This morning, as I tiptoed silently down the stairs so as to not disturb Delycia, I thought of the tiptoeing I do as I work among my students each day. These are kids whose lives deserve to not be disturbed – to not be bothered and badgered by a teacher who sometimes doesn’t see anything but his own lesson plans. They come to me, even as young as they are, with a wagonload of worries and fears, and it’s my business, above all, to not add to their anxieties. So I try to tiptoe when I’m teaching. I try to take them down inspiring but peaceful paths. I try to teach lessons that will let them learn in enlivening but lighthearted ways. There’s enough strain and pressure in their young lives. I’m in Room 2 each day to draw them away from uneasiness and show them the contentment that comes from creating a fine paragraph or seeing the inner spirit of a story. Instead of anxiously and loudly, we try to go softly and quietly.