But this year, there is something sinister in the phrase. Once a Hoggatteer, always a Hoggatteer. Just six months ago, we learned that a former student's older brother lost his life. We've certainly dealth with our share of family deaths through the years - a grandparent, a mother, a dad - but no one at the age of 10 should lose a brother. I wonder if OAHAAH means very much when such occurs.
At the same time, in December, another former student was arrested for allegedly being involved in a knife attack. What does OAHAAH mean to a kid sitting in a holding cell with his head in his hands? What does it mean to a kid who's lost and angry at the world? Can a kid find his way back to center?
And just this past Thursday, I saw that the Joplin Police are looking for another former student - a 15-year-old girl who showed much promise when she sat in my classroom, now considered a runaway. We can only pray that she finds her way back, as well. In an ideal world, something I said five years ago would trigger a thought in her mind that helps her face whatever she's running away from (or put off whatever she's running toward).
[Update: the 15-year-old has been located and is no longer missing.]
I don't pretend to understand which direction is up for these kids. I don't understand the things that set them up for chasing such lives. I can only whisper to them from the corner of my house, "Once a Hoggatteer, always a Hoggatteer," and hope for the best.
If you've ever been in my class, please remember - in your darkest moments - that you have people who can get you the help you need. It may not be easy for you, and it might even be painful for a while, but we can find intelligent people who can turn over rocks to help you find yourself. You won't solve your problems by seeking darkness, befriending wolves, or hiding from your demons. Please come home, touch base, and stop running.