Monday, May 12, 2014

What is screaming your name? Life Callings, the Confused, the Complacent, and Others.

"It wasn’t until a few years later that someone pointed out to me an interesting fact: the root of the English word vocation is the Latin verb voca, which means “to call.” The linguistic evidence shows that at some point in history, people thought of every type of work as a “calling.” Whether you are a minister or a mechanic, you do not work because it pays the bills, or because it’s personally fulfilling, or because it justifies the money you spent on college tuition. You work because it glorifies God." 

 --Bob Thune, Campus Crusade Staff     

The above quote has been (electronically) stuck in the corner of my computer for several years via the "Stickies" app. I have wanted to teach for as long as I can remember. I wanted to teach literature to everyone and anyone. I wanted to read books and sip my Starbucks hot lattes with young scholars. That was a decade ago, when I dreamed about a nameplate with "Dr." etched into it. I still want to teach but for all the different reasons. The Lord tugged on my heart strings and showed me inequality in schools that makes me angry and fired-up and passionate. Angry, passion, excitement that is what callings cultivate. As I am so often asked, "Why did you spend money at UNC and Duke just to be a teacher?"My family gloats with pride about being the first person in my immediate family to graduate from  college, yet I cannot count the times I have heard "Don't you want to do something that makes more money. You will never be successful teaching." If you are interested in the even more brutally honest enlist the opinions of high school students, "Mrs. Martinez, you poor?" God placed me in uncomfortable places. He started demanding why would you want to teach if the end goal is a book? He started pushing and pulling on my motives. I needed to love students, empathize with students, celebrate with students. Perfecting content is 10% of what matters in a classroom. Kids can sniff out a fraud from a mile away. If you don't care about their success, about their lives when they step out of your room, about their brilliance then you are not going anywhere quickly amidst charismatic, cranky, colorful teens. No. My dream stopped being teaching and my calling became teaching. I cannot imagine doing the most exhausting job in the world with the most important people in the world if it were not a calling. 
Instead God revealed to me it might be time I started practicing what I preached. If I proclaim loving my neighbor then the 90+ kids I see daily better feel more loved than Netflix on date night. If I believe God's words, "Do justice and righteousness" then I need to find the schools and the students and the parents who need me as their advocate. And if Jesus says, "Go" then I need to transform my workplace into a place where I foster love to the unloved and shine a light even on days when an IV of coffee is not energizing me. Callings aren't always green acres and butterflies--callings are messy, scary, and unknown territories. Thankfully, God is good. Also, thankfully God creates a kingdom full of talents. Each person is called to honor and glorify Christ, that looks so different for everyone. I pray I continue to be intentional in my calling. I pray I do not judge others with big salaries because they surely are not following their callings. I pray that others realize more than missionaries have important work to do. God wants, deserves, and craves our very best not our comfort.

I mean, you’re a teacher, Taylor.
Be honest. What do you make?
And I wish he hadn’t done that— asked me to be honest—
because, you see, I have this policy about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, then I have to let you have it.
You want to know what I make?
I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor
and an A-­ feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time
with anything less than your very best.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won’t I let you go to the bathroom?
Because you’re bored.
And you don’t really have to go to the bathroom, do you?

I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
Hi. This is Mr. Mali. I hope I haven’t called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something your son said today.
To the biggest bully in the grade, he said,
“Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don’t you?
It’s no big deal.”
And that was noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

I make parents see their children for who they are
and what they can be.
You want to know what I make? I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write.
I make them read, read, read.
I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful
over and over and over again until they will never misspell
either one of those words again.
I make them show all their work in math
and hide it on their final drafts in English.
I make them understand that if you’ve got this,
then you follow this,
and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this.
Here, let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
Teachers make a goddamn difference! Now what about you?
-Taylor Mali 

No comments:

Post a Comment