There are nights when my mattress feels the full weight of all that I carry around in a day. Most days, more often than not, the activities in room 113 are lively, interactive, thought provoking, silly, educational, and inspiring. Most days, my chosen occupation leaves me feeling equal parts sastisfied and challenged, a worthy yet ironic match against the memory-foam. Yet today, at the end of a particulary long four-day week entering a four-day weekend, I was inclined to think my pillows might very well recieve a few remnant tears of frustration; my own reflections/doubts on my effectiveness as an educator in question, there is no better place I can think of to let my shaky feelings seek refuge. Perhaps it's the end-of-the-year pressures that I've let take a toll. Or 16 year old hormonal attitudes. Or state-mandated data entry that somehow depicts my 'effectiveness' as a teacher. Or the hole that my glorious seniors are leaving as they forge off into their own exciting futures. Or . . . But then this video popped up in my mailbox and I was again reminded of why I love what I do. Their graduation and prom pictures take a place of precedence on my fridge; their Letters of Affirmation grace the pages of a memory book; their stories of triumph and success (both in and out of the classroom) reinforce my belief that I do indeed, have the best job on the planet. Even in the midst of a touch of self-doubt, they are the ones that keep me focused, grateful, and grounded. I can sleep a little more deeply tonight knowing that what I do has had a profound impact on them; but perhaps even grater, is the influence they've had on me.
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this year, it passed by without much fanfare. no major party or celebration. i didn't feel the need for that. instead, just a quiet realization of how far I've come. simple appreciation for the beauty of the everyday. just thankful that life looks so very good, this side of the tree. 6 years later and i am more grateful, more grounded, more me. Recently, I had a conversation with an acquaintance about TV, where it came out that I don't own one (happily so, I might add). Now, that's not to say I don't watch it ever... because lately I can't seem to get enough of Downton Abbey (never-mind that I've seriously contemplated sending viewer hate-mail to writer Julian Fellows for his Season 3 wretched cliffhanger ending), or Nicole Curtis' Rehab Addict DIY program (to which I am seriously addicted). But the response that I was met with was that not owning a Television is akin to being non-American!
Imagine that. A few years back, someone suggested that I get a FACEBOOK account. My strong refusal was based on the following: too much to keep up with, too much personal information going around for anyone to see; lack of privacy; idiotic status updates that I don't really care about. etc. But then my 82 year old grandfather got in on this latest technology craze, relishing his newfound connect-ability to his friends and family ~ so I created an alias (being a public school teacher and all) and will admit that it certainly has given me enjoyment. My cousin posts pic's of her boys whom I don't see often enough; I message my Spain families regularly so I don't miss them so much, and what would I do without FB's ability to let me access Pinterest?!?!! However, there's something about being so attached to technology ~ despite all of it's wonderful advances and benefits ~ that leaves me feeling increasingly, as though I don't have much control. The iphone, as an example, illustrates this beautifully. I need to figure out my tip: there's an App for that! (and my already shaky math skills are underutilized). I need directions: there's an App for that! (and my ability to interpret a map is diminished). I'm bored: there's a million App's for that! (Angry Birds, Temple Run, Paper Toss, Ant Smasher, Brostache - 'nough said). So it is with great embarrassment that I admit this here (and yes, I recognize the irony) on a public forum: my curiosity got the better of me and I did a little FB Creepin'. Now, this wouldn't be so terrible if my smartphone didn't take it a step further. Because you see, I have a touch screen which just happens to be oh-so-sensitive and 'likes' other people's photos, completely unbeknownst to me. So in a moment of sheer horror, I realized that there is someone who I don't know, but of whose pictures apparently I am in favor. Thankfully, there is an unlike button (which I speedily utilized) but I'm fearful the damage has already been done. So in keeping with my trend of staying "un-American" just a tad longer, and because it's quite clear that I don't know what I'm doing: iphone Facebook App ~ goodbye for now. You cause enough unwanted DRAMA due to your smart and intelligent capabilities that have left me feeling enough embarrassment for a long while. I'm regaining my sense of control by getting rid of you for an undetermined amount of time. Lesson learned. E.J. is the kind of student one encounters every so often . . . she is a marvelous combination of silly yet serious, driven yet flexible, kindhearted and helpful, with a side of spicy thrown in to the mix for good measure. And the crazy thing is, she gets me. It's as though we have the same mind sometimes, as displayed by the uncanny ability to often finish eachother's sentences. After three years of shared classes and experiences, I now consider this student my friend . . . and I've come to depend on her stability and joyful nature on a daily basis. What will I ever do when she graduates and moves on to find her place in the open wide world? I asked her for her perspective ~ on anything really ~ and she graciously offered this. So, from my sweet yet saucy E.J., a guest post for today. To exist is to be there. Being there doesn't take much effort. To live, on the other hand, is to make a change. To live is to be the best you that you can be. Sure, it sounds dumb to say that there is a difference between living and existing but it's true. Tell me this: How do you feel after you realized you spent an entire day accomplishing absolutely nothing? Now ask yourself this: How could I fill my time to make a positive difference in the world? To change the world, you can start small. Most people don't try because they don't think one person can make a difference. False. Sometimes, happiness is like the domino effect. One kind thing turns into a flood of kind things. So here is the truth: To exist is easy. To live is more difficult but completely worth it As an educator, I face a daily challenge of remaining connected, current, and inspired; this wouldn't seem all so difficult if I weren't then required to pass along my unearthed knowledge, interest, and illumination to my students. I confess, if it were up to me, I'd sometimes like nothing more than to spend my days reading, writing, gathering nuggets of personal fascination, and then quietly contemplating it all; or to merely hop on a plane and deposit myself in Spain for an undetermined amount of time, for it is there that the world really comes alive for me. And therein lies the conundrum. If I take this job seriously, my responsibility is to put aside some of my own longings for discovery and watch them morph and grow without necessarily escaping the daily grind or trying too hard.
So, the real task of exploration takes on a new form of inspiration when I receive encouragement and insight from the kids who I happen to have the privilege of journeying through life with on a daily basis in Room 113. Eleventh Grader Logan has stepped out as a leader in so many ways this last trimester ~ I recognized it early on, but wasn't so sure his classmates did, or even if he did himself. But I was gladly mistaken. I've come to depend on his steady demeanor, cheerful disposition, and kindness to others ~ and he has taken to the task with real dedication and determination. After a trimester of joint discovery, he sent me this link, which I feel compelled to share here. Because the wonder of it all is that in this profession (and in life) we have responsibility to each other ~ to ensure that we don't feel alone, that we matter, that we are important. That we remain connected. Once again, I'm left believing the best out of my students, wanting the best for them presently, and hoping for their bright and beautiful future. . . . and after all that remains, the greatest is love.
Is it really this simple? To me, this love feeling has always seemed more complex, profound: I hear their little two-and-a-half-year-old voices and something inside me melts. I read her novels and something within me burns. I see a profile and something from way beyond triggers a flutter I don't quite know how to interpret. I hold familiar hands and I know. I remember . . . once. Something that resonates home. I lift my open palms upward and am filled. Simple . . . I think it must be. "Certain thoughts are prayers. I've been reticent to comment ~ to put into writing what I've felt about this latest tragedy that has so altered my perception. Mere words seem insufficient. Hollow.
How do I respond, as a teacher, a friend, an American Citizen? This feels so much larger than a dialogue or national conversation on gun control, mental health, or school climate, as I've heard discussed over the airwaves recently. This feels like an attack on the heart. Both figuratively and literally. A war against life itself. Victoria Soto, Lauren Rousseau, Dawn Hochsprung, Mary Sherlach, Ann Marie Murphy, Rachel D'Avino and so many other educators embody courage and selflessness that I can only hope for. Their bravery is beautifully challenging; I somehow feel indebted to them, these sisters of strength and sacrifice. Their heroism compells me to want to live unafraid, yet with my soul on its knees. I needed this today - a bit of encouragement - a bit of a pep-talk -
I want to continue to walk down the path that leads to awesome - even when that road has a couple of rocks, thorns, and glass on the way. I desire to keep dreaming I have a reason to DANCE! My song is love Love to the loveless shown And it goes on You don't have to be alone You don't have to be on your own ~ Message ~ Coldplay Students ~
Would that you knew just how much you are loved, cherished, valued, important. Would that I could spare you grief, tears, sadness, loneliness. Would that you believed in living the best possible life ~ free of the pressures to be perfect; comfortable and secure with who you are. Just you - beautiful, wonderful, fabulous, unique, lovely YOU ~ simply you. Would that we could simply live by these three simple yet profound words . . . I LOVE YOU . . . Would that we could really mean them, truly believe them. Would that they could change the world. Anniversaries can be bittersweet events. Often, they mark life's memorable moments, as in years of marriage, adoptions, years served in a particular profession, or the loss of a loved one. For me, March 16 is more than just a date on the calendar. It is a way for me to say THANK YOU for breath, life, joy, struggle, pain, beauty, and a body that has healed remarkably well despite the trauma that it endured.
Because this date reminds me that my life got interrupted by an automobile accident that should have proved fatal, but didn't. It gives me an occasion to pause and be mindful of how much I've lost and even more, what I've gained. A few years back, I decided to visit the place where it seems Heaven crashed into Earth. The tree is still there, strong as ever, yet with a decidedly ugly gash about 4 feet off the ground. In fact, so are small bits of plastic and glass left over from the impact. And yet. Upon further inspection at it's base, tiny buds of something beautiful poke their heads toward the sun. Impatiens capensi is their latin name. They sway delicately on their stalks, threatening to get trampled under foot. But their name somehow offers them protection from such an outcome, as they are generally referred to as 'touch-me-not' flowers. I take great comfort in this ~ that even out wreckage and destruction, something beautiful has found a way to grow instead. My life was spared, and the things I've lost needed to die at the foot of that tree. But what has grown over the last five years in my heart is a greater sense of compassion, kindness, warmth, understanding. A greater appreciation for what truly matters. I needed to let go of some things in my life in order for more beauty to take root, grow, and flourish in their place. A pastor once spoke the following benediction . . . it is meant for me; it is meant for all of us. “May you accept the past for what it is. May you celebrate what needs to be celebrated and grieve what needs to be grieved and then, may you receive from God a new spirit, one for here, now, today.” |
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