Wednesday, June 4, 2014

YOU Are the Best Part of Teaching

It's hard to say goodbye to 51 kids who each have a piece of my heart. As promised, here's this year's letter, which all of my seniors receive (along with a handwritten note on the back...the personal touch is important, I think):
 
Dear Senior of 2014,

Last year, I ended the year thinking that teaching could not get any better.

You all proved me wrong.

This year, you have made teaching (mostly) enjoyable and never boring, whether it was because of your inappropriately timed dance moves, tendency to wear clothing that I just don’t understand (why are grandma pants back in style?), or ability to get me to laugh even when I was trying to be mad at you. I feel like the luckiest teacher in the county, no lie.

Every year I teach, I get older and further removed from being in high school, and sometimes I forget what it felt like to be in your shoes. I forget that you’re fragile yet strong, full of potential, and simply longing to be taken seriously, listened to, and accepted.  I forget that there is much more to you than meets the eye. There have been many times this year when I have found myself being humbled by each of you, and I have grown because of you.

Despite the fact that we’ve had our differences sometimes, I hope you feel, as I do, that we have some sort of relationship and have been able to talk one-on-one, whether it’s verbally or through your journals. You are important to me, even if you think I don’t see you, even if you’re quiet and fly under the radar, and even if you’re loud and kind of obnoxious a times. You are important, you are valued, and you are loved. I often leave school thinking there is no way I can possibly give you everything that you deserve as a student (hopefully, you can forgive me for my shortcomings). You should to be told that you are capable. You deserve to be pushed. You should to be told that you have the power to create a life you want, if you work hard and don’t just expect to be entitled to success. You should have people who will let you grow into adulthood, who will let you make mistakes and still love you for it, and who will bring out the best in you. As you enter the “real world,” if we can call it that, I have a few thoughts to share, things I wish someone had told me when I bebopped off to college at 17 years old.  

The first is to treat everyone you meet with kindness and to look for the good in people. You never know what someone else is battling. If you are always looking for flaws in others, you will find them, and you will harbor bitterness and likely have a pessimistic view of the world. As John Lubbock said, “What we see is what we mainly look for.” So, look for the positives.

The second thought I wish to leave you with is this: real life is MUCH like high school. I had this grand idea that when I left high school, there’d be no more cliques, no more immaturity, and no more judgment. This simply is not true; these are all manifestations of human nature. The best thing I’ve done is learn to accept it and deal with it by looking for the good qualities in people and remembering that wasting time on drama is just that: a waste.

Finally, I wish I’d known that it’s ok to have no idea what you’re doing with the rest of your life. Is it good to have goals? Absolutely. Is it necessary to know at 17 and 18 years old exactly what you’re going to major in and what you’re going to do for the next 30 years? No way!  Find what you love and do it. Make sacrifices and work hard. Short term sacrifices lead to long term rewards. Make new friends, help others in need, and travel to new places. Don’t be mean to cats and do read a book occasionally. And please…do stay in touch over the years and let me know how you’re doing. I can’t wait to hear about all the amazing success you’re going to experience!  

At the beginning of the year, you were just a name on a roster. Now, however, you are one of my kids, and you’ll always hold a very special place in my heart. If you have learned nothing else from my class this year, I hope and pray you have learned that you will always have an old high school English teacher who is in your corner, rooting for you and believing in you. YOU make every unpleasant aspect of this job SO VERY WORTH IT. You are the best part of my job. Thank you for blessing me.

I wish you all the best on your journey through life. May you find joy in the simple, clarity in the complex, strength in the storms, and contentment in the every day. May you surround yourself with people who will value you, inspire you, encourage you, and challenge you. May you never take one day for granted, and may you always remember that you are loved. May the odds be ever in your favor.

 

Best wishes always,

Mrs. S.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

The Big Announcement


I'm pregnant. I've never broken a bone. I've never had a cavity.
One of those is a lie. The first one. I am definitely not pregnant.
Here's the big news, y'all: I do not want kids.
At least not right now.
Everyone else is becoming parents, it seems, friends from high school and college and beyond. There are adorable, squishy babies everywhere. Creative pregnancy announcements and gender reveal announcements and maternity pictures inundate my Facebook feed and Instagram.
I know being a mom is amazing and also tougher than most people can imagine. Motherhood is a calling, a ministry, a full-time job in and of itself; it requires sacrifice and dedication and sleepless nights. Moms tell me it's so worth it, and I believe them. I have so much respect and admiration for moms.
But I also know that I am not ready yet.
And I think that’s ok.

As the hubby and I approach our four-year anniversary, I find more and more people (friends, students, acquaintances, random people) asking me, “So, when are y’all going to have kids?” And the truth is, that's a normal question to ask married couples in our society.  Another truth: that decision is kind of between us. I'm not offended when close friends ask, of course. I just think people should remember that reproductive decisions are private.

I'm going to be real for a minute here: the reason I don't want kids right now is purely selfish. I love coming home to a quiet house, eating dinner sitting down and with two hands, and going on dates with my husband whenever I want. I love being in grad school and having the freedom to get to school at 7 a.m. and stay until 7 p.m. if I need or want to. I an cherishing my freedom.

I am not ready to give all that up. I'm just...I'm not. Does that make me less of a woman or a bad person? Nah. It just makes me honest and aware that I'm not ready yet.

So there's the big announcement, for the many people who've been wondering.