A Reflection, and a Charge

So I have, as of two days ago, been a teacher officially for an ENTIRE WEEK, and despite how sore my feet are and how heavy my head is, I wanted to sit down for a moment and reflect a little on my first experiences teaching, and my first experiences in an urban school. A couple of weeks ago I began work as a co-teaching 'learning advisor' in an urban middle school here in East Nashville, and I can quite honestly say that I really, really, really do like it a lot. That is NOT to say that it has been easy, or that it hasn't been TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY EXHAUSTING, but I have been largely surrounded by wonderful teachers and supportive administrators and for that I am so extremely thankful.

Funnily enough, I get the feeling that everyone around me was pretty much expecting me to fall to pieces at some point in my first week. Not that they have been judgmental, but I think when people meet me they get this image in their heads of a wimpy little girl who was raised in private school and isn't ready to handle some of the situations, pressures, and trials of an environment like the one I am now in. But in the first week, I was not one of those who ended up in tears at any point, and, in fact, one morning at breakfast I actually got a comment from a friend who said he was completely shocked by my sass as I reprimanded a group of lazy seventh grade boys to pick up their trash. And the next day, my program advisor from Vandy spoke with me in the hall after school and seemed genuinely surprised that I was so enthusiastic and positive about my week. I'm fairly certain she was expecting to be picking me up off the floor and handing me tissues for the tears bound to be pouring down my face.

Miss Hazelton: Defying expectations since 2013

All of this is kind-of exciting for me, because for once in my life, I'm glad to show others that I'm not useless, that I'm not some stupid, prissy, spoiled brat, and that I'm not a baby. Even so, letting people credit me with more backbone than they anticipate isn't fair, either. I certainly am no star teacher, and I openly admit that I have ZERO idea of what I am doing most of the time. I'm not getting through hard days and behavior problems by my own patience and perseverance and wisdom. It's not me at all. I am a wimp and a baby and a hot mess. The secret that no one knows though, the very reason I'm able to hold it together is because of God's strength--not at all because of my own. Each day I am becoming more aware that I am nothing short of a disaster and that I can't begin to help these students learn to love and respect each other and themselves without trusting and asking Christ to guide every word that comes out of my mouth, and every movement that is made by my body. I want so much to do right for these children, to do right by God in how I treat them. It's become so crucial for me to pray every morning for that guidance, because even in just the week and a half that I have been teaching, I have noticed vast differences in how I act and how my children respond when I haven't taken the time to beg for God's mercy on my heart, my words, and my actions. This is my charge to myself to do that everyday, because that guidance is worth so much more than the seating chart, the morning meeting plan, or the lesson preparations. It is the essential in everything that I do, that I do it always from a place of love and of grace. ♥