Teacher's... Life's Best Medicine

At times things that my children go through cause me to reflect back upon my own experience.  Everyone, I think, has had a teacher that changes the course that we were heading.  Those teachers may not have been the top of the evaluation charts but they made our lives better.  Sometimes we forget that kids have a lot to face on a daily basis and many challenges to overcome.  They live with their inner voice telling them that they aren’t as good, that they aren’t very smart, that they are incapable socially or scholastically.  Whatever the inner voice is saying, there are times in which someone can make a difference for them because they see them for the brilliance that is in them.  Teachers like that, appreciate what makes kids special even when others are too busy to see it.

As a mom there have been times when I send my child out the door and get on my knees for them.  I pray that they will be watched over and looked out for.  I pray that the hardships that I have been made aware of will diminish because someone will be insightful enough to save them.  And my prayers have been answered.  Most often it has been a teacher.  I am not sure if teachers realize that they have the potential to save children from the chaos of the world.  Currently one of my children has a teacher that allows this child to be exactly who they are.  And because of that it has made me think back.

My elementary school years were interesting because there was a lot I was dealing with and I am unable to explain all of it but I wanted to share a piece.  Kindergarten through 2^nd grade I was partially deaf and couldn’t see really well.  My parents wanted my mind to have all that school had to offer so they put me into a French immersion program.  I’m sure that they thought and saw my potential and knew I could do it, but my hearing issues and sight problems hadn’t been made aware to them yet.  It wasn’t until I was in 2^nd grade when my mom sat down to chat with me and I told her it was difficult to hear the teacher when she turned and faced the chalk board.  Upon further investigating I told her it was difficult to hear because I couldn’t see her lips.  My mom was initially confused… Why would seeing her lips make it hard to hear?... and then it all clicked.  I was taken to the doctor and a while later had an operation that would give me the ability to hear.  In that same conversation I expressed the difficulty to see both up close and far way.  So yes, I was both near sighted and far sighted so bifocals, at the young age of 7, would become my friend.

How I had made it this far still baffles my mind.  I had decided that I was stupid and now I was also a dork.  This combination was a sad reality.  I was way behind the others in my class and I was doing the best I could but the dots were not connecting in my brain.  2 years later my parents decided that it was time to take me out of French immersion.  But in my mind I had resolved that it was too late, I was a lost cause.  And then I was transferred into Mrs. Turner’s class.  She was a tall black lady who could be viewed to some as intimidating.  She was a no nonsense kind of teacher but I knew what her expectations were and I feared that I would fall short.  She however, didn’t let that inner voice that I had gotten so used to, take over.  She saw my potential.  She had confidence in me and I knew that she loved me… and I loved her.  Thinking back on it now brings tears to my eyes.  That was my most successful year; not because I had the best grades of the class, not because I skyrocketed in expanding my mind to the wonders of learning but because it was the year that I had a teacher that believed in me and saw me for who I was.  Because of this I began to grow with in me the self confidence that I needed.  It was because of Mrs. Turner that I learned to never give up.  I learned that hard work feels good.  I don’t know if Mrs. Turner is still around.  I don’t know if she was ever given any awards or praise for the teacher she was but I wish I could let her or her children, see into my life a little so she or they would know that she has not only changed my course but generations.  I will pay it forward with my children and hopefully they too will with theirs.  Thank you Mrs. Turner of Wes Hosford Elementary School in Sherwood Park Canada!

This post is a bit different than my other posts...

While learning right and wrong little children amaze me with there ability to piece the puzzles of life together.  They aren't bound by the same red tape that we are as adults and I sometimes feel like they don't get credit for there individual ability to problem solve when it comes to social settings.  If a child states their feelings about a topic and another disagrees they can still be the best of friends even though.  But when parents try to "fix" issues it, at times, can cause bigger problems when the solution could have been much more simple.  I have seen it again and again.  Our job is more of a guide to help them have confidence in their own choice.  That way they gain the power to discern.  

Now, I don't have a degree so I know that by writing this I may be subject to criticism but my feelings are overwhelming at this time in my life.  I am so sad; so sad because the world is full of much confusion.  Because of this confusion it causes contention and much anger.  With the entire world constantly changing in different directions the only comfort I find is that my God is consistent.  That consistency brings peace to my heart and a love that I can’t describe. 

This leads to the fact that I love people.  People studies, is something I find interesting.  Trying to see the perspective of others is a puzzle piecing game that I find challenging, frustrating, and insightful.  Perspectives are never wrong. The way people see things is what they truly believe.  From these perspectives choices are made.  Some I agree with and some I don’t.  Those choices don’t define my love for the individual but I have been born with judgment.   Judgment is very different than being judgmental.  I have to have judgment to make choices; what I wear, what I choose to eat, and how I decide to live my life are just a few examples.  Everyone does it.  Being judgmental would be finding myself better than others.  I don’t feel that way.  I feel like life is hard.  I enjoy life but making judgment every day is difficult, so others choices aren’t concerning to me (except for my kids;-).

Because of these perspectives I found it difficult to wrap my brain around the constantly revolving battle with same sex marriage.  I love people and I want them to be happy but I can’t ignore the fact that I love my God more.  I know that there are many arguments that could come from this statement and that is not why I write this.  I write this to give others a perspective that I hold higher than anything else.  When I watch the TV and I see both sides battling each other it makes me sad to see.  I don’t want to cause more contention but I also can’t stay silent.  My God has never changed.  My God has stayed constant.  My God created a sacred opportunity to be married man and wife.  That has never changed from the beginning of time. 

Do I have people in my life that are fighting for this liberty? Yes, and I love them.  I love them for who they are.  I love them for the joy they bring to my life.  But I don’t have to love the choice.  Because I love my God I feel the need to protect what He and I hold as sacred.  I am sorry if this brings to you anger because anger is not the way I wrote this.  I wrote this with love because I truly do love people.  This is simply a perspective…