I posted a status on WhatsApp
the other day asking people to send me questions to write about. Here are some
I received.
—A Faraway Friend
Not unless you live in Texas or Pennsylvania! And even then, I’m afraid I’ll be seeing only a limited amount of wonderful people.
Are you enjoying your new job?
—Curious Inquirer
Yes! I told my boss the other day
that I felt a little bit about my current job like I did about teaching, in the
way that I was enjoying it enough it felt like cheating somehow to get paid for
it.
What is your favorite part of your job?
—From the Bayou State
This might sound strange, but organizing! I’m having the time of my life putting things into spreadsheets and assigning call numbers to every box. I get great satisfaction in lining up the various tools and dispensers near my desk.
Lest you think this is out of character, I did once attempt to organize my art project binder in alphabetical order. One of my aunts used to let me come and spend happy hours arranging books on her shelves. I have, in one of my carefully curated folders containing mementos from years of teaching, an organized record of jobs from a certain donut fundraiser event where every person’s responsibility was listed in great detail. Mine was “Panic and stress out.”
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I do like organization, even if it doesn’t always look like it.
How can we show support for our teachers?
—Reflecting in the Southwest
Support, I think, is really in going out of your way to build a connection. It’s related to showing love, and it can be as simple as having a conversation or sending a “Have a good day!” text. I can’t tell you how you should show support, because everyone has a way unique to their personality of doing so. Besides, I’m sure you know all the normal things that are said about having the teachers over for meals and checking in on your child.
So instead of answering your question directly, I’m going to tell you about some of the people who have made me feel supported throughout the years. I don’t know if I ever thanked them properly, but I hope they know how much their kindness was appreciated!
First, for good reason, are the grandpas and grandmas who have come up to me in church and said, “We pray for you at school every day.”
There was the young married girl who didn’t love being in the kitchen, but went out of her way to bring us a plate of cookies.
There were the moms who invited us over for supper and just let us be part of the family. They put us to work stirring up dessert or making tortillas or let us entertain the children so they could work uninterrupted. Many teachers long for these cozy family moments.
There were the dads who made a point to have family devotions before we went home in the evening. That’s a rare privilege in most teacherages.
All the random gifts of food that appeared in the fridge! Sometimes we had no idea where they came from. They were particularly appreciated around busy times, like Christmas and revivals.
The dear, patient Sewing Circle ladies who helped many times to expand my wardrobe.
There were the women who said, “I’m going to town today. Do you need anything?” I often didn’t, but the fact that they asked gave me a warm feeling, and if I ever did need something, I wouldn’t have been shy to let them know.
Missives written on the markerboard or on a sticky note at my desk—things like “Have a good day!” “I’m praying for you!” or “You’ve got this!” Sometimes I could recognize the handwriting, but many times I didn’t.
Random little gifts—a tiny bird, a jar of jelly, a candle, a single flower—always took my breath away. Someone thought of me enough to go out of their way for me.
The families that took me on adventures to a state park, an escape room, a museum, or flying with their pilot-neighbor—I felt appreciated and supported, because you don’t usually spend a whole day making memories with someone you can’t stand!
The mothers and especially fathers who took time out of their busy day to sit in my classroom and show an interest in what really happened there.
Those who sent text messages asking how their child was doing and those who went so far as to step in my room and have a face to face conversation and look at their child’s work.
The kindly gentleman who was not involved with school in any way, but gave each teacher a hundred-dollar bill at the start of summer vacation. That was support in a generous and much-appreciated way.
The schoolboard who knew how to be lighthearted, too, because many teachers need those moments to laugh. I’m thinking particularly of the one who left a dead armadillo in the driveway drinking a Mountain Dew.
Throughout my years of teaching, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a congregation where I didn’t feel supported. Perhaps it is we teachers that should be asking how we can show support for our schoolboards and parents and how we can show our appreciation for everything that is done for us.
When was your favorite year teaching?
—From Florida
I thought this would be an easy question to answer at first, but then I realized this is extremely treacherous territory as I run the risk of alienating at least four congregations, around nineteen co-teachers, and far too many students. Besides, part of teaching is definitely life at the teacherage and social life, not just strictly what goes on at school, so I think I’ll just mention a few years that stand out in my mind.
One of these, as far as life at the teacherage, was the year of Sam. Sam appeared quite innocently enough one morning as blankets and who knows what stuffed under the covers of someone’s bed while said someone was taking a shower. We knew his name was Sam because he was holding a sign that said so. Sam soon grew to have a whole history (he came from Alaska), and he was even given a new physique stuffed with hay. He went with us to organized youth one night, and one day after the schoolboard had been at the teacherage fixing something, we found him on the roof of our house eating a Snickers candy bar and drinking a Mountain Dew. When we returned to the teacherage after Christmas break, Sam was sitting at the dining room table with his lovely bride! However, all good things must come to an end. Sam’s wife had to be returned to those who donated her, and he died soon after of a broken heart. His faux alligator shoes were willed to one of the youth leaders to be used as flower planters as this youth leader had expressed a particular dislike for them. Last I heard you can still find his tombstone in the attic of the house he once haunted.
One of my favorite years in the classroom was the year I discovered review games and the impact they could have on my class. We played one, called Rally, quite a lot. It involved racing different types of vehicles across the board through a variety of terrain. One of my students invented his own version of the game that was full of even more dangerous obstacles, such as atomic waste sites. Was that the same year we had an archeological excavation one day for history class? I don’t know for sure.
Another year that was a lot of fun was the year the classroom had an Investigator theme. It took a few days for the children to catch on that there was a hidden compartment under a chair, a hollowed out book, and other random hiding places. A few times I hid puzzles in their work that led to clues which eventually opened a locked box where they would find candy or some such unhealthy thing.
Oh, and the year of Artists and Authors! Hiding Waldo once a week in our room and trying to create modern art were a fun time, too.
But really, although some years are more memorable than others, all of them have their good and bad parts. And I’ve loved each of them for different reasons.
What is one specific thing or place or something you’ve
done or still do that has brought you the most peace of mind and calmness?
—From The Panhandle
Dear Panhandle,
I know you said it needn’t be something spiritual, but all the things that bring me calmness usually have something spiritual embedded in them! I guess I’m not a very calm person by nature.
First, of course, is talking to God. But not just a quick prayer before bed. I mean really talking to Him and taking time to listen. My favorites are on meandering walks by myself and while driving. I love to talk out loud to Him and pour out my heart, and there’s a special calmness that just settles over me during those special times.
Something else that’s not quite as spiritual that brings me calmness is writing. I use writing to work out my thoughts and feelings, and it helps so much to get it out of my brain and onto paper (or filed on my laptop). Being creative in any way can give me a feeling of calmness, though, I think. Painting is great for this, and recently I’ve tried carving soap (random indeed).
Of course, having a heart-to-heart conversation with a friend I trust can also help sort out the tangles of my mind and give me rest about things.
I know, I know. You said one specific thing. I apologize. This is neither one thing nor specific.
Can you take notes in a church service without looking at
your paper to see where you are writing? Heard recently someone saw you do it
and was amazed.
—Skeptical from the Southeast
You have reason to be skeptical. I am, too.
The method you describe is one used at weddings when I’ve been asked to write impressions. Generally, I’m terrified if I look at the paper, I’ll miss the most interesting things that the bridal couple would like to know about. The success of said method is another story.
Once in a while I surprise myself by staying mostly on the lines. At other times my writing looks like an inebriated worm.
I often get asked, “How do you do that?” It’s actually pretty straight forward. I usually look down at my paper just to start the next line I’m writing. I take notes in church every Sunday, so maybe I’ve somehow acquired a sense of the correct angle to write or the spacing, I don’t know. But honestly I think anyone can do it, if they don’t mind looking a little strange.
My request for questions was
inspired partly by Sean Dietrich, but also by the desire to write on random
topics. I wanted to write about things I’ve never really written about before.
I love to ask people questions, which doesn’t always turn out too well. Among some of the most spectacular fails have been “Do you like sloths?” and “What color is your toothbrush?” My current favorite is “What are three things that make your eyes sparkle?” I think some of the questions I received are only fair payback for all the awkward moments I’ve caused.
With that being said, stay on the lookout for Part II. I've saved some of the hardest ones for later.
—From the Bayou State
This might sound strange, but organizing! I’m having the time of my life putting things into spreadsheets and assigning call numbers to every box. I get great satisfaction in lining up the various tools and dispensers near my desk.
Lest you think this is out of character, I did once attempt to organize my art project binder in alphabetical order. One of my aunts used to let me come and spend happy hours arranging books on her shelves. I have, in one of my carefully curated folders containing mementos from years of teaching, an organized record of jobs from a certain donut fundraiser event where every person’s responsibility was listed in great detail. Mine was “Panic and stress out.”
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I do like organization, even if it doesn’t always look like it.
—Reflecting in the Southwest
Support, I think, is really in going out of your way to build a connection. It’s related to showing love, and it can be as simple as having a conversation or sending a “Have a good day!” text. I can’t tell you how you should show support, because everyone has a way unique to their personality of doing so. Besides, I’m sure you know all the normal things that are said about having the teachers over for meals and checking in on your child.
So instead of answering your question directly, I’m going to tell you about some of the people who have made me feel supported throughout the years. I don’t know if I ever thanked them properly, but I hope they know how much their kindness was appreciated!
First, for good reason, are the grandpas and grandmas who have come up to me in church and said, “We pray for you at school every day.”
There was the young married girl who didn’t love being in the kitchen, but went out of her way to bring us a plate of cookies.
There were the moms who invited us over for supper and just let us be part of the family. They put us to work stirring up dessert or making tortillas or let us entertain the children so they could work uninterrupted. Many teachers long for these cozy family moments.
There were the dads who made a point to have family devotions before we went home in the evening. That’s a rare privilege in most teacherages.
All the random gifts of food that appeared in the fridge! Sometimes we had no idea where they came from. They were particularly appreciated around busy times, like Christmas and revivals.
The dear, patient Sewing Circle ladies who helped many times to expand my wardrobe.
There were the women who said, “I’m going to town today. Do you need anything?” I often didn’t, but the fact that they asked gave me a warm feeling, and if I ever did need something, I wouldn’t have been shy to let them know.
Missives written on the markerboard or on a sticky note at my desk—things like “Have a good day!” “I’m praying for you!” or “You’ve got this!” Sometimes I could recognize the handwriting, but many times I didn’t.
Random little gifts—a tiny bird, a jar of jelly, a candle, a single flower—always took my breath away. Someone thought of me enough to go out of their way for me.
The families that took me on adventures to a state park, an escape room, a museum, or flying with their pilot-neighbor—I felt appreciated and supported, because you don’t usually spend a whole day making memories with someone you can’t stand!
The mothers and especially fathers who took time out of their busy day to sit in my classroom and show an interest in what really happened there.
Those who sent text messages asking how their child was doing and those who went so far as to step in my room and have a face to face conversation and look at their child’s work.
The kindly gentleman who was not involved with school in any way, but gave each teacher a hundred-dollar bill at the start of summer vacation. That was support in a generous and much-appreciated way.
The schoolboard who knew how to be lighthearted, too, because many teachers need those moments to laugh. I’m thinking particularly of the one who left a dead armadillo in the driveway drinking a Mountain Dew.
Throughout my years of teaching, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a congregation where I didn’t feel supported. Perhaps it is we teachers that should be asking how we can show support for our schoolboards and parents and how we can show our appreciation for everything that is done for us.
—From Florida
I thought this would be an easy question to answer at first, but then I realized this is extremely treacherous territory as I run the risk of alienating at least four congregations, around nineteen co-teachers, and far too many students. Besides, part of teaching is definitely life at the teacherage and social life, not just strictly what goes on at school, so I think I’ll just mention a few years that stand out in my mind.
One of these, as far as life at the teacherage, was the year of Sam. Sam appeared quite innocently enough one morning as blankets and who knows what stuffed under the covers of someone’s bed while said someone was taking a shower. We knew his name was Sam because he was holding a sign that said so. Sam soon grew to have a whole history (he came from Alaska), and he was even given a new physique stuffed with hay. He went with us to organized youth one night, and one day after the schoolboard had been at the teacherage fixing something, we found him on the roof of our house eating a Snickers candy bar and drinking a Mountain Dew. When we returned to the teacherage after Christmas break, Sam was sitting at the dining room table with his lovely bride! However, all good things must come to an end. Sam’s wife had to be returned to those who donated her, and he died soon after of a broken heart. His faux alligator shoes were willed to one of the youth leaders to be used as flower planters as this youth leader had expressed a particular dislike for them. Last I heard you can still find his tombstone in the attic of the house he once haunted.
One of my favorite years in the classroom was the year I discovered review games and the impact they could have on my class. We played one, called Rally, quite a lot. It involved racing different types of vehicles across the board through a variety of terrain. One of my students invented his own version of the game that was full of even more dangerous obstacles, such as atomic waste sites. Was that the same year we had an archeological excavation one day for history class? I don’t know for sure.
Another year that was a lot of fun was the year the classroom had an Investigator theme. It took a few days for the children to catch on that there was a hidden compartment under a chair, a hollowed out book, and other random hiding places. A few times I hid puzzles in their work that led to clues which eventually opened a locked box where they would find candy or some such unhealthy thing.
Oh, and the year of Artists and Authors! Hiding Waldo once a week in our room and trying to create modern art were a fun time, too.
But really, although some years are more memorable than others, all of them have their good and bad parts. And I’ve loved each of them for different reasons.
—From The Panhandle
Dear Panhandle,
I know you said it needn’t be something spiritual, but all the things that bring me calmness usually have something spiritual embedded in them! I guess I’m not a very calm person by nature.
First, of course, is talking to God. But not just a quick prayer before bed. I mean really talking to Him and taking time to listen. My favorites are on meandering walks by myself and while driving. I love to talk out loud to Him and pour out my heart, and there’s a special calmness that just settles over me during those special times.
Something else that’s not quite as spiritual that brings me calmness is writing. I use writing to work out my thoughts and feelings, and it helps so much to get it out of my brain and onto paper (or filed on my laptop). Being creative in any way can give me a feeling of calmness, though, I think. Painting is great for this, and recently I’ve tried carving soap (random indeed).
Of course, having a heart-to-heart conversation with a friend I trust can also help sort out the tangles of my mind and give me rest about things.
I know, I know. You said one specific thing. I apologize. This is neither one thing nor specific.
—Skeptical from the Southeast
You have reason to be skeptical. I am, too.
The method you describe is one used at weddings when I’ve been asked to write impressions. Generally, I’m terrified if I look at the paper, I’ll miss the most interesting things that the bridal couple would like to know about. The success of said method is another story.
Once in a while I surprise myself by staying mostly on the lines. At other times my writing looks like an inebriated worm.
I often get asked, “How do you do that?” It’s actually pretty straight forward. I usually look down at my paper just to start the next line I’m writing. I take notes in church every Sunday, so maybe I’ve somehow acquired a sense of the correct angle to write or the spacing, I don’t know. But honestly I think anyone can do it, if they don’t mind looking a little strange.
I love to ask people questions, which doesn’t always turn out too well. Among some of the most spectacular fails have been “Do you like sloths?” and “What color is your toothbrush?” My current favorite is “What are three things that make your eyes sparkle?” I think some of the questions I received are only fair payback for all the awkward moments I’ve caused.
With that being said, stay on the lookout for Part II. I've saved some of the hardest ones for later.
