Your purpose in life is to find your purpose and give your whole heart and soul to it.
Educators are amazing people. They have the ability to spark the curiosity and imagination of their learners. They can make a learner feel that they are capable of amazing things (which is true, in case you were wondering). Conversely, they have the ability to reduce a learner to anxiety and feelings of inadequacy, or hate learning. Which type of educator do you want to be? Why did you enter education? What brings you joy in the work? It all comes back to the why.
The end of the school year always gives me pause. Reflecting over this past year is an important part of the process. What went well? What didn’t? What could I do better? Where did I fall short? What opportunities did I miss? What was learned? Sometimes, this can leave one with feelings of shame and guilt for not being enough.
If you’ve read Brene Brown’s Book Dare to Lead, you’ll know where I’m going with this. There’s a section of the book where she talks about sitting in the dining room completely overwhelmed. Her husband walks into the kitchen looking for some ham. When he verbalizes there is no ham, she internalizes this to mean it’s her fault that there’s no ham, which continues into a spiral of shame and feelings of inadequacy. She’s literally in her “downstairs brain” while this is happening.
We all can have this happen to ourselves- myself included. When we are operating in our “downstairs brain”, we are really not at our best selves. We can misinterpret. We’re stressed. We don’t respond well to things. The end of the school year can easily lend itself to a journey right to the downstairs brain. Which is why it’s vital to get back to the center. It’s imperative to get back to the why. What is your why for being an educator? What inspires and motivates you? What was the first thing that made you say “Hey! I want to get into the education game!” If you answer summer vacation, know there’s no judgement, but I’d like to invite you to dig a little deeper.
For me, my why began when I was 5 years old. Here’s a picture of the 5 year old me on my first day of Kindergarten:
The year was somewhere in the 1970’s where students with disabilities were in schools were first allowed to go to school. EAHCA (now IDEA) was newly enacted. My elementary school had a class for learners with disabilities- in the basement- in the back- which always perplexed me. I always wondered why if they were allowed to go to school why didn’t they have a room like mine?
My mother was an educational technician in this classroom. She would transport students to school in her bright yellow Volkswagen Super beetle. We would ride together and sing songs and talk. I always wondered why they didn’t ride the bus with us but I chalked it up to the fact that maybe they didn’t like the bus because I DEFINITELY did not like the bus!
While I was in kindergarten, I would often fake being ill, having a stomachache, or claim to miss my mom so that I could go down to the basement. I would often bring my work with me and do my work alongside the learners- some who were as old as 17. (Remember, it was the 1970’s- things were a lot different then).
My friends would often ask me why I would ever want to go downstairs to see “those kids”. I never understood this either, because why WOULDN’T I go downstairs to see “those kids”? Furthermore, “those kids” had names. Jimmy, Terri, Scott. “Those kids” matter. “Those kids” are valued and respected. “Those kids” are human beings. That’s why.
As I grew up, I would always go to see “those kids”. I’d go out to recess and we would play and talk. At home, I’d practice teaching with my Barbie dolls and record myself- then listen to it and endlessly critique how I did and try to improve. In high school, I would work with Special Olympics and coach athletes. I suppose it’s always just been a part of me. I do know it’s a huge part of my why.
Everyone, regardless of ability, race, orientation, size, gender matter. Everyone deserves to know that they matter. To have the opportunity to realize their true potential. It’s our job as educators to do that. It’s our job to empower- not to force complicity. It’s our job to help us come together and support each other. Our true humanity lies in our diversity.
Educators- remember your why. Remember what brings you joy. Remember that a spark can lead to learning that will impact a life forever. Empower yourselves to do what’s right. Empower your learners to be kind, inclusive, supportive, inquisitive, creative, and curious. Love and support each other- even when we don’t agree on the ways to educate our learners. Remember why you chose this profession.