways as ideas dance in and out of their lives. It’s these inner, silent forces that move their lives ever forward. Their hearts help their blood and bones be full of life, but it’s the thoughts they think that steer their young lives and show them new, wide-open doors almost daily. Beliefs and brainstorms by the hundreds are starting up each second in my classes. I often feel like I’m in the midst of a strong, voiceless storm as I move among the kids -- a good storm to watch and wonder at.