This Thanksgiving, as I count my blessings and how many additional servings of mashed potatoes I plan to consume, I owe a thank-you to a group of nerds.

Though it's cliche, I consider students and staff at Calvary Day School to be family. Like every family, we have our quirks. And then we have our extra quirky quirks. You know, like the odd uncle at the kids' table kind of 'extra quirky quirks.' For Calvary, the Upper School English Department is the odd uncle at the kids' table.

Their brilliant craziness, however, is exactly why they deserve some recognition. (I would say 'deserve some attention,' but they already get plenty of that by sporting unicorn head masks in the hallway or carrying around monogrammed coffee mugs everywhere. You know who you are.)

Here are seven reasons why I choose to give thanks for Calvary's English Department. (Even if they inadvertently force me to annotate entire books over break):

1. They teach us how to ace our research papers.

Starting with 6th grade English (shoutout to Mrs. T, Mrs. Ecker, and Mrs. Martin), Calvary puts a heavy emphasis on research papers. As grade levels get higher, tolerance for poor writing gets lower. (Which sounds intense but is actually awesome). We know how to conduct research, develop arguments, and put our points into words. I'm always impressed when young alum stop by our English classrooms and talk about how successful they were in writing their first college paper. There is a reason for that!

2. Even though we may kill them with long nights of grading and spelling error headaches.

I've seen the amount of coffee these people drink, though. Even if they don't have actual energy to grade all those papers, at least they have short-lived, caffeinated energy.

3. But I don't even think research papers take up as much time as all the extracurricular opportunities they have organized for us.

From literary journal readings to weekly writing center sessions, this group of teachers doesn't stop at grading papers or reading Hamlet. They coordinate opportunities for us to share stories and works.

4. They're insane. I mean, sane enough (and brilliant enough) to teach but insane enough to relate to a bunch of idiotic teenagers.

We're stupid. They can be smart-stupid. I always know their classes will be engaging. Shakespearian hallway parades, heated debate triangles, and winter wear infomercials are the norm. (Don't even get me started on Oedipus injury reenactments.)

5. Their classrooms are kinda #decorgoals.

William Shakespeare bobbleheads and adorable book banners? Yes, please. Their classrooms have such a chill, modern ambiance. (Unless you're in the room with the screaming teacher and the dilapidated orange chair. In which case, the ambiance is pure insanity. I love it.)

6. And their doors are always open. (Unless we are watching Inception or Hamlet fighting scenes, that is.)

They are always available to talk, chill, or join in on acoustic guitar jam sessions. And, of course, help with research papers.

7. They choose to teach their students the art of communication, whether through analyzing political speeches for rhetorical patterns or trudging through the endless narrative that is Heart of Darkness.

I can't tell you that I've loved every annotation journal deadline (as I work on meeting one now), every Gatsby project, and every Hemingway study. But, I can tell you that these people made most of them bearable... okay, they made them pretty great. These people, who are incredibly talented and intelligent, could be anywhere. They've chosen to teach and mentor us on the art of storytelling. They've given their students a voice through various opportunities and events. They've channeled their craziness into brilliance and their brilliance into the curriculum.

They've not only taught me how to write about Conrad's tone or Hillary's anaphoric diction or Hemingway's early life in Paris. They've taught me how to use language to share my own story and to connect with others through words.

For that, I am very thankful.

(Even more so because they might cringe at the use of 'very.')