"I wanna join the marines"

So I was just sitting in the library trying to get work done (writing a scoring rubric for the 80 essays I have to grade), and Ellen, one of Laura's students from that amazing fourth period group, came in and pulled something out of the printer.  It was a print-out of the marine corps logo. 

Now every time I see Ellen in the halls she says "hello" to me; she remembers me from the fall and from the few times I have taught that group this spring.  She's a very friendly, outgoing, athletic seventh grade girl.  Seeing me sitting at one of the library tables working, she grabbed her print-out, turned to me, showed me the logo and said: "This is what I wanna join."

Half-paying attention to her and to my rubric, I said distractedly: "What's that?"

And she said, with a slight hint of justified indignation in her voice (she was, after all, sharing her hopes for the future with me): "I wanna join the marines."

So I closed the lid on my laptop, and I made eye contact and smiled and said: "Tell me about that."

And so she told me about how all of the men in her family--her father, both of her uncles, and her eldest brother--had all been in the army or the Marines.  And then she shook her head a little bit, as though that thought made her cross, and she said: "I want to be the first woman in my family to do that."

And for a millisecond I hesitated, my liberal, pacifist leaning crawling their way up my throat; but I would not let them speak, because they could not speak to this child's dream.  So I said to her, with a subtle and, I hope, genuine smile and said: "Good for you."

And she smiled back, big and earnest and a sunrise.  But before she went away, I said: "Just don't get killed, okay?  Cause that would be really sad."

And she said: "Well, obviously," and was off to her fifth period class.