To Reflect, or Not Reflect...

"Last published on April 11, 2014."

Those words have haunted me.

I have only recently (March 2015) gone back and read some of my posts that not only captured what I was feeling and dealing with last year, but actually helped me through those times. Those posts meant so much to me, first for what I was reflecting on from my classroom, but also because they helped me process all I was experiencing. The joy, the wonder, the pain, the struggle.

Now, close to a year has gone by without an update or an explanation of either how the year ended, or why there has been such an absence of posts.

So the dilemma of "to reflect or not" is indeed the question.

Or perhaps it's more about "details or no details."

How about results rather than details?

The reality, my reality, was that I left school in late June totally broken. I was exhausted physically and emotionally from a year with many highs and many lows with my students. Yet what occurred in my classroom was not what broke me.

It was everything else.

I was broken by the number of times I walked down the halls feeling that I needed to be ready to defend the changes that I made or strategies I used in my classroom. I was broken by the number of times I actually did have to defend those things. I was broken by rumors, comments, behaviors, and a host of other things that came from stepping out and trying something new and different.

I spent a great deal of effort this summer trying to forget and to move on. I would say I was only marginally successful. To be totally honest, I played out scenarios in my mind when I would confront those who had the negative things to say about me and I would defend my choices and give passionate speeches about Learning vs. Teaching, about Meeting Student Needs vs. Unquestioned Traditions, about Compassion and Grace vs. Strict Adherence to Rules. I was passionate, I remained respectful, I was articulate, I was applauded afterwards.

I was also dreaming.

It is easy to come up with the right thing to say when you are sitting on a lawnmower thinking about it. It is quite another to know how, when, or if to respond in reality.

I wish I could say that I spent more time reflecting on the incredible successes that my students experienced last year, or how they grew so much as learners, or the incredibly supportive and encouraging comments from parents and some colleagues. I wish I could say I extended the same grace to adults that I try so hard to extend to students.

But I can't.

It was a "Glass Is Half Empty" kind of summer.

It kills me to admit that. I lost all positivity and allowed the actions and words of others to define my outlook on myself. What's worse, I was quick to judge, quick to become angry, and slow to forgive.

But that happens, right? I spend everyday in a middle school afterall.

***

Three days before school started this fall, I reached something that, while it can't be called "peace," was in the ballpark of "acceptance." Yes. Three days before school. As a result, I entered the year at about 50% of my usual passion, excitement, and energy level.

It's been a difficult journey with more opposition than I care to mention.

But let me fast forward through all of that because I don't want to add to the mess.

I reached a point a few weeks ago, while emailing a friend and colleague, when it hit me. Even as I wrote, I wasn't exactly sure what the next line would be, only that it was important that I say it, and more important that I do it.

I wrote the words, "So think on this, my friend..." and knew that something was about to happen. Here is an excerpt from the email that not only vaguely summarizes the cause of absence of posts, but more importantly outlines a plan that I hope will lead to healing.

So, think on this, my friend. This is a battle that will keep going whether we lay down our arms, or raise them to attack and defend. I believe that peace is possible in our own hearts even in the midst of the most hellish circumstance provided we lay our weapons down and choose that peace. It is a peace we will never know if we continue to raise our weapons, take aim, and either prepare or actually fire. In many ways it saddens me that there are those who will never know peace. I want to make the choice that will breathe life into me and into my class.

I choose peace.

This is the hard choice as it is counter to our nature, yet it is the choice that leads to life. There is no other way. I must lay down my right to attack or defend. My hope is that I can do this. I know I've got a better chance if I'm not the only one. What do ya say? Join me?

And so today, close to a year after my last post, I put it down in writing that I choose forgiveness and grace. I choose to focus on my students. I choose to lay down my right to defend. I choose to draw my self-worth from within rather than from without.

I choose peace.