Does Our Teaching Purpose Become Invisible?
I had an opportunity to travel to Scottsdale to be a national expert for the Arizona Transition Conference. But I learned something from the breathtaking countryside.
Did I pay more attention to twitters of bird song and the caress of the gentle breeze because I stepped outside the stressors of my busy life? Was it because I took vacation time, that I became more aware? I inhaled the vivid colors of endless crowds of glowing sunflowers nodding to each other all the way back to the shadowed blue-grey goal post of the mountains.
We walked the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, and I found it hard to absorb the enormity of what rushing water had carved into unyielding stone. I trembled at the prospect of standing too near the edge, lest I tumble out of sight like the tiny pebble that I am in the universe. Then we hiked in Sedona, the sun warming the backs of our necks and glinting off red sandstone rocks, demanding mere mortals to squint in their presence. Through sunglasses, I marveled at the tenacity of the tiny tree clinging to the top of the precipice.
I wondered what it would be like to live here with these awe inspiring surroundings. Do you become so accustomed to nature’s spectacles that you don’t see them anymore?
But sometimes, I admit, I’m guilty of that. I rush out of my house and forget to absorb my backyard garden oasis. It is probably natural to start taking nature’s gifts for granted.
Is that what happens to teachers when they fall into the routine of teaching day in and day out?
Do they rush into classrooms and begin teaching the topic of the day without stopping to appreciate the amazing beings that are sitting right there in front of them? Do they forget that each youth lives only 12% of his time in school each year? Each one has a fragile budding dream of future possibilities. How many will share stories of classroom events around the dinner table? How many will go home to empty apartments? How many don’t know where they will spend the night? How many are involved with outside groups that will lead them down paths unlikely to end well? Do teachers forget that teenagers crave acceptance and acknowledgement?
For many students, one comment can ignite an inner glow or close the blinds, shutting down willingness to learn.
Teachers may forget about the impact they have on young lives every day. So easily we lose sight of our humanity and the priceless value of connections. The opportunity may become invisible to them. But I can see. I know they entered the profession with a heartfelt commitment to make a difference with children. And I will remind them to pause a moment to see that they do – everyday.
