Would you do it again?

Miss Pezz returns, with a soon to be outdated last name! I don't know if I'm actually taking up blogging again, but I wanted to end the year with an entry, to share the roller-coaster its been, and take time myself to process the events. Hopefully my writing skills haven't deteriorated too much from spending the year learning to communicate with the 13 year old mind...

I finished school last thursday, and then last weekend I was at a wedding, catching up with people that I've only seen once or twice since graduation. Lots of questions were asked about the year, about teaching, about the kids, about Matt and I's story. Then one that made me pause: "Would you do it over again?"

Would I?

I said a vague yes, I think...vague because I didn't actually know the answer. In my mind, I started making a mental balance, stacking rewarding moments on one side and struggles on the other. It raced at top-speed through "Well I met Matt, but did I actually have to teach for that to happen? Some of the kids were cute, some of the kids learned things, some of the kids were not cute, I don't know if they all learned, could I do it again knowing how hard it would be? I had great roommates, I ended up surviving, God called me here."

There it is.

God called me here. Out of the messy stream of consciousness, a piece of truth. God called me here.

That truth negates the need for my mental balance. I think I expected that teaching in a TFA placement school would provide me with a multitude of warm and fuzzy rewarding experiences. Bubbling over with idealism, I flew to North Carolina, ready to make a difference. I expected to live a sort of "Chicken Soup for the Teacher's Soul," where a couple words from kids would make up for all the hard times, and I would say "Aw that just made it all worthwhile" about 14 times a day.

But then I started teaching, and stared the racial and socioeconomic achievement gap in the eyes for 180 days. I had two 16 year old 8th graders who could still barely read. One of them dropped out halfway through the year, and I would see him roaming the streets of the town by the school, doing the same thing he'll probably be doing in 20 years, if nothing changes. While teaching 7th grade math remediation, I discovered that half the class couldn't do long division. I had students who had given up the idea of succeeding in school many years ago, and disrupted class as a defense mechanism. I saw too many fights, and (somehow) broke them up while completely lacking upper body strength because it upsets me when they try to hurt each other. I saw 170 middle schoolers every day, taught 6 science classes and a math remediation, and then went home and spent most of the rest of the waking hours making materials for the next day.

I don't want to make it sound like there were no rewards. I ended up with great relationships with some of my students and got lots of hugs on the last day of school. My kids did well on their end of grade Science test, and I was proud of them like their mamas. I got "I'm sorry for how I acted" letters, and "Thank you for not giving up on me" letters. Meeting Matt is another category, completely, and was often the only reason I felt sure this is where I should be. But in the realm of teaching alone, in the end, this first year was so hard, defeating, tiring on all levels, and discouraging at times, that if I had to actually use that balance scale in my head, the answer to "Would you do it again?" would logically be no.

Logically.

But we are not bound by logic. Our actions are not determined by the promise of rewards on Earth. This job is not about me. Following God's will is not determined by how "successful" I feel doing it.

So would I do it again?

Yes.

Because this job is important. Every kid should be able to read, write, do math, learn science, learn history, LEARN, and succeed academically. For our kids, it is the only chance they have of something better that the trap of generational poverty. It is not about us, it is not about me. Every kid should be able to learn.

Because God called me here. And He's confirmed that over and over--a prime example being the fact that I met my wonderful fiance here. If He had called me here to fail at something for two years, then I do my best and trust Him. If He called me here to get my hands dirty and open my eyes to injustice, then I come, and I pray, and I try. If He called me here to be Superwoman in the classroom, then I make the most of those skills and gifts. Right now, its looking like the middle option, but regardless, He called me here, so I do it, and I would again.

Earlier this year, a teacher at my school said "A kid will say something to you this year that will make it all worthwhile." And that did not turn out to be true. This year was so hard, that human affirmation, no matter how cute the face it came from, could not make it all worthwhile. But this job is important. God called me here. That's what made the struggles worthwhile. That's why we do it. And that's why I would do it over again.