Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Jen Hatmaker, It's Your Fault

I've been telling people for years that I would probably die in my classroom. I've been teaching at VHS for all seven of my years as an educator, and in that time, I've been FCA sponsor, NHS sponsor, varsity volleyball coach, JV volleyball coach, a member of what seems like a thousand different committees, department chair, Reflective Friend participant, Forensics coach... I've been all in, y'all.

All in.

Like many of my colleagues, I've brought Pop Tarts for my hungry students and stayed at school until 7 p.m. grading essays. I'm not the only teacher who's stretched thin because of the unrealistic expectations placed on us, the piles of work we're given with little time to complete them, the students we teach who need more than we can give them sometimes...but I digress.

When I got pregnant, I thought about giving up teaching. I prayed and read the Bible and discussed my feelings with my husband daily and prayed some more. In the end, I did not feel peace about quitting.

I'm so glad I didn't.
I'm so glad I returned to teach this year. I want to make that oh-so-crystal clear. Because (no shade) I know there were people who didn't think I would or should return to teaching.

Over the summer, and I think when I was on maternity leave (I honestly don't remember-- all the days/nights blur together), I started reading Jen Hatmaker's book For the Love: Fighting for Grace in a World of Impossible Standards.

And folks, my world was shattered.

Because she said things like, “The trouble is, we have up-close access to women who excel in each individual sphere. With social media and its carefully selected messaging, we see career women killing it, craft moms slaying it, chef moms nailing it, Christian leaders working it. We register their beautiful yards, homemade green chile enchiladas, themed birthday parties, eight-week Bible study series, chore charts, ab routines, '10 Tips for a Happy Marriage,' career best practices, volunteer work, and Family Fun Night ideas. We make note of their achievements, cataloging their successes and observing their talents. Then we combine the best of everything we see, every woman we admire in every genre, and conclude: I should be all of that. It is certifiably insane.”  

Excuse you, Jen. How dare you.
But you're right.

Our society glorifies idolizes women who do it all. And WE create these women in our minds (thanks, social media) and then think we have to be that fictional woman.

I don't want to be that woman. I don't want to do it all. I want to do a few things really well.

So, sure-- I can be a good teacher. And a good mom. And a good wife. I think I've mostly done that this year.
But I want to do fewer things with more breathing room, more love, more passion, and more creativity.

I promised Katherine from day one-- before day one, really-- that I would NEVER choose work over her. And I haven't. I haven't graded papers at home while she's still awake. I've barely done any work at home, if I am being honest.

Tonight, for example, I strapped her into my Lillebaby carrier and walked to Starbucks and talked to her about the balmy breeze in her hair and the golden retriever that barked at her and the stench of fresh mulch in the air. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her blond Randy-hair and looked down at her two-tooth smile as slobber rolled down her chin. She then farted on me, giggled, and said, "Da da da da daaaaaaa." We're still working on "mama," obviously. We checked the mail and witnessed an adult water fight, and I've never been so happy in my entire life.

Why would I choose to grade papers over that? I can't get that moment back. Papers will still be there tomorrow.

I've literally lived my ENTIRE life doing it all and admiring women who do it all. Even in high school. I was always busy. Being busy was...I don't know...a badge of honor. I think some of y'all know what I'm talking about.

I'm done with that. It's not for me. Being busy doesn't mean I'm being productive. Or even successful.

In the spirit of making more time to do things I enjoy, I'm also reading Rachel Hollis's book Girl, Wash Your Face. Jen Hatmaker interviewed Rachel on her For the Love podcast that I listen to when I can. Can you tell I'm really into powerful Christian women lately?

Rachel writes in her book, "Maybe the hardest part of life is just having the courage to try."

I may not die at my desk chair or retire from the school where I started teaching. I may not be doing a thousand things.

But you'd better believe that I'm going to have the courage to try a billion new things. The courage to make myself just...be. Just relax. The courage to invite you into my home for dinner. The courage to finally take calculus and Zumba.

Will I miss teaching? More than you know. It's like I'm leaving a piece of my soul behind at Varina. I'm tearing up just thinking about it.

Will I regret leaving?

Absolutely not.

Thanks, Jen Hatmaker.