"Hey, ol' white lady!"

I smile, recognizing the voice of a former 10th grade student of mine, now a senior.I turn and look at him, my hands on my hips, and shake my head. But both of us have big grins on our faces.Thus begins "Fall '09" at Southern High School.

As the halls fill, so does my heart. Hundreds of happy faces swirl around, squealing, hollering, strutting, hugging.We might be miserable later, everyone seems to agree, but today we have FUN!

"Why, KP, I see the years are still being kind to you." A tall, lanky senior leans down and pats me on my head. "And may I say you look especially cute today, barely a day over 80!" His cute, little girlfriend peeks from behind him, grinning. On my last birthday this fellow brought me a fake skull -- he said it made him think of me. I will miss their visits after this year.

Girls go by, calling to one another.Some shout out "Ms. Perron!" or "KP!" stopping to show me their outfits or tell me some news. A few rush into my room and I make a mental note to check my boards when I go in to start class. A girl shouts, "Ms. Perron, why you ain't teachin' English III?" I call back, "Oh, honey, you know I can't take another year of you!" "Oh, Ms. Perron!" Down the hall they go.

Some students are not screamers. They stand nearby, waiting silently to be noticed.Some have something to tell me, others simply smile, enjoying the attention I give them. Like all of us, they are enjoying being a part of the celebration in the halls.

Up and down the hall I see smiling, laughing teachers, shaking hands, receiving hugs.Students dance by, shouting out, "Ima come see you!" and teachers call back to them, "You better!" or "Oh no!" New hairdos are admired, new glasses, bow ties, classy shoes, smart giraffe-pattern purses, funny T-shirts, and a bit of the latest dance steps, too.The administrators join in, big smiles for everyone, making sure to recognize new students, calling out directions and reminders to those passing by.

"Grandma!" I hear, as a quarrel erupts over whose grandma I am.I pass out hugs, as the crowd around me giggles and cracks jokes. My cute little gal from Panama is there, a senior at last.She started the grandma thing two years ago, and even put her name in my cell phone, so when she occasionally texts me, it pops up "Grand daughter." We all laugh because I am now surrounded by white, African American and Latino kids, all insisting I am their grandmother.

A loud "White Grandma!" rings out over our heads and I am smothered in a big hug as a beloved knucklehead claims me. Last year, he kept us all laughing by constantly insisting that he is actually white, when in fact he is quite dark, but this year he's already chasing after our Latino gals and spouting undying devotion in Spanish.They have carried on all summer on Facebook.The girls banter back and forth with him, shrieking with laughter.

Now I am hugging a group of my dear amigos and amigas and meeting new cousins, exclaiming, "Mucho gusto!" "She likes to say that," they explain, and it's true; I do. I hug a girl and whisper in her ear that I will be watching her this year.She smiles at me and we laugh together. She hugs me back and runs off to class, her beautiful dark hair swinging as she runs.The tardy bell is ringing. The halls are emptying.

I turn to my new classes and my newly decorated class room, my heart full of love and laughter."Could anyone have a better job than me?" I wonder to myself.I think not.Mucho gusto!