The Adventures of Stan Joaquin

This is the story of Stan Joaquin—that’s me. Some folks prefer "Stan the Man," and a few very honest preschoolers once called me "Sir Straw-Pants." Either way, I’m not your ordinary scarecrow. Most stay where they’re planted, guarding cornfields and watching the seasons turn. But not me. One crisp autumn morning, someone decided I should take a grand tour of every Catholic school in the diocese to discover meaning in the wider world. A quest! It was an ambitious plan, especially for someone without a brain–or joints. But off I went.

At each stop, students greeted me like a celebrity. I saw joyful, bustling hallways and felt a sense of belonging that wrapped around me like twine.

In the classrooms, biology and foreign language kept this old scarecrow standing sharp. Art was certainly my favorite. These teachers really have a knack for bringing out creativity and artistic expression! That’s also where I met my friend Luke. Finally—someone who understood me. We bonded over straw maintenance and our mutual fear of leaf blowers. #bestpalsforever

It was impressive how well-behaved students were, and still, they didn’t make me feel like such a bad guy when I got detention for having no shoes. It’s hard to keep track of footwear when you don’t have feet.

I also learned a bale’s worth about Saints like St. Francis and St. Carlo Acutis. And virtues? Those too–like gratitude, kindness, even self-control, which I practiced heroically during multiple bake sales. All that on top of Mass and prayer throughout the day—my tour was absolutely steeped in faith and holiness.

I tagged along for more than 30 field trips (do you know how dizzy a scarecrow gets on a school bus?) and over 55 community events, from Trunk or Treats to Harvest Festivals to Donuts with Dads (I may still have glaze in my straw). I watched 17 school performances, many starring kids who sang with all the heart and half the pitch. I even made the football team, where I’m fairly certain my presence improved win probability by at least 76%.

Somewhere between all the PE, playgrounds, being promoted to Junior Security Officer, and pie-making, my patchwork came undone. But don’t worry–I’ve been restuffed, re-stitched, and I’m stronger than ever. What really motivated me to pull myself back together, was a growing realization that had been forming along my journey.

It was honoring and serving veterans at a Veterans Day ceremony and helping students sort and deliver over 4,000 pounds of food, 285 additional boxes of non-perishables, and 68 turkeys to families in need that it became clear: these schools don’t just teach service. They live it.

It was about the students who welcomed me like family.
The teachers who showed endless patience and joy.
The communities overflowing with service, prayer, laughter, and compassion.
The harvest of faith, a love of learning, creativity, generosity, resilience and hope happening quietly every day inside Catholic schools.

I came as a scarecrow searching for purpose. I left as a witness to theirs.