A 2001-2002 class reunion at Pizza Factory.
In church today we discussed helping the poor. We talked briefly about what we do in situations where the homeless are asking us for money. Lessons like these always remind me of an experience that I had when I was a young teacher. I wanted to share this story today in class, but I was afraid it would take too much time, so I thought I would write out my thoughts here. It’s long, but I hope you don’t mind.
My first year of
teaching I was an intern- given half pay and the final credits for the last
portion of my education at BYU. It was an incredible year and my sixth
grade class at Grandview Elementary fulfilled every dream I had of what
teaching would be all about. I felt connected to them, I felt like I meant
something to them, they meant the world to me. At the end of that school
year I graduated and was jobless. The school I interned for didn't have
room for me. I put in applications and was asked for three interviews.
Just getting an interview was a huge deal in Utah Valley - oftentimes
there were up to 80 applicants for one opening.
My first interview was
at the school down the street, nearly the same demographic as the school I
interned for- Low to middle class. It went well, but the principal chose someone
who had already been working at the school part-time. My second interview
was at a school in the downtown area -- a very old building serving low-income
families. The school had the highest rates of free and reduced lunches in
the county. The interview went well and the principal seemed very
interested and offered to show me up to the classrooms. I met the current
teachers and saw my potential classroom. I pictured myself there with the
big windows and the long radiator and the high ceilings.
We walked back down
the stairs to his office where he asked if I had any other interviews. I
told him that I had one the next day at Canyon
Crest Elementary. His response:
"Well, if you are looking for fancy presents from your students, go
ahead".
I was shocked.
Canyon Crest had a great reputation. Was it one of the more
affluent areas in the county? Yes.
Did they have a stellar principal that I really admired and wanted to
work for? Yes. The downtown school principal mentioned that he
had more interviews that afternoon but that he would be making his decision
that evening and would let me know one way or another.
He called me that
evening and offered me the job. He said that the kids at his school could
really use a teacher like me. I remember thinking, like me? What --
someone who cares about them? Don't all kids need that? I told him
I wanted to interview the next day at Canyon Crest and then let him know.
He said he needed to know that night. I asked him to give me an
hour or so to think about it.
I was so torn.
Here I was, offered a job, but a job I wasn't sure about and for some
reason didn't feel right about. I hesitantly called back and thanked him
for the offer but told him that I didn't think it was going to work for me. I
couldn't believe what I was saying. He seemed genuinely shocked and reacted by
saying, "You know, these are the kinds of kids that need a good teacher
like you. I suppose you need the fancy presents and if you do, I wish you
luck in getting them." I know. pathetic. I cried a little that
night to dave, but felt I made the right decision.
I had a good interview
at Canyon Crest, but I didn't get the job. Darn those eggs all in that basket. Once again the job went to someone
who had worked there, part time. I was jobless and it
was now summer. I was tormented by my decision to give up that downtown job.
I ended up getting a
last minute job as a long-term substitute at Rock Canyon Elementary, nearly the
same demographic as Canyon Crest and conveniently located a few blocks from
where I was living. My experience there was incredible. I loved my
principal, my fellow teachers, my students. I had students from all walks of
life. At one point I had a student that literally lived with her family
in a car down by the river and I had a student who had a beverage dispenser in
her home that was filled with chocolate milk, regular milk and hi-c. I
ended up getting hired on as a full time sixth grade teacher and teaching there
for three years. (the job went to someone who had worked there part time :)
What that man told me
never left me. It never left me when I saw a student of mine go to jail.
It never left me when I saw a group of boys bullying to the point of threatened
expulsion. It didn't leave me when I saw eating disorders and broken
homes and full-on neglect. It didn't leave me when I saw students trapped
in special education classes while their spirits slowly died. Or kids dealing
with major anxiety issues or finding out they have type 1 diabetes or brain
tumors or that their dad was cheating on their mom. I remembered his
words when I found out some former students got into hard-core drugs and were in big trouble. His words echoed when a student from
the affluent high school my kids were fed into committed suicide.
I didn't need fancy
presents. I did need to make a difference and I didn't feel like
"poor kids" had a monopoly on needing help and having good teachers.
In fact, the idea ticked me off. I knew with all of my heart that
kids all over the spectrum needed someone that cared about them, that believed
in them, that loved them.
I recently read a
really great parenting book written by two therapists. Something that
they mentioned was that the opposite of dysfunction is dysfunction. In
their description, a toddler who is allowed to rule the household by doing
whatever they want is dysfunctional just as a child who grows up in a home of
complete rigidity and obedience to authority is dysfunctional. Both scenarios
cause dysfunction. As we talked today in church about helping the poor I
couldn't help but think this same thought.
The opposite of poor
is poor.
Mother Teresa said, "The
world today is hungry not only for bread but hungry for love; hungry to be
wanted, to be loved…the hunger for love is much more difficult to
remove than the hunger for bread”
I
think that when we begin to categorize the people that are worthy of our
service and our love, we miss the point. When we begin to look at the
wealthy as not needing our love because they have everything that they need, we
buy into the lie that money equals happiness. I am not ignoring the fact
that money can equal opportunity in life, I am fully aware of that, and that
money can oftentimes become a barrier in life's pursuits. But money is
not happiness. Love is happiness.
And I think we all know that there are plenty of people in this world
with money that are obviously not happy and possibly not loved.
I do
not carry cash very often anymore. I guess debit cards do that to you.
When I happen upon someone asking for money and I don’t have any I always
try to do the thing that I think is the most important at that moment in time.
I look them in the eye. I say hello. I ask them how they are.
I recognize that they are there. I do not ignore them. When I
see a business man dressed up in a suit holding some important satchel I always
try to do the thing I think is most important. I look him in the eye.
I say hello. I ask him how he is. I recognize that he is
there. I do not ignore him.
There is no one on earth that we should ignore.
We can all be poor, we can all be hungry. We are all worthy to be
loved and to be fed by acts of charity and kindness no matter our temporal wealth. We may just find out that the saddest souls we have known aren't
the ones on the corner asking for food, but the ones offering you food by
gifting you a $50 gift card to Outback wrapped up for Christmas.
