As I heard those dreaded words yet again, “Go to the office,” my heart sank, and while everyone watched, I walked out the classroom door and down the hall.

I arrived at the office, and mumbled, “My teacher sent me down here…” It didn’t matter. She already knew, and she told me to take a seat.

The lady at the desk made a call. “Tanner Garton is down here.”

I could almost hear her straining not to add “again.” Then, almost as soon as the call was ended, a door swung open, and there she was, smiling, like the window that lets sun into a dark basement, my elementary school principal, Mrs. Lyons.

She watched me as I walked past her, right into her office. She shut the door behind her as she followed me into the room.

“So,” she said as she placed a basket full of stress balls and other small toys in the middle of the table, “what happened?”

I told her what happened, probably complaining about how it wasn’t my fault, and she didn’t stop me, she just listened. After I’d told her the story about what I’d done and why I had gotten sent down, she could’ve sent me back to my classroom, but she didn’t. She could tell I needed more time to cool off, so she asked me more questions, about my hobbies, my interests, even what I had done over the weekend, I talked for as long as she would allow. It was strange to me that the room I hadn’t wanted to go to, was also the one I didn’t want to leave. Sometimes I stayed in the office until the end of the day, when I’d be forced to leave in order to catch the bus.

The next morning, I’d be there early to help deliver snacks to all of the classrooms that had ordered them, and she’d be there waiting for me in the lunchroom. We’d load the cart with a crate for each classroom, and walk it down the hall delivering a crate to each room, talking the whole way. It always felt like she was my friend more than she was my principal.

Mrs. Lyons, knowing I liked to take things apart to see how they work, and build things, came up with a way to incentivize good behavior. One of the custodians had found an old tool chest in the school’s attic, and instead of getting rid of it, she went through it and offered me the things in it as prizes for good behavior. That might sound strange, but it was exactly what I needed, and there was a noticeable improvement in my behavior, it gave me a goal.

She would also let me carry out small science experiments in her office, such as figuring out what was the best at getting rust off of metal, and she was always as involved and excited to see the results as I was. She taught me to be inquisitive, if there was a thing I wanted to learn, she taught me to go out and learn it. Thank you Mrs. Lyons for helping me become who I am today.