Redrawing the Picture

This is the speech I gave for my school's capping ceremony a couple of weeks ago...

Parents, family, friends, administration, and most importantly - students in the class of 2014,

It is indeed an honor to be speaking in front of all of you.  This group holds a special place in my heart as I have had several "teaching firsts" with so many of you.  Some of you bared with me through my first attempt at teaching English I.  You patiently went along with me as I tried to get you excited about Romeo and his dear Juliet.  Many of you were in one of my first English II Honors classes.  A thank you is deserved for allowing me to make you my guinea pigs with projects and assignments and daybooks and new novels.  Some of you were in one of my favorite English II classes I have ever taught.  We rapped vocabulary and learned about how the ancient Medea connected with Tyler Perry's namesake.  We went through an earthquake together and you saved me (and didn't laugh too hard) when I fell off my wedges in a moment of teaching excitement.

However, ALL of you are to be celebrated here today at Rockingham County High School's first ever capping ceremony.  How cool is that?  I love being the first to experience things, and I think that this class with all your flair and smarts deserve to be celebrated in this special way.  Graduation is a time to be excited, capture memories, and hold on to them tight.

I'm also honored to stand here today because this is the ultimate "full circle" moment for me.  Almost exactly 10 years ago, I was in the very same position you all find yourselves.  I was getting ready to leave my hometown for a new adventure, set out on my own, and try to muddle my way through the next step in life.  10 years ago, on a warm football field, I threw my cap up in the air and had absolutely no idea what life was going to bring me in the next decade.  Think about it - can you picture yourself 10 years from now? What does it look like?

When I was in 8th grade, I remember finishing a test early.  We had been given a piece of scratch paper to cover up our answers...I don't think anyone uses this for its real purpose.  I, instead, decided to "map" out my future - as only a 13 year old girl can.  I even included cute little stick figures - it was indeed beautiful.  I sketched out my future, and it included graduating from high school, college, graduate school, meeting the man of my dreams (who happens to be extraordinarily wealthy) at 25, having my gorgeous wedding at 26, having the perfect child who never cries at 28, and so on and so forth until I had a little grandchild on my lap at 70.  Well, as of last week, I'm 28...and that picture hasn't exactly panned out as expected.

There is a little part of me..the OCD/type A part...that is really bothered by this fact.  I question what I did wrong to not have the picture I had so longingly dreamed of.  I feel like I did the checklist.  I went to school, did well, I've worked at my job for 6 years...so where is the rest of the picture?

But, when I stop and think about it, when I start getting all "woe is me", I realize that that map could have never included all the things that I HAVE done.  I didn't take into account that there would be trips across the Atlantic and US.  I didn't sketch in all the wonderful friends, students, colleagues, and new family members I would be graced with in my journey.  My picture changed, but that's okay.  That is indeed the way life is intended.

The picture you would draw for yourself today is likely to change.  That's one of the inevitable things you will learn in life.  The perfect drawing that you have in your mind might have to be modified, erased, or possibly torn up completely.  Look at that as a gift.

The important thing to know and do is not to hesitate to re-draw that picture.  Make some mistakes, but know that when you do, your picture is still coming into focus.  Life has this huge eraser that allows you to make the things that didn't work out, actually end up just fine.  The failed friendships and relationships allow new people to come into your life.  The missed opportunities that you feel slipped through your fingers will actually leave room for things that you could never yet imagine.

Draw the picture, have a plan, but have confidence and faith that when you're standing in front of the mirror ten years from now, that very picture might have developed into something kind of different.  Something even better.

I want to end with some wise words said by someone whom I've always looked up to.  Growing up, one of my favorite shows was "Boy Meets World".  Many of you have probably seen it in reruns.  In the very last episode, the main characters ask Mr. Feeny, one of their beloved teachers, for some final advice.  He had followed them throughout middle and high school and then even showed up in college...which I promise I will not be doing.  I love the advice he gives them.  He says, "Believe in yourselves, dream, try, do good."  Topanga, being the good English student, questions him and asks, "Don't you mean, do well?" "No," he answers, "Do good."  I pray each of you does "good" in this world.  Come back and show me the masterpiece you have ended up drawing for yourself.  I can't wait to see it.

#6

Every year, about this time, I'm thrust into moments of deep reflection.  I think about the past year of teaching, what I learned, who I learned it from, why it was important for me to learn, so on and so forth.

The first semester of this school year was the most challenging semester I've had in my six years of teaching.  I taught AP English Language and Composition for the first time.  A course that is challenging in many ways: writing, reading, discussing, and vocabulary.  Coming into the class for the first time, I knew there would be hardships, but I didn't expect them to affect me the way they did.

It wasn't until I was standing in front of my third period class sobbing over a mispronounced vocabulary word, that I knew it was hindering my teaching.  With tears streaming down my face, I quickly exited the class and ran to my friend Angela's classroom.  I cried to her, "I didn't know it was going to be this hard!  Why can't I do this?  I'm not smart enough for this!"  She gently assured me that it would indeed be okay.  This was a challenging course to teach, but I would make it through.  And I did...barely.  I'm not going to lie, I definitely had periods of time when I wanted to give up.  I felt stupid, unequipped in knowledge, and just inadequate.  I felt that I was hurting my students and their learning.  How in the world would I ever learn from a mess like this?

But...per usual...at some point, I realized that I could do this, I would push through, and defeat was simply not an option.

One of the reasons I think I struggled so much - other than the high level of class and feeling inadequate 95% of the time - was that I was also juggling several other balls.  I felt so stretched thin - which is the only time I can use the adjective thin to describe me.  I felt that I didn't know what to do.  I didn't feel like I was doing anything well.  I think, in reflection, I had to go through that.  I had to see that it is impossible for me to do everything perfectly.  Everything in life, especially in a career, takes time and practice.  My nagging sense of perfection gets in the way A LOT.

But, I'm learning.

Learning to say no.
Learning perfection doesn't exist.
Learning that I can only do what I can do.
Learning that it's more than teaching.
Learning that being there for my students is also important.
Learning that sometimes I can't do everything.
Learning that it's okay to feel inadequate sometimes.
Learning.

The second semester was a blessing from God.  I think He knew that I would quit teaching if I had another semester like the first one.  My classes during the second semester were ones I was comfortable with, ones I have taught again and again.  My students were well behaved and tried hard.  I finally had a chance to come up for air from the ocean that was drowning me during first semester.

Life teaches us lessons in a thousand different ways. We just have to be willing to learn.  And...I am.