Wednesday, January 22, 2014

the grace of being where we belong

This is a slightly modified version of what I said in June 2013 when I was asked to speak about why I choose to be an advocate for Catholic schools.  With Catholic Schools Week approaching (Jan. 26-31), it seemed like an appropriate time to remind myself and anyone else who might read this why I do what I do everyday!

"It feels like home to me" - remember that song? "It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong." That's how I feel about Catholic schools.

My first year of teaching was in a public school.  It was a great school with a great principal, great teachers, great parents, and great students. it seemed like the perfect place to start a career in teaching. That fall, Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf coast, and I remember thinking, how do I talk to my 5th graders about something like this happening without mentioning God? They had so many questions, and although I didn't necessarily have answers, everything I wanted to say was either directly or indirectly tied to faith, and the hope that faith gives us, even in the face of tragedy- perhaps especially in the face of tragedy. I couldn't help but feel like something was missing. There was a big part of me that I couldn't bring into the classroom- at least not in an explicit way.

When I moved to Boston in 2006 and started teaching at an urban Catholic school, I felt such freedom. I felt like I could finally be real. My teaching felt real. When we read novels that addressed big themes like courage and cowardice and life and death and friendship, we didn't have to filter those conversations or pretend that faith doesn't enter into all of those big ideas. When bad things happened in the world around us, we could look at them through a spiritual lens and talk about what our faith teaches us.



During the seven years I spent in various Catholic schools in Boston, both as a teacher and a principal,  I grew in my faith, I grew as an educator, but above all, I grew in authenticity. Each day, I became a little bit more of my true self- the person God created me to be. And each day, I saw this happening in others all around me, too. This is the great gift of Catholic schools - they give us all environments in which we can become more fully alive, more fully human, more fully ourselves.



I can be my whole self in a Catholic school. I can give my whole self in a Catholic school. I can help others- both children and adults- to discover and be their unique, whole selves. I can talk about Jesus in conversations with children about discipline. I can talk about vocation with teachers. I can talk about the hope that our faith gives us in conversations with parents who are sharing their trials and tribulations with me. I can share the gospel and a relevant reflection on it every week when I write the weekly memo to my staff and the weekly newsletter to parents.  I can pray with my school community every morning.



I will never forget right before spring break one year, our beloved secretary was going to be having surgery and she was very anxious about it. The pastor came over for community gathering that morning and invited her to sit up on the stage. The whole school extended its arms in a special blessing for her. She had the surgery over vacation week, and the results were beyond our wildest dreams. The surgery was to remove a malignant tumor on her lung. The surgeon was able to remove the entire tumor and confirm that the cancer had not spread. No further treatment was required- no chemo, no radiation, nothing! I have never been so happy to share good news with anyone as I was that Monday after vacation when I told everyone at community gathering how she was doing. The children knew that they were a part of this little miracle, and it became for them a very big and very clear example of their prayers being answered!

In Catholic schools, teachers and parents truly have the ability to partner in educating the whole child.  One night at a school fundraiser, the dad of a second grade student came up to me. With a heavy accent and tears in his eyes, he grabbed my hand and said, "Miss K, I just want to thank you. Thank you for all your hard work. I don't have any family here. My mother died. My brother died. Everybody else is so far away.  But this school...this school has become our family. I'm a single dad so I work too much, but you and the teachers help me raise my son. You teach him everything he needs to know. You make him fix his mistakes. He has grown so much. Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed with everything, but I know I can do what I need to do because I am not alone. I have this school - my family. Thank you." Those simple words and the fact that he took the time to share them perfectly sum up why I choose to do this work everyday.



Throughout my life, I have been a part of many different Catholic school communities in three different states, as a student, a teacher, and now a principal. Although each school has its unique traits, and certainly some things vary with context, they all feel like home to me.  They are all places where little miracles happen every day.  They are all filled with grown-ups working hard at work worth doing.  They are filled with children learning about themselves, each other, and the world around them and the One who created it, who loves them unconditionally and delights when they love one another.

To return to the lyrics of the song I began with, "If you knew how I wanted someone to come along and change my life the way you've done...it feels like home to me." I will always be grateful to Catholic schools for changing my life and for feeling like home to me.  I will always be an advocate for Catholic schools because I can think of no greater work than to change lives and provide learning and growing environments that feel like home.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

grace in solitude


the past few weeks have been challenging for me.  i have felt somewhat lonely, coming home to a quiet, empty house every night.  grandma is two states away with my parents.  i have always loved my solitude, and at times since moving here, i have craved solitude.  but now that i've got it, i'm ready to go back to the way things were.  i'm done being alone.  i miss having grandma here.  that whole "be careful what you wish for because it just might come true" idea?  yeah.  got it.  thanks for the lesson, God.  i'm ready for grandma to come back tomorrow.  

of course, life rarely meets me on my terms.  grandma won't be back for another month.  so...i've decided i need to find the grace in this time of solitude.  this time.  this space.  see it as an opportunity, rather than an obstacle.  as with so many situations in life, i feel my experience depends on the lens through which i choose to view it.  i know a lot of my mama friends are probably reading this thinking they would give anything for even just a day to themselves, which makes me feel a bit foolish for complaining.  but there is such thing as too much of a good thing.  mae west would disagree, but that is one of the many life lessons my grandma has taught me...moderation is key! 
 
so here i am.  experimenting with new recipes.  reading for pleasure for the first time in a long time.  taking a yoga class.  trying to make new friends.  trying to do new things that might allow me to meet new people.  and when all else fails, flying up to boston for the weekend to remember what it's like to be surrounded by people i love who love me back.  i still wish grandma would come home soon.  but i am trying to appreciate this time for what it is...me time.  i hope i can say that i used it well when it is over.  i'm sure i'm meant to be learning something during these weeks all to myself.  perhaps it is that i am not meant to live alone?  perhaps it is greater appreciation for my grandma?  perhaps it is just a reminder that i am never truly alone, and this time is an opportunity to grow in my faith in the great grace-giver. 

grace-filled snow day

a snow day is always a great gift in my book.  it is being forced to just stop.  stop running around.  stop working.  stop the craziness.  stop.  just be.  it's like God's way of saying, you deserve a little break, and i want to remind you that i am God and i am in control.

Love this quote from Psalm 46:10.
today i woke up to a snow day.  a glorious opportunity to just stop.  i stayed in my pajamas, made a big breakfast, face timed with my sister, talked to mom and grandma on the phone, watched some movies and silly daytime television.  no going anywhere.  no doing anything of significance.  minimal work (aka responding to emails - that's about it).  after a fun-filled weekend away where i was pretty much going non-stop, this was the perfect way to ease back into reality.  i am caught up, refreshed, and ready to hit the ground running.  thank you, mother nature, for this snow day!