"Stacy told me," one of my students remarked the other day.
"Who's Stacy?" asked the kid next to him. I was curious, too. I know of no Stacys in our school.
"Oh," the first boy shrugged, "she's my moral compass. Always has been."
"What?" said the other kid.
"She's the voice in my head that tells me right from wrong," explained his classmate. "Everybody has one. Mine's just named Stacy."
I looked carefully at him to see if he was joking. He didn't seem to be, and neither did he seem the least bit self-conscious about revealing this detail of his life.
"Why?" asked the second student. "Why 'Stacy'?"
"I don't know, she just is," answered the other kid. "She's an adult with two children of her own, so she has a good idea about what I should do."
The student next to him nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation, and went back to his writing.
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