Dancing Branflakes asked her readers what they are passionate about.
My answer came quickly: my students.
There's so much I love about being a teacher. Even some of the more day-to-day things are fulfilling: keeping a routine, creating schedules, writing technical documents. These appeal to the organizational side of my brain. I love speaking in front of others, explaining, even re-explaining ideas. I get to watch learning as it happens! Who else gets to do that, besides teachers and parents? It's astounding. I love my co-workers, and treasure my aide, who is a true team player.
But my students are why I'm there. I know God has called me to serve them, for they truly are "the least of these". They are the ones I'm passionate about. I care about how they act, what they're learning, and what skills I can give them. I try to be their advocate when and where I can. They make my frustrated, but gosh darn, do they make me laugh. I try to take joy in them everyday.
Lately, though, I've been struggling, as I watch these kids that I care about get into less than ideal situations. When our residential students move back home, it isn't always for the best. Sometimes funding runs out. And when that happens, sometimes they aren't ready. Sometimes their parents aren't ready. Sometimes they're moving to neighborhoods with few resources, and a lot of trouble. And there's nothing I can do. It hurts to watch them walk away, knowing I could have done more... if I only had time! I feel like I'm sending them off with nothing. I want the lessons I taught to stick, but I know they're probably not going to. It's hard to hope for something good to come of it. It's easy to say you have hope, to say you trust God will take care of them... it's another to really believe it.
If and when these students get sent away, I'm not their teacher anymore.
I'm just another adult, praying for them.
Praying there's another me somewhere.
Another teacher, another advocate who cares enough about these kids to fight for them.
Tell me about your passions.