Back to School

The back-to-school nightmares usually start in early to mid-August.

I'm in the theatre with a class of students waiting for me to start teaching, but I can't find any of the supplies I need for the class. I'm searching frantically for supplies when suddenly I realize that I am late for a faculty meeting. I rush out of the classroom, leaving all of the students behind, but when I finally make it to the staff meeting everyone is leaving and the principal is just standing there shaking her head in disappointment and my department chair is asking why I didn't get coverage for the class I just abandoned.

Then there's the rehearsal nightmare-- it's our final dress rehearsal for the musical when the lead suddenly tells me her parents are pulling her out of the show and the only person who is ready to go on in her place is the dance teacher (which isn't really such a nightmare, since our dance teacher would be great at any part!).

The most bizarre and vivid dream this year was one where a student who isn't even in a class I teach was rollerblading off of the stage into the orchestra pit... I woke up in a cold sweat, certain I needed to write an immediate office referral.

For all of the joy and rest that the summer brings, the fall is a busy, chaotic, and anxiety inducing time for educators, and this year in particular, I have had a hard time feeling ready to shift back from zero to sixty. I know that as soon as students enter the building next week, I'll be back to working 10-12 hour days, prepping and teaching 5 classes, running after-school rehearsals and spearheading production for a huge musical that goes up in less than three months. And though I have been trying to get myself ready for back to school since getting home from Seattle a few weeks ago, there are still quite a few ducks wandering the murky swamp of my brain that need to get in a row in the next nine days. Between classroom (and backstage) organization, lesson plans, syllabi, rehearsal schedules, welcome e-mails to parents, freshman orientation, department meetings, mandatory professional development, planning meetings for the musical, purchase orders for production and classroom supplies, etc., etc., etc., the sheer scope of what I need to accomplish in the next week (and year!) feels overwhelming, discouraging, nearly paralyzing.

To calm the looming anxiety that has set in over these past few weeks, I've been trying to get up early enough to actually make breakfast, have a cup of coffee, and pray / read scripture / meditate for at least half an hour each day. I don't know how consistent I'll be able to be with these habits once I have to start leaving my house at 6:30 AM again, but I do think that the practice has been helping me shift my focus to things that matter and let some of the worry about the incoming school year slip away.

During my quiet times this week, God gave me one particular passage of scripture as a prayer for this school year...

1 Thessalonians 5:14-17, 24:

"And we urge you, brothers and sisters, warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus...

The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it."

For me, and for most teachers I know, Christian or otherwise, education is not just a job. It is a calling. But already in two years, I've found myself losing sight of that call, weighed down and overwhelmed by an unending to-do list, an impossibly full e-mail inbox, exhausting parent-teacher conferences, and constantly fluctuating, steadily frustrating federal, state, and county-mandated regulations and requirements.

I remember last year telling one of my mentors that I felt like no matter how much I got done in any given week, I was always dropping the ball somewhere. She laughed and said casually, "Welcome to public education."

The truth I'm learning about my job is this: I will probably always feel like I'm two steps behind. I will very rarely finish everything I expect to do in any given day. But I will continue to pray that through the grace and spirit of God, I will be equipped to recognize and do the things that matter most in any given moment.

To "warn the idle and disruptive" students who need correction and redirection.

To "encourage the disheartened" pupils whose personal trauma and emotional issues keep them from engaging in the classroom.

To "help the weak" students who are struggling academically and socially.

To "be patient with everyone" --students who drive me crazy, teachers who push my buttons, parents who question my ability to do my job, administrators whose policies make no sense to me.

To cultivate a classroom culture where respect is paramount, "nobody pays back wrong for wrong", and all students "strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else."

This is my calling. "The one who calls me is faithful, and he will do it." I'm just along for the ride.