Category: students

What it says about me

What it says about me

The inner response I have to the actions of another has more to say about me than the other person. I think I came to this realization over the past couple of days and, like many realizations, was a bit disappointing to me even as it was illuminating. It would be far more preferable for the poor behavior or actions of the other to simply be an indictment of their own wavering character or their imperfections. I would feel far better if my students attitudes were able to remain just that and entirely removed from me.

However, in the course of wrestling with the rather petty and immature responses of teens this week, I have come to see that what is awakened in me is, unfortunately, saying something about me and is, generally, the only thing I can deal with in the present. Sure, this student was being intentionally disrespectful, but the disproportionate anger I felt inside was something which surprised me. And it is the only thing I can really, authentically engage with, despite the fact that as a teacher a list of corrections or punishments towards the student could be utilized.

With this realization in mind, I looked at how I had internally responded to the situation. It wasn’t necessarily what I did, but there is a certain truth in our private knee-jerk reactions or what rolls around in our heads when dealing with a troublesome issue. It made me a bit uncomfortable to see what arose when I was challenged, provoked, and dismissed. Then recently in class, I found myself projecting a Scripture passage on the screen for prayer time and my eyes and heart kept catching on, “When he was insulted, he returned no insult. When he was made to suffer, he did not counter with threats.” (1 Peter 2)

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Aim Higher

Aim Higher

For a while I would joke that I don’t pray for humility as a teacher because it comes to me whether I pray for it or not. And yet, just to prove that life isn’t always as humbling as I may need, the Lord decided to show me that when I pray for things (mostly, it seems, humility) that He delivers what I need, albeit not in the way I want.

On Ash Wednesday, I was listening to a Lenten reflection and prayed along to the Litany of Humility. It is a prayer I love and hate and, probably, need to pray more often. Right on cue, the Lord delivered a humbling situation the following day. A student was giving unsolicited advice about how I might improve his life by not assigning study guides or making him work on it (instead of the math homework he found more pressing) during my class period. I listened for a while, attempting initially to get him to understand that while he might not need it, there are other students who do. The conversation concluded when I recommended that perhaps he pursue a career in teaching since he would be able to be the perfect teacher for students. He, clueless perhaps to the implications because he isn’t really that cruel, commented that he didn’t want to be a teacher but was going to “aim higher.”

I sat there for a moment as a lighthearted moment grew sour.

He didn’t want to be a teacher (which I didn’t really expect to be the deep desire of his heart), but he wanted to “aim higher.”

And it was humbling.

I remembered, annoyed, that just the previous evening I had prayed the Litany of Humility. This is why I don’t pray that prayer, I thought, as I pondered what to do in the wake of a fifteen year old boy telling me my current career choice was way below what he hoped for himself. I sat there at my desk, pride bristling, wanting to offer one of a thousand caustic barbs barreling to the front of my mind. But I didn’t say any of them as I thought, But this probably why I need to pray this prayer more often.

If I were humble, I wouldn’t be annoyed by the careless words of a teenager. I wouldn’t want to offer a bit of my sharpened tongue. I wouldn’t, as a small form of revenge, sidestep answering a question he had on the study guide he just complained about yet which I had thoughtfully crafted as a way to help my students be successful.

And yet I all of these things happened. I was annoyed, I wanted to offer a biting word, and I chose not to give a straight answer to his question.

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Invincible Patience

Invincible Patience

“O God, strength of those who hope in you, who willed that the Bishop Saint John Chrysostom should be illustrious by his wonderful eloquence and his experience of suffering, grant us, we pray, that, instructed by his teachings, we may be strengthened through the example of his invincible patience.”
(Collect from the liturgy for St. John Chrysostom)

As a teacher about a month into an academic year, I was immediately drawn to the line regarding the “invincible patience” of St. John Chrysostom. A gentle patience which cannot be overcome by the antics of teens, by the sudden zipped lips when a question is asked, by the attitude which can flow at the most unfortunate moments. I need that. I need a patience which goes far beyond what I naturally possess.

This year, I have some class periods where we get along pretty well, some where we are fine but not overly close, and one which will require some ‘invincible patience’ on my part. It isn’t that they are bad. In fact, on the first day, I walked into my room at the bell and they all sat completely silent in their seats. This silence, initially humorous and perhaps a little welcomed, soon became a source of tension. It becomes a real burden to have class lectures/discussions when no one will volunteer to answer anything.

Yet, despite my dislike for the situation, I can see that this could be the start of some needed growth within. I have found that when confronting their silence, or their disinterest, or the refusal to participate I have a hardness that arises in my heart. I want to be strict and tough. When they sit there, annoyed at me or annoyed at the reality of school, I want to layer on the sarcasm and I want to angrily cold-call students, refusing to relent when they squirm.

Instead, I have been trying to be intentionally gentle when the fallen part of me wants fiery justice. When they give me zero energy in the classroom, I have been striving to be unfazed, carrying on notes with gusto (for me, gusto for me), calling on students with a smile (instead of the grimace I feel within), and offering more energy than I feel at that point in the day with their attitudes. I was proud of myself for gently coaching a student through a question when this student has shown a bit of an unsavory attitude in previous days. When completing a group activity competition, I let myself encourage the group that I naturally felt most inclined to root against, taking their engagement with the activity as a good sign of things to come.

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A Life-Giving Intentionality

A Life-Giving Intentionality

In the first few weeks of school, I find myself swinging between this isn’t that bad and then suddenly falling into I’m not sure I can do this for an entire semester or an entire year. What I keep returning to is the knowledge that this year, perhaps more than ever, needs to be filled with intentional work-life balance and an abundance of good, life-giving things for me. It is always the desire and goal each year for those things to have a critical place and yet this year I think they need to be a desire turned into reality.

With everyone masked, I find myself trying to guess more and more what my students are thinking or how they are receiving the information presented. Not every student gives away their inner thoughts on their faces, but it certainly helps me know more about what is happening internally when I have an entire face to view and not simply a set of eyes.

I realize the same is true for them, too, when I re-watch videos of me teaching and I see how crucial the facial expressions were for the lesson. I don’t claim to have the most interesting face, friends, but the whole face is incredibly helpful when lecturing. Even though I was raised by a man who disciplined with his eyebrows, I cannot convey every emotion purely through raising or lowering my eyebrows. I attribute at least part of my excessive tiredness to this COVID-induced reality.

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When They Say Thank You

When They Say Thank You

When it comes to “love languages,” I believe quality time is one of the top ones for me to give and receive. Words of affirmation, however, are not very easy for me to give and while I don’t mind/like to receive them, they don’t top the simple gift of spending time with someone.

The exception for this might come with students.

Over the course of teaching, I have had some very grateful students. Students who would thank me daily as they left the classroom or who wrote a nice Christmas card or who simply wrote my name down in their weekly journal under the list of three things they were thankful for that week. Sweet and considerate, some students will even apologize for the bad behavior of other students.

Generally speaking, however, teenagers are not the most grateful human beings. They are prone to complain when school involves schoolwork or when assignments have a due date. Things they cannot change, things that are pretty reasonable, and things that are simply a course of life are all fodder for criticism or complaints. Writing in complete sentences is even viewed as a form of punishment instead of a basic habit of the literate. The longer I teach, the more I am open to their feedback while also aware that essentially never will all students be pleased at the exact same time.

Knowing this, it makes the compliments all the more sweet when they arrive, which is perhaps part of the genius of the teenager. Since my position as a teacher is at times compared to that of a jailer or a dictator, when I hear specific words of gratitude from students, it means far more than they could possibly know. Knowing that 98% of the time I won’t be thanked makes the other 2% really sweet. I don’t think teaching is the only job where it seems like the people you work most closely with are the least grateful, but it is the job with which I have the most experience.

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Peace Not From the World

Peace Not From the World

Peace is my farewell to you, my peace is my gift to you; I do not give it to you as the world gives peace. Do not be distressed or fearful.

John 14:27

I feel obliged to keep somewhat informed about the spread of COVID-19 (the coronavirus) and as I was looking on a news website, I saw a link that said “Should I be panicking?” My students, naturally, are buzzing with news about the spreading virus and beneath the nervous excitement, some are truly concerned about getting sick. It is understand that fear should start to set in when it seems like very little time passes between various people mentioning something else about the coronavirus.

Apart from practical common sense attempts to not get sick, there isn’t much I can do. Yet similar to how listening endlessly to political news reports can fill me with unrest, countless stories and updates about the virus can begin to make me stressed. Jesus, despite showing concern for the poor and the suffering, doesn’t want us to be pools of despair, overcome with anxiety and worry about what may happen. We have an intellect that we ought to use, but He doesn’t want us to be frozen in isolating fear. Christ came to set us free, even from the slavery to fear.

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Two Bearers of Hope

Two Bearers of Hope

So often I find that when I am teaching my students, I am actually teaching myself. I listen to the words come out of my mouth and find that I am convicted to live in a new way. It isn’t as though I talk about the Gospel and the Lord all day long and pat myself on the back. Rather, I find myself over and over having to admit that I am falling short of living the Good News fully.

One of my classes is finishing up a section on martyrs. They researched fairly recent martyrs with most of them living at some point during the 1900s. Then I showed two videos from Chris Stefanick about two priests who lived boldly during times of war. One priest was Fr. Emil Kapaun and the other was Fr. Vincent Capodanno, both of whom are at various stages of the canonization process.

Each video revealed how these men offered hope in situations that seemed hopeless. Fr. Kapaun became a POW during the Korean War and Fr. Capodanno died in a battle in the Vietnam War. In spite of persecution, Fr. Kapaun encouraged the men, leading them in prayer and risking his own safety to help them survive. As a war raged, Fr. Capodanno ran across the battlefield, offering last rites to wounded soldiers and bringing tangible peace with his presence and words. Their ability to provide hope in war changed the people they encountered. For some, it saved their lives and for others, it brought a calm in the midst of the storm.

As we reflected on these priests in class, I found myself inviting them (and by extension myself) to be hope-bearers in this world. High school can be such a difficult place for them, but the frustrations they experience are often carried into life beyond high school. What if they were people that others found hope in? What if we were able to provide a calm in the midst of the storm? A battle rages around us: wouldn’t it be beautiful if others found a place to rest when they were in our presence?

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There Is Always Hope

There Is Always Hope

I don’t recall exactly what it was about. During parent teacher conferences, I spoke with a parent and it was either about the grade, the student’s faith, or something, but whatever it was, the parent ended with, “So there’s hope?” And I, filled with a conviction that stretched beyond the moment, replied, “Yes. There is always hope.”

I felt the weight of that truth in the moment after the parent left.

Always. Hope endures despite all difficulties.

For someone who often skews toward pessimism, it is helpful to remember that hope persists, even when it seems illogical. I mean, we worship a God who rose from the dead after three days. He chose the most unlikely people to pass on the faith, who continually misunderstood Jesus and ran away when scared. Yet this Church still lasts. In spite of corrupt popes, Church scandals, intense persecutions, harsh dictatorships, and every other difficulty, we see that life can still burst forth from death just as the frozen ground will one day again yield to the gentle strength of new flowers.

The other day in class, I found myself saying, “Death isn’t the worst thing.” For me, it was obvious that this was true. I spent much of my first year of teaching hoping for death. Not in a morbid or depressed way. Rather, I was thoroughly convinced of the glory of the Beatific Vision and I was also thoroughly convinced that I wasn’t yet experiencing it in a room filled with angsty, complaint-filled teens.

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Salt and Light

Salt and Light

This past Sunday, the Gospel spoke of how we ought to be the salt and light the world needs. It concluded with this line:

Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.

Matthew 5:16

After we read it in class, we spent time on Friday discussing it. Near the end of our conversation, I pointed to the reaction that we should desire from others. As we strive to live as salt and light, we should desire that people give praise to God for what they see instead of praising us.

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Is the Good News Good?

Is the Good News Good?

St. Peter says to “be ready to give a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15) but sometimes it seems the hope can get lost in a parade of rules. I asked my students what is the cause of our hope and after throwing out several answers, someone finally said the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus was the source of our hope.

“Do you feel like the Good News is good?”

They paused for a moment, almost seeming to sense there was a trick question they needed to skirt.

“Yes,” one student said.

“Why?”

This simple question seemed difficult for them. Someone replied, “Because it seemed like the right answer.” In fact, when I asked a later question (“Why does the Good News not seem good?”) they were able to respond with more answers.

When I go into the prison, so many of the men that come to the Catholic bible study or Mass are able to clearly point to their lives and say, “When I do my own will, I am not free.” It is a profound gift that the men in prison have that I think so many outside prison lack. The doctor, the teacher, the student, the politician, the bus driver, the plumber, the painter, the whatever can look like they have it together because they have some worldly success and their struggles might not be so apparent. The reality, however, is that we are all in great need of being saved. This crashes into the truth that the Good News is profoundly good, but it does require an acknowledgement that I cannot do it on my own.

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