Teaching

My profession has been heavy on my heart lately for a variety of reasons. For one, I am in the middle of writing up my responses to the Teacher of the Year questions. One of the first questions asks why I became a teacher. I'm supposed to write two double-spaced pages, but I can sum up my response in much less than that. I am a big believer that I didn't choose teaching, but instead, it chose me. Some are called to study law, some are called into medicine, and I was called to teach; it is as much a part of my DNA as my eye color. I honestly consider it one of the most honorable professions in the world. Sure, there are jobs I could work and get paid much more money or have much more prestige, but I'd rather sit in my classroom and shape the lives of young adults over money and titles any day of the week.

Last night in my graduate class, one of my fellow classmates (and a teacher) shared with our little 618 family that this would be her last year teaching. She's not retiring and hasn't been laid off. After three years, she's just decided teaching is not for her. I am devastated to say the very least. I've seen her presentations in class, heard her talk about her students with such passion, and now I feel like our field is losing something great. Denise Hildreth-Jones, one of my favorite Christian speakers, is also a novelist. She often tells the story of how she never believed she could be a writer until someone told her that she needed to write a book. Her response was, "I don't write," and the person said, "Yeah, you do." After publishing several novels, she tells this story to reference the power other people have to call us into our destinies. I wholeheartedly believe that teaching is mine.

When I was a little girl, I often had to be my sister's student while she played school. I desperately wanted to grow up and have either a younger sibling or a classroom of my own so I could teach real people instead of stuffed animals. My parents assured me a classroom would be the more likely of the two. I remember racing in the door from kindergarten, eager to teach my daddy the letter "J" and all the j-words we had learned that day. A love for learning had ignited even then, and it has continued to grow.

Are there bad days in teaching? Sure, there are. Do I often leave school at 5:00 exhausted and lugging home a night's worth of work to grade? Of course. Sure, I'd like a job that allows my day to end when I leave my place of employment, and there are days I'd practically kill for a decent lunch instead of whatever the cafeteria staff has dreamed up. But at the end of each and every day, there is nothing I'd rather do than teach. It is who I am.

Me with one of my favorite students on her happy graduation day.