I Already Am!

A sassy little girl rolled her eyes at me as I asked her to do one more thing.

“One day you’re going to be thankful for me,” I quipped.

It was the last day of school before our much deserved holiday break. In the fifteen minutes between P.E. and our whole school Christmas singalong, I’d walked my tiny humans back to our classroom, taught a math minilesson, assessed them, and walked them back to the gym for the festivities. The children took note.

“Work hard! Play hard!” is my mantra. After just over a year with each other, it is a commitment we have made to one another in our learning community. Holiday activities, an early release day schedule, 50% attendance –– the distractions matter not. Absolutely nothing deters me from doing what I was called to do: teach children.

Sometimes the distractions are more nefarious than the ins and outs of working in the context of a public school with innumerable stakeholders who have competing priorities. I learned a long, long time ago that you can be minding your own business, focusing every bit of your energy on doing what is best for the children in your care, and people will still come for you.

Whether it’s divisive politics, racism, insecurity, or something else, it is the nature of human beings who do not choose healing for themselves and as their stance toward others to project their pain. I thank God and therapy every day for the grace that has brought me to a place where I pause to pray for those who choose to, intentionally or not, harm others rather than do the admittedly incredibly hard work of healing toward emotional equilibrium. My own journey has empowered me to frolic in fields of sand spurs.

I am not everyone’s cup of tea. None of us are. But I am especially adept at pushing people to a precipice simply by existing. This hurt my feelings for a lot of my life. I wanted to be liked. Maturity has taught me that it is better to be loved, and even better to love. . .hard.

Tough love pulls us from the dark depths of mediocrity into a wondrous array of possibilities. And so that’s what I do. Whether directly or because of the standards to which I am holding myself, I push little people –– and big ones, too. (And I expect to be pushed!) It’s no surprise to me that it’s the tiny humans who appreciate it the most.

“I already am!” she smiled. “I’ve learned more this year than all the other years of school.”*

*verified by norm-referenced assessments 😉