Five weeks to go. And only three more Mondays, since today is checked off and Memorial Day rules one Monday out. Makes it seem a little more attainable. A little more real. A little more sobering. Our tendency during times like this is to grit our teeth, clinch our fists, and dive into survival mode as we eagerly count down the days. Nothing wrong with counting down the days, but trials (and the last five weeks of school definitely qualify as a trial in my book) are wasted if we spend them doing nothing more than anxiously waiting for them to be over. If it is true that every trial is God’s mercy in disguise (loving Laura Story’s new—new to me at least—song, Blessings) and is handcrafted for us to better know glorify God as we are conformed to Christ’s image through it, then the last leg of teaching is no exception. I still have a job to do, and to do with excellence, regardless of whether summer is knocking on my door or not. I still have kids to show and model Christ’s love to. Still have tedious documentation and grading to finish, still have required lessons to plan and carry out, all with an attitude that pleases God. No cutting corners. No matter how obnoxious and rowdy the kids become. No matter how tired and cranky I am. That kind of obedience is radical, and certainly not natural for Miss Moore or for any other teacher you may know. Pray for us! A lot!
And all this without going insane.
So how am I keeping my sanity?
First, it seems cliché, but with a lot of prayer. All day. From the time I’m driving to work in my car to the time the bell rings, and long after that, when I’m still in my room grading papers or filling out endless paperwork. Many days (more than I care to admit) go by when this is not the case, when I leave my prayers in the car and don’t utter a word to the Lord all day. But those days are always miserable, and remind me of my utter dependency on Him and utter helplesness to do anything, and be anywhere close to a good teacher, apart from His constant guidance and grace.
Next, by laughing. A lot. Every morning during Calendar Time I have one goal: to get the kids laughing as much as possible. If I accomplish my goal (usually through silly voices or dancing, but sometimes I get pretty creative), I’ve got the kids full, enraptured attention for hours on end. It’s amazing. The harder we laugh, the more we learn, and the better we get along. If I come in with a bad attitude, so do the kids. I hold the key. Not a very pleasant thought, but one that reminds me that my ability as a clown is just about, if not more, important than all the clever lesson planning and use of technology in the world.
And last but not least, by teaching them things that aren’t anywhere in the curriculum, only in my heart. The kids sense that it comes from Miss Moore, not the district curriculum, and they know it must be worth learning.
Things like how to ask forgiveness (something I wish someone had taught me, really taught me, as a child, something that I’m just now learning and mostly failing at), and how to receive it graciously, and how to treat ladies with respect. Every day this week and last we’ve been taking our little plants out to water them (in the water fountain, of course… very high tech, I know) and give them sunlight, and every day last week the boys all but trampled the girls on their way back into the building. So I took the opportunity to teach them what the word gentleman means, and how gentlemen should treat ladies. Now, the boys stand up straight and tall, with a giddy smile on their faces, as they let the ladies pass by. They fight each other over who gets to hold the door open for the girls. And they practically clobber any boy who dares go through a door at the same time a young lady is trying to enter. And I’m teaching the ladies how to respond to such acts of gentlemanly service. A sweet chorus of “Thank you’s” now drones out the “Hey, you’re cutting me!’s” that used to characterize our line. It’s not politically correct by any means, but it makes for a very happy teacher who can only hope that they will remember what it means to be a gentleman and to show acts of kindness to others long after they’ve forgotten what our word wall words and spelling patterns were.
And that’s what being a teacher is all about. It’s so easy to forget.
