I would like to begin by saying that my intent in writing this is not to bash any person, any school, or any system. I am writing to shed light on the harsh realities of my career, which has now included 8 years in 3 schools in both the private and public sector. The realities are the same for each.
48 hours ago, I was arriving at school for my last day with students. My plan for the day was to give my final exam to one last class, make a few parent contacts, collect some signatures on my sign-off sheet, and then kill time with some adult coloring since I had completed all I could at that point. About an hour and a half later, that all changed.
In the high-stakes world of education, a teacher without tenure can easily be non-renewed without explanation. I was the victim of that this week. And before you say, "Well that's what's wrong with tenure; it keeps good teachers out of a job," please know that I have seen and worked with just as many fantastic tenured teachers as excellent non-tenured ones. That's simply the nature of the beast in the world in which I work. I have witnessed teachers who earn their tenure thrive just as much as I have seen others receive their tenure and begin phoning it in. Also know that tenure is not job security. There are teachers who receive tenure that get mistreated to the point of packing it up just as often.
It would be one thing if I were frequently called into the front office for meetings about my job performance not meeting expectations, but that did not happen. I was under the impression that I was doing the job well enough to return next year. In fact, others in supervisory roles over me were under the same impression and were just as shocked as I was that I received that infamous letter of non-renewal. (Side bar: Why do we call it a pink slip when I've never gotten one that's pink?) In fact, parents of students often praised me to my supervisors and one had even gone so far as telling me she was going to try to request me for her next child who would be coming through the high school next year.
To summarize what followed: shock, phone calls to my moving team (shout out to my wonderful wife & fabulous fil for all of their help), packing, and saying goodbye to what I thought was home. Several tears were shed, both out of anger and sorrow. But I packed my toys and headed home. I can hang my hat on the fact that countless colleagues stopped me and told me that I would be missed, that I am a great teacher, and that I always did my job the right way - with integrity. Sometimes it really is the small things.
As a colleague and dear friend asked earlier in the week, "We are told to give feedback, provide strugglers extra help and communicate if in danger of failing. Shouldn't we offer the same to teachers?" One would think that if we expect our students to get this courtesy, our teachers should get the same. So why do we invite teachers to teach 3 different courses in their first year in a building - which means preparing countless lessons, materials, assessments, interventions, and the like - and never intervene if they are in danger of failure? Y'all, I have had colleagues in my building observe me for my techniques. I am halfway to be a Nationally Board Certified Teacher. I am really really good at my job. Why do we send administrators into the classroom to observe and offer feedback that is overall very positive and then non-renew these teachers without the knowledge of the observers? Why are we expected to share our hard work and lessons with other teachers in our subject-area-PLC without their having to work for it? How are some of these same people still around? Who do they know that I don't? Why do we pit teachers against each other into the "in club" and everyone else? These are the questions I have been pondering for the last 2 days.
So here I am, involuntarily searching for a job for the second time in thirteen months. Sometimes this adulting thing is entirely overrated. Here's how you can pray specifically for me and my family: (1) that doors would be opened for interviews with principals, (2) for favor on those interviews, and (3) for discernment for me as I sift through job offers. I want to be in the center of God's will, but I selfishly also want to earn my tenure so I don't have to do this song and dance annually. And guys, let's pray for the state of education. If we want to reform things and be on the forefront of things globally, perhaps we should change the way we value and treat our educators.
Saturday, May 28, 2016
Sunday, May 8, 2016
to our birth mother
It's Mother's Day, and you are heavy on my heart today. I wonder what kind of emotions you are experiencing today, and in spite of the joy of this day, my heart breaks for you. You made the bravest choice you could make when you chose to place your baby with us as his forever family. Today my wife celebrates her first Mother's Day, and I rejoice in the joy of parenting with her.
I only know your first name, I've never seen your face, & I've never heard your voice. Yet we share the most special of bonds in this little life the Lord has entrusted to us. But there are so many things I want to ask you, namely what do you want us to tell our son about you? I want to tell you that he is a long, lean snuggle bug who hates sleeping on his back and is adjusting to a swaddle after some time.
Above all, I want to tell you that he is loved. He is fiercely loved by his parents, his grandparents, his aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and even strangers who've only seen him once. Everyone who meets him tells us how beautiful he is and how he looks so peaceful and happy.
I want to tell you that he was dedicated to the Lord on this Mother's Day. We committed to raise him in a way that will show him Jesus from an early age and to be the Godly examples he needs. He is a precious gift who would not be in our lives were it not for you.
We have prayed for you daily during our adoption process, and we continue to pray specific things over you by name today. It has been such an honor to pray for this little life & for your life as well - who you are becoming, your relationship with the Lord, your relationship with your family.
Today, I pray that you realize how brave you are, that you are loved by your Heavenly Father, and I pray that your heart is full. I pray that you know how valuable you are to this family and. I pray that he never loses sight of the fact that your intense love for him gave him and us what we needed the most - each other. I pray that we can honor you in the choices we make. And I pray that you are at peace with a decision that had to be difficult beyond belief.
"I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord." - 1 Samuel 1: 27 - 28
Sunday, May 1, 2016
dad life
Y'all. I'm a dad. As in I have a son. I am one of 2 humans responsible for the well-being of this tiny human. And hey hey, we've all remained safe & sound for 18 days now! Score one for the home team. It still hasn't sunk in that this is all real.
A little over 2 weeks ago, we were traveling to another state to meet this ball of life for the first time. I'll spare you the histrionics of that meeting, but a summary of the emotions can be described as such: nervousness, shock, fear, elation, tears, joy, tears, more fear, tears, and the reality that this is what we've worked for. {Also, more tears.}
Then reality began to sink in, so we did what any normal Millennial couple does: head to Target! Strangely in spite of all we packed, we didn't bring formula. {Praise the Lord for those specials they run where you buy 15 of one product to get a $2 gift card!} We were in a hotel for the first few nights that we were out of state, which is an experience on its own - an even more stressful one when you're carrying a newborn with you.
Our first night included, but was not limited to: multiple attempts at cosleeping because the bassinet just wasn't cutting it, several trips to the conference room on the first floor as to not disturb our neighbors, and a 2 AM Wal-Mart run for gripe water {and an impulse purchase of those amazing month-by-month stickers shaped like neckties} in my pajamas. Regardless of locale, the clientele at the Mart is always intriguing at that hour. He eventually settled into a routine in the hotel before we had to move to the camper, which turned out to be his 4th new home in fewer than 3 weeks.
{Side note in our travels: whoever drew the roads in the state to which we traveled must have been inebriated. Too many twists and turns when a straight line would have been sufficient. And for the love, why would someone make a sharp turn as you crest a steep hill in the woods?}
The camper proved to be the toughest place to stay, even though it was filled with our things, our food, our comforts. Being confined to that small of a space was exhausting. With each passing day, the walls seemed to cave in. We were free to leave the camper, but we were in an unfamiliar area with a newborn, so our options were limited. We ventured out on occasion, but we mainly stayed inside while we waited for the all-clear to head home.
When a child is adopted across state lines, both the birth state and the eventual home state have to communicate and grant approval through the ICPC process. We learned that our packet was headed to our home state within 36 hours of our meeting our son, so we were hopeful that we would get the all clear much sooner than the initial 2-3 week window that we were initially told to anticipate. I was granted a short leave for work, so there would have been a point at which I had to come home regardless, even if that meant my family was not with me.
We knew that Friday was our absolute deadline for having our prayers answered, and as Thursday afternoon rolled around, we began to get antsy. We reached out to our social worker and learned of some specific hangups that I will not mention here for the sake of my family's privacy and safety. But we took to social media to ask our friends to pray for this specific thing, and boom, that piece of the puzzle was in place by the end of the working day. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for our friends who interceded with us. I was humbled by God's goodness.
Friday came, and my anxiety was at its peak. Would it happen? Would the pieces fall into place as needed? Would we have to go grocery shopping again? {Guess what? We did. I won't spoil it. I promise.} In my anxiousness, I pulled out my adult coloring because I didn't have another good book to read with me, and I needed to soothe myself. When I finished my picture, I posted it on instagram with an anxiety-related caption. A dear Godly friend commented "It's happening. TODAY!" I later asked her if that was a specific word that she received from the Lord for us or whether she was speaking that in faith; she responded that it was the latter. My faith tank, sadly, was running on empty. I was in tears at the thought that I would have to leave my family to return to work, and it was barely lunch time. We once again asked our friends and family for a very specific prayer to be answered. I was beside myself with anticipation. We prayed together, and I simply told R that she would have to have faith for me, because I was running on empty. Within minutes of this prayer, we got THE call from our social worker that we were headed home.
We of course hastily packed the cars, loaded up our baby, and headed home. I have never been so happy to see I-65 southbound in my entire life. We got home to elated neighbors, a clean house thanks to our precious family, and more packages for this little man than we knew what to do with. After dropping our luggage, we did what was most important: EAT. In a full circle moment, we revisited the place we ate on our last night as just us. It was purely magical to be home in our space, adjusting to each other.
Then we attempted to find normal. Or something resembling normal. I've gotta say. My little man is a champ. He is such a chill baby unless he's naked and getting his diaper changed. I'm seriously considering investing in a set of stirrups for diaper time, because he will not keep his legs still. Ever. He sleeps really well, and my wife and I have worked out a system in which I take the first feeding and change of the night & she takes the second so I can at least be remotely rested for work the next day. It works for us, but we know it's all unpredictable. What works today may not work tomorrow. And that's ok, because that's pretty much the journey of parenthood.
In my short time in the realm of parenting, I've learned a lot. No one, and I mean NO ONE has it figured out. We can read as many expert-written books, researched blogs, or parenting magazines as we can get our hands on, but we will still never know it all. And guess what, y'all? We don't have to! That's the beauty of parenting. It's all so full of love & grace that we don't have to have all the answers. It's like a game of "Who's Line is it Anyway?" where the rules are made up & the points don't matter. Fellow parents, if you think you've got it all figured out, check your ego at the door and spend some time in the floor playing with your kid. Please. And each and every child is wonderfully unique and different, so what worked for all 17 of the babies on your mom's side may not work for my son. And that is OK! I've also learned that God equips parents to survive on way less sleep than we ever thought imaginable. That's not to say I'm not sleeping at all - seriously, he lets us go at least 4-5 hours in between feedings. He's great. I've also been granted patience when I needed it the most, an increased capacity for love of my son and my rockstar wife, and grace for the moment.
Who cares that I haven't read a physical book in over a week or that there's a stack of ironing that I need to do? Right now, there's a precious one-month old strapped to my chest in my sling while I write this and cry over a weeks-old episode of Grey's. And all is right in my world.
"Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from him." - Psalm 127:3
A little over 2 weeks ago, we were traveling to another state to meet this ball of life for the first time. I'll spare you the histrionics of that meeting, but a summary of the emotions can be described as such: nervousness, shock, fear, elation, tears, joy, tears, more fear, tears, and the reality that this is what we've worked for. {Also, more tears.}
Then reality began to sink in, so we did what any normal Millennial couple does: head to Target! Strangely in spite of all we packed, we didn't bring formula. {Praise the Lord for those specials they run where you buy 15 of one product to get a $2 gift card!} We were in a hotel for the first few nights that we were out of state, which is an experience on its own - an even more stressful one when you're carrying a newborn with you.
Our first night included, but was not limited to: multiple attempts at cosleeping because the bassinet just wasn't cutting it, several trips to the conference room on the first floor as to not disturb our neighbors, and a 2 AM Wal-Mart run for gripe water {and an impulse purchase of those amazing month-by-month stickers shaped like neckties} in my pajamas. Regardless of locale, the clientele at the Mart is always intriguing at that hour. He eventually settled into a routine in the hotel before we had to move to the camper, which turned out to be his 4th new home in fewer than 3 weeks.
{Side note in our travels: whoever drew the roads in the state to which we traveled must have been inebriated. Too many twists and turns when a straight line would have been sufficient. And for the love, why would someone make a sharp turn as you crest a steep hill in the woods?}
The camper proved to be the toughest place to stay, even though it was filled with our things, our food, our comforts. Being confined to that small of a space was exhausting. With each passing day, the walls seemed to cave in. We were free to leave the camper, but we were in an unfamiliar area with a newborn, so our options were limited. We ventured out on occasion, but we mainly stayed inside while we waited for the all-clear to head home.
When a child is adopted across state lines, both the birth state and the eventual home state have to communicate and grant approval through the ICPC process. We learned that our packet was headed to our home state within 36 hours of our meeting our son, so we were hopeful that we would get the all clear much sooner than the initial 2-3 week window that we were initially told to anticipate. I was granted a short leave for work, so there would have been a point at which I had to come home regardless, even if that meant my family was not with me.
We knew that Friday was our absolute deadline for having our prayers answered, and as Thursday afternoon rolled around, we began to get antsy. We reached out to our social worker and learned of some specific hangups that I will not mention here for the sake of my family's privacy and safety. But we took to social media to ask our friends to pray for this specific thing, and boom, that piece of the puzzle was in place by the end of the working day. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for our friends who interceded with us. I was humbled by God's goodness.
Friday came, and my anxiety was at its peak. Would it happen? Would the pieces fall into place as needed? Would we have to go grocery shopping again? {Guess what? We did. I won't spoil it. I promise.} In my anxiousness, I pulled out my adult coloring because I didn't have another good book to read with me, and I needed to soothe myself. When I finished my picture, I posted it on instagram with an anxiety-related caption. A dear Godly friend commented "It's happening. TODAY!" I later asked her if that was a specific word that she received from the Lord for us or whether she was speaking that in faith; she responded that it was the latter. My faith tank, sadly, was running on empty. I was in tears at the thought that I would have to leave my family to return to work, and it was barely lunch time. We once again asked our friends and family for a very specific prayer to be answered. I was beside myself with anticipation. We prayed together, and I simply told R that she would have to have faith for me, because I was running on empty. Within minutes of this prayer, we got THE call from our social worker that we were headed home.
We of course hastily packed the cars, loaded up our baby, and headed home. I have never been so happy to see I-65 southbound in my entire life. We got home to elated neighbors, a clean house thanks to our precious family, and more packages for this little man than we knew what to do with. After dropping our luggage, we did what was most important: EAT. In a full circle moment, we revisited the place we ate on our last night as just us. It was purely magical to be home in our space, adjusting to each other.
Then we attempted to find normal. Or something resembling normal. I've gotta say. My little man is a champ. He is such a chill baby unless he's naked and getting his diaper changed. I'm seriously considering investing in a set of stirrups for diaper time, because he will not keep his legs still. Ever. He sleeps really well, and my wife and I have worked out a system in which I take the first feeding and change of the night & she takes the second so I can at least be remotely rested for work the next day. It works for us, but we know it's all unpredictable. What works today may not work tomorrow. And that's ok, because that's pretty much the journey of parenthood.
In my short time in the realm of parenting, I've learned a lot. No one, and I mean NO ONE has it figured out. We can read as many expert-written books, researched blogs, or parenting magazines as we can get our hands on, but we will still never know it all. And guess what, y'all? We don't have to! That's the beauty of parenting. It's all so full of love & grace that we don't have to have all the answers. It's like a game of "Who's Line is it Anyway?" where the rules are made up & the points don't matter. Fellow parents, if you think you've got it all figured out, check your ego at the door and spend some time in the floor playing with your kid. Please. And each and every child is wonderfully unique and different, so what worked for all 17 of the babies on your mom's side may not work for my son. And that is OK! I've also learned that God equips parents to survive on way less sleep than we ever thought imaginable. That's not to say I'm not sleeping at all - seriously, he lets us go at least 4-5 hours in between feedings. He's great. I've also been granted patience when I needed it the most, an increased capacity for love of my son and my rockstar wife, and grace for the moment.
Who cares that I haven't read a physical book in over a week or that there's a stack of ironing that I need to do? Right now, there's a precious one-month old strapped to my chest in my sling while I write this and cry over a weeks-old episode of Grey's. And all is right in my world.
"Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from him." - Psalm 127:3
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