because none of us is fucking up like we think we are, is what i'm trying to say

Secret Love


At DREAMERSchool last week we introduced a game called Secret Love.

Everyone was assigned another person to whom they must deliver love notes, gifts, and appreciative gestures- all in the name of spreading a little kindness. The rules specified that it must remain a secret, and it wasn't for a romantic sort of love- just a way to learn how to make new friends feel good. We did it for the bonding.

Internet. IT WAS THE MOST MAGICAL GAME OF MY LIFE.

At first our high-schoolers were all, this is lame and no, I'm not playing. But after a few days and a dollop of encouragement, they got involved. I thought it was cute when this note was slipped under my door one night. BUT THEN IT GOT SO MUCH BETTER.

Walking from the classroom to lunch, magically somebody had made posters that said, ILARIA, YOU ARE AMAZING! along the light fixtures.

At lunch, there was the standard presentation of what the students had made for the website, followed by a montage video of one of the boys, made for him by his secret love to tell him he was quite the guy- a gesture the entire camp could witness, much to his embarrassment and pride.

My colleague went up to our classroom afterwards, and her secret love had moved the A1 presentation board to the middle of the room. He'd written a giant message of thanks for the effort she puts into teaching, with an arrow that said press play. A laptop and been placed beside the poster, enabling her to watch an ode to fabulousness that was admirably well-chosen to bring a tear to her eye.

And then, by the time it came to go to bed, one of the fifteen year-olds found her door had been covered with the lyrics to Bruno Mars' Just The Way You Are, which is pretty much what every girl wants to be told, ever, and I made sure her secret love got extra cheese with lunch the next day because BRAVO, DUDE. BRAVO.

I love a little bit of love.
Want to say something about this post? Talk to me! TwitterFacebook. EmailInstagram. Bloglovin'.
Share:
© superlatively rude | All rights reserved.