You Can't Save Them (at) All

I entered teaching at the age of 23 as an idealist, believing that if I did it right, every student would love learning, have enthusiasm about my class, and behave perfectly.  The education system eats people like that alive.  Go into a classroom with that expectation, and you will be shot down.  Get shot down too many times, and you will become jaded and cynical.  If that happens, leave the teaching profession immediately.  Go work in a bank, a factory, or a radio station.  Become a postal worker if you have to, but don't keep teaching.  Much damage is done by the cynical.

Fortunately, I had a great group of people around me, from fellow teachers to administrators.  They didn't dash my hopes and dreams, but they did teach me to have realistic expectations.  I'll never forget the time my principal, Mr. Matthews, sat down in my room on a teacher work day just to check in (this is the sign of a great administrator, by the way).  We chatted a little, and at some point in the conversation, he said, "You know you can't save them all.  I can see that in you."  Between those two sentences, I had already burst into tears.  I didn't know I had strong feelings about my ability to save every student from their drug use, abusive home, learning disability, or their own apathy.  He had seen this in me when I was too busy to see it in myself.  He reminded me that while it is great to have compassion for students, I could not take on all of their problems.  Other teachers set my perspective as well because even the best ones have some difficulties with classroom management or lack of student performance at some point.

Going into the classroom with a realistic expectation rather than an idealistic one is the reason I can still enjoy my job 17 years later.  If I had insisted on keeping my Mary Poppins view that my classes would be "practically perfect in every way," I would have quickly become disillusioned.  Having a realistic expectation means you can enjoy the positives and deal with the negatives without going on an emotional roller coaster.

I have been fortunate in my career that I have only had one year in which I couldn't have that kind of honesty with my superiors.  Mr. Matthews couldn't have been a better first principal for me to have.  No matter what happened in my classroom, he had a story about how the same things (or worse) had happened in his career.  I also had a great principal whose office I felt comfortable walking into and saying, "I have a question, but it may sound kind of rude."  to which she said, "Well, sometimes, you have to ask a rude question."  Last week, I cried through the end-of-year meetings with both of my administrators, was encouraged by both of them, and then went to lunch with them and a few other teachers.  Administrators who can make you better teachers while recognizing your growth are worth their weight in diamonds.  If you are lucky enough to work for one, don't give that job up for any amount of salary.

I have digressed from my original point.  Teachers face 25-125 students each day, depending on the grade level they teach.  Each of those students has something from which they would like to be saved.  For some it is trivial; they would like to be saved from the kid sitting next to them or their lunch that they don't like.  Others have truly serious problems which they have absolutely no power to solve.  If you take on your own shoulders the problems of even half of your students, trying to save them from everything they bring to school with them, it will cripple you.  You should pray for them (and with them, if you are able).  You should give them a safe place in your classroom.  You should get help for those in serious need, of course.  But do not fall into the trap of trying to "save them all."

Now that I work in a Christian school, I have yet another perspective on the conversation I had with Mr. Matthews.  Not only can I not save them all, I can not save any of them at all.  I am tasked by my calling to do my personal and professional best.  I am tasked by my school's mission statement to spiritually and academically equip, challenge, and inspire.  I am tasked by God to obey His Word and present the gospel to my students.  I am not tasked with saving them.  Only the blood of Christ can do that.  It is my honor to walk with some of my students on their redemption journey, but I cannot save them at all.