“Sometimes we can only find our true direction when we let the wind of change carry us."
- Mimi Novic
I don't remember being born. I doubt anyone does. But I would like to have remembered that moment my mother tells me about where I burst out, eyes wide open and wanting to converse with well, everyone...immediately. The older I get, thank goodness, the more I realize how important it is for me to connect with people. When I am in the company of the husband, family, friends and colleagues, I reach that moment of zen and I feel alive.
Now, here is the complexity of this. At one point do we realize that we need quiet? At what point do we understand that living with some level of peace is the single most important thing we can do for ourselves? For me, the realization occurred when I started teaching 13 years ago. The older I get, the more quiet I need from the difficulties of a day of teaching. Five performances a day. Sometimes the audience buys into the show that is planned, sometimes not. The relief comes from the knowledge that tomorrow will be better. A teacher can dream right? I'm not convinced that it was fate or a calling that led me to teaching but I am pretty sure it had to do with being of service. It's the calling police officers, fire fighters, emergency medical technicians, nurses, and social workers feel and must honor, even at the cost of their own lives.
As soon as I was able to speak, I knew that I had to connect with people. I have been very successful with that vision. Sadly, there are other moments where the pain of the lack of success in reaching those who need it most, is well, unbearable. It is a remarkable and a necessary stubbornness that makes me rise each day at five a.m. and open that classroom door with the strategies in place for survival. Having once been an"egg" I am now the strictness and the stubbornness that came from my parents. The "egg" has served me well and it has made me realize that more connected we are to our parents and our families, the more prepared we are for the life outside of the womb. I ache for each kid that has walked into my classroom that has not had the direction that I had as a kid. Believe me, I hated my parents when they clamped down and actually said, "No." But, it made me appreciate the "Yes-es" even more. That's parenting. That is teaching. Sometimes the word "No" is the single most important word we can use when dealing with kids. Strike that..."No" is an important word period when spoken with love.
If I was the egg...if we all were eggs at some point, then our parents were chickens but NOT in the sense of well, chickens. There were eggs once too. We have a legacy of our beginnings which lead to our endings and we have a responsibility to honor what came first and make the world better from there. That's what teachers try to do. Sometimes we are incredibly successful. Other times we are soooooo not and we lick our wounds and wait for that five o'clock alarm to adjust.
Now, here is the complexity of this. At one point do we realize that we need quiet? At what point do we understand that living with some level of peace is the single most important thing we can do for ourselves? For me, the realization occurred when I started teaching 13 years ago. The older I get, the more quiet I need from the difficulties of a day of teaching. Five performances a day. Sometimes the audience buys into the show that is planned, sometimes not. The relief comes from the knowledge that tomorrow will be better. A teacher can dream right? I'm not convinced that it was fate or a calling that led me to teaching but I am pretty sure it had to do with being of service. It's the calling police officers, fire fighters, emergency medical technicians, nurses, and social workers feel and must honor, even at the cost of their own lives.
As soon as I was able to speak, I knew that I had to connect with people. I have been very successful with that vision. Sadly, there are other moments where the pain of the lack of success in reaching those who need it most, is well, unbearable. It is a remarkable and a necessary stubbornness that makes me rise each day at five a.m. and open that classroom door with the strategies in place for survival. Having once been an"egg" I am now the strictness and the stubbornness that came from my parents. The "egg" has served me well and it has made me realize that more connected we are to our parents and our families, the more prepared we are for the life outside of the womb. I ache for each kid that has walked into my classroom that has not had the direction that I had as a kid. Believe me, I hated my parents when they clamped down and actually said, "No." But, it made me appreciate the "Yes-es" even more. That's parenting. That is teaching. Sometimes the word "No" is the single most important word we can use when dealing with kids. Strike that..."No" is an important word period when spoken with love.
If I was the egg...if we all were eggs at some point, then our parents were chickens but NOT in the sense of well, chickens. There were eggs once too. We have a legacy of our beginnings which lead to our endings and we have a responsibility to honor what came first and make the world better from there. That's what teachers try to do. Sometimes we are incredibly successful. Other times we are soooooo not and we lick our wounds and wait for that five o'clock alarm to adjust.
