Well guys, I went to Catholic school, so there’s that. My third grade teacher was amazing, and I know this because this was supposed to be a bummer of a grade for me: I was the quiet girl who had to sit next to the “bad kid” the whole year (he was actually pretty nice but really impulsive.) Even so, I have the BEST memories of third grade, especially of my teacher reading to us in the afternoon–chapter after chapter of The BFG or James and the Giant Peach. I would sit at my desk, utterly content, just listening and relaxing. And in the midst of my small but crazy third-grade life, I felt like I was in the safest of safe havens.
Home. Isn’t that what all of us want to experience? Yes, our greatest yearning for heaven is, at its heart, a longing for home, that place so intimate and familiar that we can practically close our eyes and be there. And I would argue that the Catholic school is, at its heart, a little taste of the conventional home that so many of our students lack today. It is a place where they can become the happiest and holiest versions of themselves, both on earth and someday in heaven. After all, heaven is the goal of Catholic schools, and nothing less. Every student of a Catholic school is simultaneously at home and “on the way home”, as is every teacher.
Home became real for me as a brand new high school teacher one day when one of my students, a roughTennessee mountain boy who always had mischief in his eyes, started trying to learn. Before, he had flirted or avoided or slacked, but this time he was actually making an effort. I thought back to when I was preparing to administer a practice ACT to him and his classmates a few weeks earlier, and I knew exactly what was going to happen: Jim, we’ll call him, would “Christmas tree” the entire test and be finished in a mere half hour, then spend the rest of the time sleeping or annoying his peers. I recalled that he’d mentioned turkey farming as a hobby (not a shocker in east Tennessee), and so in an effort to placate him, I printed off profiles of different kinds of turkeys for him to read through after he finished his holiday-themed “test” the next day. True to form, Jimmy exerted almost zero effort, but he did read the packet I nonchalantly dropped on his desk afterwards. And he loved it. This led to many conversations about his life outside of school, which eventually led to openness to learn in school. At the end of the year, I received the most sincere “thank you” I’d ever imagined could come out of the lips of a hardened seventeen-year-old. Somehow Jimmy found a home in my classroom, and all I wanted to do was to open this home to more and more teens.
What about you? In Revelations 2:4, the Lord warns us against forgetting our first love. I’ve found that I often get discouraged when I forget the “whys” for what I do. So why are you a Catholic school teacher? What was your “first love” about this vocation/profession? Leave a comment below, then take time today to grab a coffee or iced tea and journal for a few minutes. Save the entry for more trying days ahead.