Sierra definitely caught me off guard. 

Sitting at her desk, wearing her yellow bandanna and matching outfit, she seemed to be doing what the rest of us wanted to do—appear put together. 

Who doesn’t want to seem impressive during the first week of school? 

But what I couldn’t see was the broken story she carried deep inside…

As students continued to arrive, the sweet smell of cologne wafted into my classroom. Teenage boys showed off their matching shirts and pants, and the girls sparkled with their perfect hair and done-up smiles. Sierra was one of those sparkling girls.

I tried to sparkle, too. However, I couldn’t do much with the few hairs on my head. But I did iron my white shirt and wear my favorite blue tie.

“Sierra, do you mind standing up?” I asked in front of the class.

Throughout the first week, we had been discussing “listening to life,” a discipline requiring our reflection on the good and the bad in life. 

Sierra sat in the front row, tracking what I was saying with confident brown eyes. Her apparent strength made her the perfect candidate to field a spontaneous question.

She stood up, clearly unfazed by the spotlight.

“Sierra, tell us about something good that’s happened in your life.” 

She looked at me, thinking. The question felt safe enough.

“You could tell us about anything,” I continued, “like something good that happened this summer or even when you were a little girl.”

She looked down at the ground, still thinking while the rest of us waited.

Then, finally, she looked up. And what came out of her mouth stunned everyone.

“I guess,” she said pausing, “when I got out of prison.”

At first, I thought I didn’t hear correctly. What did she just say?!! My mind exploded with questions as shock caused me to freeze in place. She just casually said that like she was describing how to eat a sandwich.

A moment passed, and I just nodded my head, desperate not to give away what I was feeling. She’s just a 15-year-old girl, and already she’s been in prison?

She waited for my response. Then, a genuine, soft smile began to grow on her face. Its warmth melted away the shock. The moment didn’t embarrass her. She was okay with it, and she wanted us to know.

Finally, after a good swallow, I asked a question. “Can you think of anything you learned from that?”

She thought for a moment.

“I guess that I don’t ever want to go back,” she said as a few students chuckled.

When she started walking back to her seat, I stopped her.

“Sierra,” I said, “that took guts to share with all of us. Thank you.”

Everyone applauded, and she smiled again as she sat down.

Two days later, I asked the same class of students to get out their journals. Sierra sat in the front row, still tracking with those confident brown eyes.

“You’re going to be very observant today,” I said, rubbing my hands together like some devious instigator. “Write about one detail you appreciate about one of your classmates.” 

Students looked at each other with awkward giggles, but some still seemed confused. So I offered a little more instruction.

“Maybe you notice Luella’s cookie monster painted nails,” I said, walking toward Luella. 

She smiled, looking at her nails. “Or maybe you notice Jameson’s perfectly matched Rockies shirt and hat.” He shook his head shyly as I moved toward him.

Eventually, everyone was writing, taking sneaky glances.

I walked up and down the aisles, watching them work. After a few minutes, I asked for volunteers to share.

Bella talked about Hailey’s bracelet. Riley shared about Ethan’s sense of humor.

And when it seemed we were done, I tried wrapping it up by asking, “Anyone else?” 

Sylas raised his hand. “Can I share mine?”

“Go for it, Sylas,” I said.

He took a breath and then started reading. “I like this person’s smile and kindness because it shows you can have joy despite past mistakes.”

When he mentioned “mistakes,” Dustin gasped dramatically, putting his hands over his mouth. Everyone looked at Sierra.

Sylas was locked in, still reading his journal. He just kept going, reading about this person’s example and how it inspired him to never give up.

Sierra was looking down at her desk, fidgeting with her notebook.

“Who were you writing about, Sylas?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Sierra,” he said, looking up from his journal.

And then the whole class exploded in “oohs” and “awws.” River put her hands on her head, trying to keep her mind from blowing while Ruben gave Sylas a proud pat on the back.

Finally, Dustin shouted what everyone was thinking. “Ooh, Sylas got some rizz!!” as everyone laughed.

Let me pause for just a moment to clarify the meaning of the word “rizz.” It basically describes a charming person with a knack for attracting the opposite sex.

The students were proud of Sylas for being a “rizzler,” but I saw something else. In the midst of so many people trying to be impressive—trying to wear the right clothes with the right cologne—he was pointing out the beauty in someone who let all that go. 

Sierra had the courage to take off her mask. As a result, she was making our class a safe place to share. She was building community. No amount of cologne or impressive clothing could ever do that.

As the students continued with their sighs and gasps, the bell rang. I looked over at Sierra, glowing in her seat.

“He wrote that about you,” I said.

“I know,” she said, gathering her things. “That’s so sweet!”

Sylas left pretty quickly, probably tired of the spotlight. But Sierra took her time, soaking up the kindness she’d just received. 

That was the last time I saw her in my class. She never returned to school again after that day. I’m not exactly sure where she is right now, but I like to think she’s still savoring that moment Sylas created. The courage he showed is rare. He risked being teased by his friends to help Sierra see herself differently. Sylas saw beauty in her brokenness, and now because of his courage, so does she.

Erin Ahnfeldt, a Christian Educators member, husband, and father, has the great privilege of discussing authors and stories with 130 teenagers in his English classes. He’s also a storyteller who loves writing about the evidence of God's creative handiwork in the pages of our lives. If you’re interested in receiving his honest stories about the struggles and beauty of being a Christian teacher in a public school, check out erinahnfeldt.com.

Sign up here to receive Erin’s stories.