Disheartened, I continue on with my tasks. Being a teacher is not an easy job by any means. There are days when life seems great, when I, as the teacher, make new discoveries and feel like I am soaring above the clouds. The next day might be one where I feel weighted down by a mist. I can’t see the light, don’t understand what I am doing here and have no clue where I am going. It’s silly. To think that tiny water droplets floating in the air could feel like a waterfall pounding on my head, keeping me underwater, forcing the air from my lungs, and all hope from my spirit.
“God!” I cry out. “This is not what I had planned! I don’t know where to go from here…” I feel stuck, but I have to go on teaching like nothing is wrong. I have to be the bad guy and the encourager at the same time. The strong current of the water is swirling me head over heels in the undertow.
“God, I thought I was finally getting to the point where I loved this job! What happened? Where did all these fears, worries and disappointments come from?” It was like I was caught in the rapids for a while, found a calm, gently moving river, then went over a 100-foot waterfall.
Sometimes the littlest things are the ones that force us out of the calm and over the edge. Today at lunch, one of my girls begged me to let them do something fun in class today. I try to make my class fun, while still accomplishing something. Like changing up their assignments and having them give me a summary of their reading for history in an acrostic of their choice. It had to be in complete sentences and detailed. But this same girl told me that her dorm mom said it looked like a kindergartener’s assignment. She also felt it her duty to inform me, “We discovered that you are easily distracted, so sometimes we try to do it on purpose.” Really? The day before yesterday my supervising teacher came into the room for an evaluation. I was excited for what we were doing that day and that she came in. Her comments the next day didn’t reflect the excitement I had hoped they would, which did little to help me stay afloat.
I live on praise and affirmation. I always say I am a solar being. I live off sunshine and flourish when others smile. I think at times I try to be superman and my way of saving people is to help them find hope or see their potential. My kryptonite is criticism or lack of positive energy. It knocks me to my knees and I drown in its presence. I cannot breathe, I cannot move, I cannot think. It is all I can do to keep the flood of tears from bursting forth or the torrent of emotions contained.
All those tiny droplets of water add up, and now I am being pummeled by a waterfall of mist from which I can see no escape.
