The Antidote for February Fever - Remember Your Impact

Teachers, I have good news for you.  February is almost over!  February Fever used to get to me every year.  It's been a while since Christmas, and spring break is a way off.  There are unexpected interruptions to your routine.  You may have a little Seasonal Affective Disorder, and so do the kids.  

What I always found helpful during these doldrums of the year was to remember my purpose and my impact.  Rather than focus on the day to day grind in front of you, remember the long term. You walk into a classroom every day, expected to equip, challenge, and inspire every student. There are kids who will be able to read because of your work.  There are people who will go into medicine because of your inspiration. You have students who will carry a love of art, theater, or literature because of you.  If are being discussed at dinner tables, and you may continue to be discussed years from now when your students tell their own children about you.  You build up students into people with a broader view of the world than they would have if you hadn’t been their teacher.  It’s an awesome thing to consider.

One of the reasons I know this is true is the memory of my own teachers. You'll find stories of them in this blog because I write Thanksgiving posts about them. I was a nerd who loved school. I never viewed it as utilitarian, a way to get into college, or job training. I did, of course, love some subjects more than others. History was my least favorite.  Yet, I had a middle school history teacher named Mr. Watkins whose passion for the story of Czar Nicholas and Alexandra of Russia was so strong that I couldn't help but be drawn into it.  A decade later, I found myself in a Tulsa art museum with tears streaming down my face as I stood in front of Alexandra’s crown and a desk used by Nicholas.  I don’t normally have emotional responses to furniture and jewelry, but a teacher inspired me in a way that made me care (and had nothing to do with getting a job).

Students don't always tell you the impact you are making, so when they do, hang onto it.  If you get a nice email from a student or parent, keep it in an encouragement folder so you can revisit it when you need to.  Keep a box or drawer for the random little tokens of affection you get (random drawings, silly inside jokes, end of the year notes, etc.).  When someone does tell you how you affected them, hold onto it, and remember that there are likely more of those stories you don't know.

I occasionally run into former students of mine in public.  I have run into them at movie theaters, grocery stores, and even airports.  There is nothing quite like the feeling of hearing "Miss Hawks?!?" from across a room.  Since I began working at the YMCA, there have been a surprising number of encounters with those I once taught. Some are there to get their lifeguard certifications. Others are there to work out in the gym or play basketball.  Some come in to bring their kids to swim lessons. Whether I had them last year or two decades ago, they stop by the desk and remind me that there is impact beyond the year I taught them.

Quite some time ago, I was in a restaurant.  A young man excitedly said my name.  It was a young hot head a taught in a school where I only stayed for one year (a year I often gloss over when thinking about my career). He turned to his friend and said, "This is the teacher who put up with all my crap."  Yep, that's exactly what I was.  I don't know what impact that had on the man he is today, but I hope it had some.

The only reason I had an influence on any student is because my teachers influenced me.  It's a chain reaction, and you are part of that chain.  

Small Acts Add Up

Recently, I read Drew Dyck's book, Just Show Up, and I have found its message so important that I keep buying copies and giving them away to people who either need to take its message to heart or already embody it.  

In it, Drew talks about the fact that we, as American Christians, are given a very performative message for our entire lives.  We are told that we are meant to save the world.  In churches with a politically conservative bent, phrases like "take back our country" and "culture warrior" are used.  More progressive churches tend to use words like impact, save, and justice.  But the message is the same.  We are meant to change the world.  But scripture doesn't talk about that.  It talks about faithfulness.  It talks about self-control.  It talks about local activity and taking care of family.  While Peter and Paul traveled extensively, most ancient Christians did not.  The point Drew makes is that if each of us, every one, were faithful in our own context, that would, in fact, change the world because we would all be effecting our part of it.  

This week, at a funeral, I was reminded of an example of this in action.  A family friend from the church I grew up in died from a massive stroke last week.  At his funeral, a middle-aged woman got up to speak.  Through tears, she talked about how this couple came and picked her up for church every week - Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night for years (not to mention special events, choir practice, and talent competitions).  After she moved out of her childhood home, they continued to pick up her mother every time she wanted to come to church.  A ride is a small thing, but the consistency with which they did it was anything but.  This girl got Christian community and Biblical training she would not have had if they had not been faithful in this small, local act.  

There are people with big needs in our world, and it is right that we address them.  But, when we do, it is often a one-time (or perhaps annual) fundraiser or service event.  Meanwhile, all around us are small but constant needs.  Needs for rides, for a place to stay, for electric bills, for car repair, for study help - needs for encouraging words or someone to sit with at lunch.  Look around, and you will see them.  

When the woman with the issue of blood reached out to touch the hem of Jesus' garment, He was on his way to the home of Jairus, to heal his daughter (and ultimately raise her from death).  He allowed Himself to be "distracted" by the common and unclean woman right in front of Him.  You may be on your way to do something big while passing by many other needs.  Don't move so fast that you cannot see and pause to meet those "smaller" needs around you.  Chances are that you will have more impact on the life of one person than you could ever have doing "something big."  If we all took care of the small needs around us, there would be fewer of the big needs.  This was the call of the early church, who "devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer" and who "sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need."  When they took care of each other consistently, they were "changing the world."  They were just doing it one family at a time.