23 October 2021
It’s 4:00 A.M. on a Saturday morning. Saturday mornings are usually my favorite time of the week. Not having the responsibility of a family, I can wake up when I want, drink my coffee in peace and quiet, and write until my heart’s content. But this is not that kind of morning.
I woke up thinking of my students: strategies on how to prepare them for the ACT, procedures on handling “do nothing” behavior, and the list goes on and on. What concerns me about them isn’t just where they are in their academics but the responsibility of helping them grow up and live a passionate life.
When I taught middle school students, even in the past few years, I did it with passion. A special education teacher who is now retired even said, “You have so much passion when you teach kids. You are doing what you are meant to do.” This wasn’t someone who complimented anyone very often. I knew she wasn’t flattering me but meant the remark. Her words carried weight, and I hid them in my heart.
This year, my passion to teach has gone from a fiery bonfire and dwindled to embers. Most days I don’t teach with passion. I teach tiredly. The students can see it, and they are responding to that in their academic performance and behavior. My barely ember of a flame is not passing onto their empty torches; they definitely need someone who can.
As Halloween approached, I decided to include a short unit on Edgar Allan Poe. With him being an American writer, it would meet state curriculum standards. It felt like “home,” teaching what I would have taught around this time last year and the many years before that. I realized that the literature I had taught for so long had become a part of me, and I was terribly homesick– homesick for my old school, old friends, literature I taught effortlessly, and missed even the classroom where I had some of my best memories with students.
Maybe my embered passion is a result of the job change. Making a job change has been harder than I anticipated. With “Covid” school, last year came with its challenges. This year seems a lot harder by degrees. I feel like I am in a whirlwind of many responsibilities and that the day doesn’t give me enough time. Maybe it’s the underlying stress of a world gone to shit with the stress of inflation and finances– so many unknowns with the current state of our country. Or maybe it’s the aftermath of recently having Covid. Maybe it is all of the above. My doctor did tell me on a return visit that Covid has caused some to have insomnia and the kind of tiredness that even with much sleep, it will not absolve the issue.
This year, “I’m so tired” has been the most spoken out loud words I’ve said all year and mostly expressed to my students because I see them more than anyone else. I have decided that won’t be my go-to phrase even if I feel it. Words carry so much weight, affecting ourselves and others.
My greatest fear: I don’t want to undo what I have done– the work that has already been laid; whatever my influence was for my students during their 8th grade year, I want to build on that in their junior year.
I could cry… okay, okay…let me rephrase… I could continue to cry, but this will not accomplish anything except for a moment’s outlet of my emotions with no real effective plan for change and forward motion in a productive way.
I could look back on my last year and how great it was even though nothing about it was normal at first. I could look back, wanting what I had last year, but what was there is gone. It is so hard to trust the unknown.
Outside of my job, my focus has been on self-care so that I can unwind and recharge anew each day and week.
I ask myself this question a lot these days: What do I need to do for me today?
Put up part of my Christmas tree (although I already have fall decor around the house) before Halloween? If it cheers me up, yes!
Take a day trip to a town of nature and mountains where nobody knows me, and I don’t know them? If it brings me peace, yes!
Cancel or make NO plans over the weekend? If it brings me much needed rest in mind and body, yes!
Anything to declutter and hear the tune God is playing in my life right now.
I am not utterly discouraged. I feel like these trials are only a short-stop or slow-go to my next destination. I refuse to sit around and dwell on where I feel I fall short at this time in my career (in planning around a new curriculum and course of study, creating new assignments, and my less than best energy level) even though some might set up camp and do that among themselves. I’ve got somewhere to go. I am in between where I was and where I am headed. And it won’t look like what I have ever imagined at any time in my life. With God, it has always been very different than I’d have imagined. He is a God of wonders and surprises. Because that is His nature and He doesn’t change, I welcome what is next: Bring it on, God! Bring my surprises. I will wait for them, cherish them when they come, and breathe easy because tomorrow will bring new challenges and blessings (A mixed bag always!) together, and I choose to embrace all of it! It’s the best way, and it is God’s intended abundant life for me. Life– EVERYTHING that comes with it– is a gift to be treasured. For I cannot know good without the bad; I cannot know love without feeling unloved; I cannot fully embrace blessings if I have not known waiting. I can walk this crazy life with the assurance of One who is unchanging: He has never been against me, and right now His strength sustains me even when mine fails me.
Photo by me (November 2021): I had some of my students from last year come and visit me for lunch. It truly lifted my spirit. I guess the freshman boys were looking for a place or person of familiarity. I will cherish this forever. Some of the girls do visit sometimes, but those groups are a lot smaller than this! (lol) This is the memory I am keeping before me as I walk out this school year and is a reminder of God’s surprises for me.