Strength

This morning, I was listening to a song on repeat.  The lyrics below stuck out to me, and got me thinking more about God’s unending grace and love:

“Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me. / Because on and on it goes, for it overwhelms and satisfies my soul, and I never ever have to be afraid, this one thing remains, this one thing remains. / Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me.” (One Thing Remains, by Jesus Culture)

As a Christian, we often go through seasons in life.  Some seasons feel like an abundance of love and grace are poured out on us, and other seasons feel like the heat and dryness and emptiness of the desert.  For the past year, I have found myself in the desert place, by my own doing.  I came into this year of teaching and left behind my community and friends in Columbus to embark on this adventure in Chicago.  Despite my struggles this year and finding myself in the desert, never for one moment did I question whether or not I was at the center of God’s will.  This creates a strange paradox, but I believe it to be true.  I have spent a lot of time this past year trying to “do life” independently.  At my core, I am a very independent person.  When it comes to big life transitions (like moving to a new city on my own!) this character trait can be both a saving grace, and my biggest flaw.  This past year, I saw it play itself out as both.  While it means I can push through really tough circumstances and focus on the end goal, it also means I can be too independent, and try to do everything on my own.  In reflecting on this past year, I definitely saw a lot of this - trying to do life on my own, apart from God.  Throughout the year, I saw my faith as the reason I was where I was (namely, in a new city, in a hard job, working inhumane hours) and as my motivation behind my work.  However, when it came to the day-to-day grind, I was working on my own strength, trying to push and encourage myself.  I rarely turned to God to say, “Lord, I can’t do this on my own, I need you”.  This conversation with God was rare this year, when it should have been a daily occurrence.  Looking back on the year, there are a lot of things I can be proud of, as I truly have accomplished a lot.  But when I compare this to what I have been told, I know I have accomplished nothing.  Let me explain:

In John 15, Jesus tells the story about the vine and the branches.  Two verses stick out to me: “Remain in me, and I will remain in you.  No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.  Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” (v. 4-5)

So, in looking back on the past year of working independently, apart from God, there are legitimately things that I have accomplished.  However, I am reminded that I did this independently and on my own strength.  Instead, God has called me (and all believers) to turn to him and depend on him.  Our strength is fleeting, temporary and weak.  His strength and power are never-failing, eternal, and perfect.  Our strength with fail us.  His strength is dependable, constant, and complete. The “fruit” I have borne this year is NOTHING in comparison to what could have been accomplished had I been turning to the perfect source of strength, instead of fighting the battle on my own.  I could come to this conclusion and feel totally defeated and worthless and foolish.  Instead, I have found myself coming to this conclusion hopeful and excited about what will be.  I can’t “re-do” this past year and fix what I did wrong.  I can and should celebrate what has been accomplished, because even if I wasn’t consciously turning to God for help, there is no doubt in my mind that he orchestrated the past year.  When I think about next year, I think about what I get to do differently.  And the first thing that will change is where I am turning to for my strength.  And instead of feeling regret or guilt from what I messed up on, I can be excited and filled with his hope for what is to come.

Blank walls

My students left me on Friday (and by left me, I mean they ran out, screaming and jumping for joy at the start of summer), and I have spent the past week wrapping up end of the year tasks.  One such task was tearing down my classroom and packing it up so they can do a deep clean and repaint the classrooms this summer.  Therefore, every poster is off the wall, my desk is empty, and the bookshelves are free of books.  Filing cabinets have been emptied, and my closet has been carefully arranged to host all these new items in a leaning tower of Pisa-like fashion.  Now, sitting in my bare classroom, I am looking around at the blank walls and empty desks.  I have two thoughts while looking around at the vacant room:

• The sappy/cliché thoughts: I have total freedom to reinvent my room and my class.  Blank walls = a blank slate. As much as I wouldn’t trade this past year for anything, I will be the first to admit that this past year has been really hard.  Coming into teaching, especially in an urban environment, I knew it would be hard, but I don’t think I ever knew just how hard this job would be, and how mentally and emotionally draining it would be.  But, I am very excited to be returning next year, to start (!) to perfect my craft and get better with each passing day.  Looking around the room, I have a visual reminder that I made it, and that I can do whatever I want next year, and not be confined to the self-imposed limits of a first-year teacher.
• The practical/pessimistic thoughts: We come back from summer in 5 weeks.  So in five short weeks, I have to drag all my books back from the book room, reorganize everything that has been crammed into my closet, and redecorate the entire room.  I am enough of a perfectionist that the first time I decorated my room, it stuck for the entire year.  So let’s be honest, a lot of the previous posters will get hung up in the exact same spot as they were last year.  And in 5 weeks, I get to re-do everything I just spent that past week un-doing.  But hey, a little inefficiency never hurt anyone!

So moving into summer, I turn in my classroom keys tomorrow to take a break from the never-ending demands of teaching for a few short weeks, and hopefully come back recharged and ready to hit the ground running.  And ready to redecorate my room, or maybe even reinvent it J

Lessons

This past weekend, I called home to wish my dad a happy Father’s Day.  As it was the first weekend after the end of school, we were reflecting together over the past year. Now, my dad is all about learning life lessons and all, so he asked me, quite directly, what do you think you’ve learned this year? Now, the answer to this question is not perfect, as I think many “life lessons” are realized long after the fact.  But given as I have officially completed my first year teaching, I do think I can start to answer this question.  So, what have I learned this year?

1. It’s not going to be perfect.  And that’s okay! I so often strive for perfection, but it’s not possible or realistic.  Instead, I must learn that it’s okay to let go and to take a break. No one asked me to be perfect, so why do I ask that of myself? I am (slowly!) learning that it’s okay to let go of some control and trust that things will work themselves out.
2. My role is to be faithful.  Along the lines of letting go, I have struggled with my “smallness” in such a big and broken world. I have wanted so much for my kids, but can provide so little.  I have felt hopeless and helpless in bringing change and redemption to the dark corners of this city, and to be able to change the circumstances for my kids.  So when asking what my role is here, I have been very stuck. I am now realizing that I am to be faithful to the work that God has called me to.  He hasn’t called me to change the world.  He has called me to teach.  I must be faithful in the task at hand and give the rest to him.  This is a lesson I grapple with daily, and will continue to be a real struggle for me (note: I am a control freak, and this requires me to be the opposite).  But, I must learn to be faithful in what he calls me to today.

Say What, part 3

Below are some more terms commonly used by my students that I have learned.  I have noticed in the past two months that: A) I am now regularly using some of these terms in my own speech; and B) I know I am missing probably 20 terms, but it is harder for me to recognize new terms.  I guess working here for 7 months means I am more used to the language, and it's not as noticeable to me anymore...

• Do it for the vine: Do something crazy.  This came from a Vine video that students sing/chant/quote. The idea is that when someone tells you to “do it for the vine”, you do something ridiculous and crazy in response, as if you were filming a Vine video.  When given this challenge, I respond in one of three ways: 1. Dance or jump or flail around; 2. Make a ridiculous face; 3. Ignore my students and insist they get back to work.  My response generally depends on my mood.  Below is the original Vine video that students are referencing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltrcNAcxuRc
• Merch: To provide proof or evidence of something.  It can either stand alone to be used as a response to someone's claim (to basically imply you don't believe it and want proof).
• O.G.: Original Gangster.  This means different things in different places, but for me and my students, it means mom.  Example: “Hold on, my OG be calling me” or “Why you call my OG last night?”
• “On…”: Examples: on my momma, on my granny, on my dead homie, on BD (Black Disciples- a gang).  This is used to imply total honesty in a statement made, as if you are swearing that you are telling the truth.  The equivalent when I was in high school was “I swear”, but my students swear “on” someone or something.
• Petty: This word is used ALL THE TIME.  Examples: “You petty”, “That’s petty”, “____’s petty as hell”.  Any of these are used to imply that the subject or situation is petty and focused on non-important things.  My students use this when I require them to write the date in Spanish (which we have done EVERY day since the beginning of school, by the way), or when I check homework the day it’s due.  What a crazy concept that I would actually CHECK the homework that I assigned!
• Stain: steal. One day walking up the stairs at school, my phone was starting to slip out of my pocket.  The Dean was walking with me and told me to "watch out, these kids finna stain you!"
• Trappin’: hustling, drug dealing.  A tell-tale sign that someone is trappin’ is that they have numerous cell phones, used to make a variety of arrangements or deals.
• Treat: similar to “flame”, often used in the context “he/she just treated your ass”. I hear this in my classroom after I sarcastically respond to foolish questions or inappropriate comments.

Lamenting

The transition from winter break back to the busyness of teaching has been one defined by the extreme cold that Chicago has been experiencing.  I am currently enjoying my fourth “cold day” this month, and have been hibernating quite a bit these past two days.  When the temperature drops below zero, with wind-chills pushing us to the frigid depths of -40 degrees, NOTHING is worth venturing outside for.  So instead, I am hibernating and reflecting on the past month; I realized that over my winter break I found myself dealing with frustration and mixed emotions as a result of my experiences teaching in Chicago.

I grew up in suburbia. It’s where I lived, went to school, made friends… it’s where I come from.  But the past year of my life has brought me to a very different place in the world: the inner-city.  While the inner-city isn’t without its challenges, it’s a place where I feel comfortable because of what I have been called to and equipped for by the Lord.  My winter break forced me out of the inner-city and back to suburbia for two weeks.  And I think there was some culture shock in that transition.

The first day back at home, I spent the evening talking and crying to my parents about my frustration just driving to the grocery store that day.  Here I was surrounded by middle-class America living comfortably in their small towns.  Looking at the houses and the stores and the roads I felt like this little town was so incredibly isolated from the world.  How can I be here (suburbia) when my students, whom I love, are hanging out on their block with friends, mindful of every car that goes by and every person that walks past, always on alert for danger, always aware that at any moment someone could pull a gun out and shoot at them? How can I be here, when my students are struggling through the decision on whether or not they want to leave their gang, because leaving means they must get jumped out, guaranteeing a visit to the hospital?  How can I be here, when my students are at home without heat, without food on the table? How can I be here celebrating Christmas when my students hate the holiday because of how it further represents the racial and economic divide in the world, and the reality that all the cards are stacked against them?

I know that I need to be careful when these frustrations start flowing.  I need to be careful that I am not being judgmental.  Issues of race and poverty and inequality are not exactly topics the world wants to talk about, and I am very comfortable discussing these things.  But these issues are so complex, that I can’t start placing the blame on anyone, and can’t accuse anyone. I need to be mindful of my thoughts and my words, that I am not condemning or criticizing.  I can never disown where I come from.  Even if it brings me frustration now as the result of culture shock, in some way my upbringing has brought me to this point and has played a role in preparing me for the work I am doing. 

Since moving to Chicago, I have been part of a small-group with other women who also teach in the inner-city.  We are a bit of a random group of women, brought together by our faith in Christ and our shared passion for our students and social justice.  Two weeks ago, we talked about lamentations.  For me, it was the exact conversation I needed to have at the end of a rough week, when the weight on my shoulders was crushing.

We talked about what it means to lament, and looked at Biblical examples of lamentations, not the least of which come from David and Job.  I best understand lamenting as a “righteous complaining” to God, a way to throw things at his feet, and say “what are you going to do about this?”  One of the principle lessons my generation has been taught is the importance of problem solving.  Thus, when I see problems around me – hunger, violence, neglect, corruption, pain, brokenness – my first reaction is to try to figure out what I can do to fix it. 

But this year, I am seeing SO MANY things.  I want to fix them all.  I want to be able to provide for my students – to provide them with food, with shelter, with safety, with love and respect, with protection from corruption and racism.  But the reality is I can’t do it all.  The past two months, I have been grappling with the reality that the Lord is exposing me to these things and is breaking my heart for them, but never once has he commanded me to fix it.  And that is a hard truth for me to accept.  Because instead of fixing anything, he is calling me “to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). Believe it or not, this is really hard for me to grasp.  I so much want to change the situations for my students, but this means changing an entire society that is built upon systemic racism and segregation and economic inequality and corruption.  This is not the battle God has called me to.  When I see these things and think about how I can do nothing about them, I feel entirely helpless and hopeless.  And this is where lamentations come in.

I can go to God and lay it all at his feet.  I can take each and every situation and story to him, and say “Here it is.  I can’t fix this.  I am broken by this.  What are you going to do about it?”  In this process, I am admitting a few things: I am admitting that the world is broken.  I am admitting that I am inadequate, and unable to fix it on my own.  To think otherwise would be untrue.  I am admitting that God is in control.  I am admitting that God is all-powerful and can bring salvation and justice to the world with his breath.  I am laying the problems I see at his feet, and surrendering them to him.  This isn’t to say that my heart is not still broken for my students, but it frees me from having to carry their burdens. Lamenting entrusts these burdens "to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us" (Ephesians 3:20).  Because I can't fix it, and the only answer is to give it to Him who can.

Sustainability

As a first year teacher, the demands for my time and energy are endless.  I regularly work 80 hours a week, and rarely know what I’m going to teach more than a few days in advance.  Do I know what I’m teaching next week? That’s funny. Unit plans? Nice try. Year-long calendar sequence? You must be dreaming.  Life truly has become a game of keeping my head above water.

As I struggle each day to spend less than 12 hours in the school and to leave at a semi-reasonable hour, I have had conversations with other first-year teachers.  My experience is not unique.  Being a first-year teacher just sucks… a lot.

Retention rates for schools – especially high-need, urban schools – is pretty low.  The first few years of teaching are the hardest, and many young, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, well-intentioned teachers burn out.  Last week, I was talking to another Spanish teacher.  We were talking about all this, and about how hard the first few months have been and about survival strategies.  In our conversation, as in many of my conversations about this experience, I articulated how I am incredibly tired, consistently overwhelmed, and perpetually behind on the to-do list, and how in spite of it all, I love my job, love my students, and can’t imagine doing anything else.  I may only be a few months into it, but I feel as though this is what I have been called to for the rest of my life.  He was a bit surprised to say the least.  His comment was something to the extent of: “that’s awesome, but I don’t understand how you do it.  I don’t know how anyone does it. This way of life isn’t sustainable. There’s no way I will teach for the rest of my life.”

Now, I didn’t take our conversation in this direction, but I have definitely spent a lot of time thinking about all this.  And I know that the reason I’m not hating every second of my life is because I have been filled with such peace.  Christians often talk about being “called” to something.  I never heard a booming voice from heaven, but the peace and the calm I feel in the midst of such chaos assures me that this is exactly where God wants me and that he has equipped me for the task.  How else can I explain it? I am a young, white woman from the suburbs working with inner-city black boys, many involved in gangs, many whose stories couldn’t be more different from my own.  And yet each day, we laugh and joke around and sometimes we even learn something about Spanish. This doesn’t make sense!

I won’t deny that this job is hard.  It’s REALLY hard. The challenges of lesson planning, on top of behavior management, on top of school culture and dynamics, on top of my students’ needs, on top of MY needs… you get the point. But I know that the Lord has a purpose and a plan for me here. I am filled with peace. And I don’t plan on going anywhere.

“Now may the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with every good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.” Hebrews 13:20-21

Say what, continued

Each day brings new lessons, for my students and myself alike.  Here are some more words and phrases I have learned:

• Bars: lyrics/rap.  Often used as "spittin' bars" to mean rapping.  Students are now asking when I'm gonna "spit bars".
• Bogus: this words seems to be a less vulgar version of "bull s***", but is used all the time. Situations and people can be "bogus".  Example: "You bogus" or "That's bogus".  Most often used as "That's bogus as hell".
• Cuffin': to start dating someone.  Example: "This female and I were cuffin' this weekend and now she's my gf". That is a real quote form something one of my students wrote...
• Detail: also, "on the clock".  Referring to being a body guard.  Example: "I finna detail for you, Señorita".
• Doin' too much: trying too hard, as determined by the speaker. Examples: Straight A students are described as "doin' too much".  Also, I never sit down when I am teaching and always walk around my classroom, and my students tell me I'm "doin' too much".
• Drill: to kill; to have sex with; to flame.  The meaning varies greatly depending on the context.
• Flame: to embarrass someone.  Example: "He's finna flame me for that".  Side note: My students got a picture of me after school one day making a semi-obnoxious face, and they think they can "flame" me with it.  What they don't realize is that I make that face all the time, and there are numerous pictures in existence documenting the expression.  Good luck guys, it's gonna take more than that...
• Lacking: not paying attention.  I believe this comes from "slacking".  Example: my keys were on my desk and a student picked them up while I was sitting there.  He immediately, and dramatically, threw them back on the desk and said "Señorita, you can't be lacking like that", implying that I wasn't paying attention.  Also, this past week I asked my students about their Halloween plans.  One student wrote that he was going to "sit in the crib. Can't get caught lacking in Chicago because I am trying to stay alive longer than 50 years." A harsh reality in a violent city.
• L's: driver's license. Example: "I turn 18 next week and I'm finna get my L's".
• Stuntin' (her name): to be involved (with a girl) and make it known to others.  Example: "He's stuntin' her name".  Translation: he claims he's seeing that girl.
• Thot: stands for "that hoe over there", pronounced "thought". Obviously there are a few conversations about respect that my students and I will be having in the near future...