The further I get into the writing process with students, the clearer it becomes that the best and most beautiful version of one student’s paper is not the same as the best and most beautiful version of her classmates’ papers — that the beauty to be found there is a complex dance between my assignment and the student’s own emergent voice. When a student really “gets it” — by which I mean not simply that she grasped the course content, but that she found a way to make it her own in writing or in speech (to replicate it on her own terms) — that moment is marked not merely by the satisfaction of an expectation fulfilled. It’s beautiful. It is as if something present but not yet visible in the early versions of the essay has now emerged, full of colors and moving wings — ready to go out into the world. Scarry spends a portion of her book exploring the connection between beauty and greeting; but as a teacher, I often experience the beauty of my students’ writing as a fond farewell.