Forgive me, Father, For I Have Sinned

How long has it been since you read To Kill a Mockingbird? So dadgum good. One of my favorite scenes was Scout’s first day of school. Miss Caroline was the new teacher, and for the first day of school she wore high-heeled pumps and a red-and-white-striped dress. Scout said her crimson fingernail polish coordinated with her auburn hair and pink cheeks. According to Scout, “she looked and smelled like a peppermint drop.” Straight out of college, Miss Caroline was sure she had all the answers for teaching those sweet babies how to read.

Miss Caroline began the day by reading us a story about cats…. she seemed unaware that the ragged, denim-shirted and floursack-skirted first grade, most of whom had chopped cotton and fed hogs from the time they were able to walk, were immune to imaginative literature. Miss Caroline came to the end of the story and said, “Oh, my, wasn’t that nice?”

After reading the class a quaint story about cats, she began printing letters on the board. Much to her dismay, most of the children already knew the alphabet since most of them were in the first grade for the second or third time. The day progressively declined as Miss Caroline got into an argument with the school bully, who refused to sit down.

'Burris, go home. If you don’t I’ll call the principal,” she said. “I’ll have to report this, anyway.’

The boy snorted and slouched leisurely to the door.

Safely out of range, he turned and shouted: ‘Report and be damned to ye! Ain’t no snot-nosed slut of a school teacher ever born c’n make me do nothin!”

He waited until he was sure she was crying, then he shuffled out of the building.

How did Harper Lee so accurately capture that first day? The truth in those fictional pages. Literary honey on my tongue. I feel like every day of my first year of teaching had at least a little touch of Miss Caroline’s shattered hopes for perfection. She dressed the part, studied the part, hoped for the part. But what she hoped for versus what she experienced were, well…. spot on. And every day since - every year since - I have functioned under the assumption that I will eventually get it just right.

But here’s the thing about striving for perfection - it can be our greatest enemy.  

“Satan does not tempt us to do wrong things; he tempts us in order to make us lose what God has put into us by regeneration, [namely] the possibility of being valuable to God.”1

Satan uses both good things and bad things to pull us away from God’s purpose for our lives. Example: Teachers are often tempted to “vent” about a particular child, complaining about things that are completely out of the teacher’s, and often the child’s, control. That’s a bad thing. This we know. But Satan uses good things to pull us away from God’s plan for our ministry lives as well. Example: Teachers often want to have the best data results. In and of itself, a great motive. But often Satan uses that good thing to draw us further from our God-given purpose.

Confession time: When value-added came to our district, I became a totally different teacher. A little clarification as to what value-added is:

“Value-added measures, or growth measures, are used to estimate or quantify how much of a positive (or negative) effect individual teachers have on student learning during the course of a given school year. To produce the estimates, value-added measures typically use sophisticated statistical algorithms and standardized-test results, combined with other information about students, to determine a “value-added score” for a teacher. School administrators may then use the score, usually in combination with classroom observations and other information about a teacher, to make decisions about tenure, compensation, or employment. Student growth measures are a related—but distinct—method of using student test scores to quantify academic achievement and growth, and they may also be used in the evaluation of teacher job performance.

...Value-added measures consider the test-score trajectory of the students in a given teacher’s class, at the time they arrived in the class, while also controlling for non-teacher factors, to determine whether the teacher caused the trajectory to increase, decrease, or stay the same. 2

Based on the standardized testing results, every teacher receives one of three ratings at the end of each school year - red, meaning the teacher’s students performed below the expected growth requirement, yellow meaning the teacher’s students did not perform at expected level but they’re darn close, and green, meaning you took those kids beyond expected growth level and you’re a rock star. (That’s the abridged version.) And since, unlike previous evaluation systems, this one takes into account student ability, previous knowledge, and growth projections, this is basically, a no-excuses results platform.

When value-added hit my district, I was elated. There was finally a fair and accurate mark of who was the better teacher, and I bought in. My goal, at any cost, was to be the most green value-added teacher in my department.

People! Tell me that you see how potentially, foreseeably, statistically possible it is to allow that to define you. It shouldn’t, but tell me that you don’t feel like it defines you. I’m that girl that knew I did a good job, worked my tail off, got good test results back, and I still held my breath come value-added time because value-added DEFINED. ME.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

So picture if you will, that first week of classes after learning about the adoption of value-added in my district. Here’s me looking at my lesson plans: “Okay, that activity gives the kids an opportunity to talk through their own opinions and responses to the reading, but we don’t have time to talk. We just need to write. Scratch it. And that three minutes in the middle of class where we transition from one activity to the next so they don’t get bored - yeah, scratch that too. We don’t have time. We need to hit standard 10.4B harder. So I will add this homework to this lesson to give them more opportunity because we aren’t going to get to it in class. And why are we reading this piece on culture? The standardized test won’t cover that. I don’t have time to expose my kids to this piece just for the sake of broadening their perspective. Scratch.” Two solid years of that business right there.

The previous seventeen years I spent confident in my ability to manage a combination of state standards along with exposure to higher level thinking, activities to engage and mature the children’s minds, and empower the kids to see and share and hope. And then, BAM! Just like that, I changed. In true “hindsight is 20/20” form, I can look back now and see that my students’ test results did not waiver in the before and after of value-added. I see that in black and white. What did change was how I saw children. Instead of these beautiful beings who entered my room with emotional and educational deficits combined with personal fears and joy and a longing to be accepted, I saw them strictly as test-takers who needed to receive the information in order to regurgitate the facts come test day so that I - I - could be green value added.

Value-added can, as an isolated measurement, be a good thing. But It can also be used as the perfect tool for Satan to whisper lies into our - my -  well-meaning heads. I am so ashamed to say that I spent two full years focused fully on being value-added. I neglected needs. I missed opportunities to love kids. Sure, I bought a needy kid a backpack, and I hugged kids when they seemed to need an extra dose of love. I was still kind and encouraging, but my eye was on the prize. And not in the Philippians 3:14 way.3 The devil made me do it.

For you, it may not be value-added. It could be reading levels, AP scores, common core standards, sweepstakes qualifications, or win/loss records. But if at any moment our hearts and minds are on numbers and not on kids, we are losing.

So let’s revisit the words of Oswald Chambers - the ones that jolted me into a new awareness.

“Satan does not tempt us to do wrong things; he tempts us in order to make us lose what God has put into us by regeneration, [namely] the possibility of being valuable to God.”

What has God put into us by regeneration? A heart for loving His babies, first and foremost. Compassion. Patience. And humility. So if we are falling prey to Satan's games of tempting us with our own ambition, it is quite possible that we are losing our God assignment.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.





1 My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers
2 Glossary of Education Reform
3 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:14)

Fearless Audacity

My kids were seven and nine. Dance on Tuesdays and Thursdays, church on Wednesdays, and baseball six days a week. (What’s that about anyway?) Every day looked the same - I dropped them off at school at 7:20 AM, squealed into my parking spot at 7:50, and prepped for fifteen minutes. The first bell rang and I was off to the races, teaching class after class, rolling in like the waves on the shore. Crashing into rocks more often than rolling on the shore, actually. Lesson plans were always ahead of actual plans. The to-be-graded tray was piling up as parents were drumming their fingers via email. “When will you be updating grades? Soon, I hope.” The tone was never subtle. Or forgiving. And when the last bell rang, I would scramble to make copies and tutor and grade, only to rush out the door at 5:00 PM to pick my kids up at after-school care before they were the last kid remaining. Because to be the last kid there meant I was failing, or so my kids said (never with their words, but always with their faces). And then drive-thru dinner on the way to church/baseball/dance followed by a barrage of demands on the way home. “You guys get your homework finished as soon as we get home. I’ll fix your lunches. What do you need from the store? Quickly get in the shower when you’re finished. Stop arguing over the front seat. Don’t forget to brush your teeth! Good grief, it’s already 8:30. You guys should be in bed. Go, go, go! Hurry up so you can get to sleep.”

And then as I crawled in bed, my prayer would go something like this: Lord, please allow me the opportunity to be a good mom to my kids. And please give me the strength and endurance to be an excellent teacher. Show me ways that I can love others and do more for Your kingdom. Amen.

And God’s all up there like, “You’re joking, right?”

It’s as though we can totally buy into this God who created man from dust and woman from man, but He’s not equipped to manage our lesson plans. He can make the blind man see, but He isn’t available to heal my anxiety. He can sculpt the Colorado Rockies, but He is too busy to calm my classroom.

Author Julia Cameron1 talks about how we tend to underestimate Him.

One of the chief barriers to accepting God’s generosity is our limited notion of what we are in fact able to accomplish. Remembering that God is our source, we are in the spiritual position of having an unlimited bank account. Most of us never consider how powerful the creator really is. Instead we draw very limited amounts of the power available to us. We decide how powerful God is for us. We unconsciously set a limit on how much God can give us or help us.

To put it into practical scenarios, you can’t figure out how to manage the behavior in third period. You ask a peer. You Google articles. You suck it up and take it. But do you ask for God to calm the metaphorical seas?

You have a troubled student and you just can’t even. You try discipline. You try love. You try ignoring him. But do you ask God to just handle it for you?

You are feeling some resentment toward your ________ (feel free to fill in the blank here). You gripe to your spouse (unless the blank is your spouse). You chalk it up to creative differences. You put on that not-so-poker face smile and just deal. But do you ask for God to intervene? Resolve?

You need help knowing whether or not you should cull out some family activities. You seek the advice of older friends. You read Facebook articles on how to manage family schedules. But do you beg God to give you an answer and then sit still long enough to hear it? (Ouch.)

How reckless are your prayers? Are you asking, with fearless audacity, for every single thing that you want? And need?

Here’s a good exercise for you. (And I give you permission to do this during your next staff development. You’re not listening anyway.) At the top of a blank piece of paper, write I WISH…. And then make a quick, uncensored, brave, wild, imaginative list of things that you wish. They’re wishes, for Pete’s sake. Get crazy. Get real. Get honest. Get real honest. The only one who’s blocking out God’s all-consuming power is you.

And then turn the wishes into prayers.

Fair warning: If you ask, you have to be willing to receive. And it may not look like what you thought it would look like. But I can assure you, it will be better. It says that in the Bible somewhere. I'm sure of it. 2

1 The Artist’s Way

2 Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Ephesians 3:20

Lies. Lies. Lies.

I have to jump through every single hoop to be valuable and worthy.

I’m not as good of a teacher as....

I am failing.

I need to do more.

No one appreciates me.

I’m not cut out for this.

No one sees my hard work and dedication.

I can’t do all of this.

How many of these statements have you spoken in the last six weeks? How often do you chant these things in your head? How many of these things do you believe?

Listen, Linda.¹ These. Are. Lies. And they can come from so many places. It’s easiest to blame the lies on others - rigid campus leadership, snarky staff members, critical parents, disinterested or malicious students. And let's get real: they sometimes do. Other times, however, the lies come from within. You want to be the best and do the best, so you’ve convinced yourself that to accomplish that, you must be all things to all people at all times. Lies.

Brace yourself for this next one. I’m gettin’ real. These lies come from the evil one. He loooooves the oppression that is presently sitting on the chest of public education. He rejoices in our exhaustion, our feelings of unworthiness, our anxiety, and our fears. He is owning us right now and he’s using laws, mandates, expectations, self-criticism, and doubt to keep it coming. Do you really want to give him that power?

So now let’s speak some truths.

You are exactly what these kids need at this very moment. Not a competitive or artificial version of you. There will be funnier teachers and more creative teachers. There will most definitely be cooler teachers. And there will be easier and harder and meaner and kinder. 

You. Do. You. 

Because whether or not you’re willing to receive this truth, I’m going to hit you with it… You are exactly what your kids need at this very moment.

Kids and parents and peers and administrators do appreciate you. They don’t take the time to say it, probably because they’re just as overworked and overwhelmed as you are. They feel so stifled by the infinite amount of work that they have that they haven’t a chance to breathe and notice anyone else’s – your – outstanding job. It’s not you. In fact, they feel you. They are you.

Not only are you cut out for this, you are fearfully and wonderfully made for this. You did not misread that yearning in your heart to bless kids. You do not misunderstand your own gifts. That yearning to love and bless kids and the beautiful gifts that you possess to do just that were placed there by the One who created you. Yes, the yearnings and the gifts are swallowed up by outside oppression – test scores, poverty, evaluations, expectations, discipline, critics – but they are there. And they’re not going anywhere. You just have to rediscover them. And that happens when you cut yourself some flippin' slack. Seriously. Hear me. YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

The only truth in all of those statements is that you can’t do it all. That is actually true. So stop. Stop comparing yourself to other teachers. Stop checking every bloody box demanded of you by the powers that be. Don't grade that one stack of papers. Shoot, don't assign that one stack of papers. Spend a conference period walking the perimeter of your campus praying. (It's fall, people. You should get outside anyway.) Scratch ten of the forty questions on a test. Read one less piece of literature. (And if these suggestions make your cringe, then I am really talking to you.) Cutting yourself some slack does not make you a failure. It makes you sane.

The oppression, the evil one, the self-doubt, the lies - very real. So the question is, how are you going to manage them?

¹ If you are not familiar with the “Listen, Linda” reference, for the love of all things holy, please watch this. You’re welcome.  Listen Linda on YouTube  

Learning from Elias

Elias was a young boy in the foster system, taken away from his mother and placed into three temporary foster homes before settling in, at the age of three, with his foster-to-adopt family. Mrs. Cook, Elias’ preschool teacher, met the foster family at Open House before school began. Elias entered the room with bright eyes. He’d never seen so many colors and shapes and puzzles and play areas all in one place. He went straight for the play kitchen without so much as an acknowledgement of Mrs. Cook. Despite Mrs. Cook’s attempts to introduce herself, Elias maintained full focus on the play kitchen, a behavior that didn’t seem too foreign to the seasoned teacher.

Elias’ foster parents seated themselves around the table with Elias’ teacher, eager to establish a strong parent/teacher relationship before the school year began. Background information on the boy was exchanged; the foster parents deeply yearned for the success of this new venture. Fostering Elias wasn’t easy, and they were nervous but optimistic about the school year. As the conference wrapped up, Elias’ foster mom stepped over to Elias and said with a smile, “All finished here for today. Time to pick up the toys!”

“You pick ‘em up, ho,” Elias retorted.

Mrs. Cook was taken aback. Elias is three, and Elias knows the word “ho.” Knows how to use it in a sentence, she thought. But what stunned her even more than the accurate use of “ho” was the foster mother’s reaction. She bent down, scooped up the plastic pots and pans, and returned them to the play kitchen. Elias, all the while, looked on with indifference. What kind of parent does that?! I would have busted that boy’s butt right there, Mrs. Cook thought, but thankfully didn’t say. After Elias was given the opportunity to watch his foster mother do his job, his foster father picked him up and they exited the room.

“Please pardon my son. I know that his behavior is unacceptable, but we are working on it.” Working on it how?! You just did absolutely nothing. “We know that you have class rules and expectations for behavior, but what we have found is that Elias responds best to affirmation and encouragement. Punishment seems to categorize us as another person in his life who uses abuse and mistreatment. Instead of opening old wounds, we choose to celebrate his good choices with love and more great options. For example, if he picks up his toys, which he obviously didn’t do today, he gets our cheers. Mrs. Cook, I know this may seem orthodox, but we would rather Elias be obedient not because he’s afraid of the consequences but because his obedience leads to growth and joy. It’s a process, and it’s really hard. But we believe in the system, and we hope you can help us along the way.”

As the foster mom departed, Mrs. Cook slipped back into the chair. We would rather Elias be obedient not because he’s afraid of the consequences but because his obedience leads to growth and joy.

At the end of the first month, Elias walked into the room, placed his lunch in the cubby, and proceeded to his seat. His foster dad bent down, looked him in the eye, and said, “That was great! I am so proud of you!! You’re going to have a great day.” He hugged Elias, gave him a wink, tossed his hair, and left him in Mrs. Cook’s care.

These foster parents got it well before the professional in the room.

• Ho - that was all he knew. Some of our babies come to us with little to no concept of appropriate behavior because they have not seen appropriate behavior. Sadly, for many children, school can be one of the only places where order and respect exist.
• Our natural response to misbehavior is discipline, but it’s not always the best approach. The Proverb “Spare the rod; spoil the child” is a teacher favorite. But discipline can potentially cause kids to associate school with fear and failure.
• Being a teacher of faith means exercising consistency, love, and patience. What a taxing job it is to maintain a level of consistency, love, and patience to roomful of children each and every day. More taxing, I dare say, than we can manage wholly on our own. As teachers of faith, that must come only with constant prayer and dependence upon God’s strength.

And on a completely related note, God, too, would much rather us be obedient to Him out of a place of love and faith, not a place of fear. The more we listen and obey, the more our obedience leads to growth and joy.

You Can't Do It

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. (James 1:2-3)

Dude. You are racking up the perseverance. Am I right? Are you feeling the tsunami of perseverance wash over you as you face trials of many kinds right now?

I’m not really one to make jokes using scripture – well, yes I am – but this is no joke. The two weeks before school starts are, in my book, the “trials of many kinds” to which Paul is referring. That veteran teacher who, in a meeting of 140 people, raises her hand in response to the “If there aren’t any more questions, we will let you go for the day” only to ask when the A/C is going to be turned on in room 208. Trials. The announcement that the 800 stacks of pads that you have fully stocked in your desk – office referrals, nurse’s passes, library passes – will be tossed and replaced with new ones. Oh goodie! Trials. The six hours a day of sitting in a plastic chair in the cafeteria watching really bad Powerpoint presentations. Trials. Oh, and then the team building exercises. Lord have mercy on my sour attitude soul, but those are trials. And the poor administrators who are equally as beat down by the requisite rules and obligatory presentation of said rules. They too want to just see the kids and get going. It’s what we all want, but instead we are racking up the perseverance.

It’s not that I hate team building or updates to the system or questions (I am a teacher after all, and “there’s no such thing as a dumb question”). I just hate the way my mind is working while enduring the meetings and the questions. I just want to work in my room. I have a checklist of checklists going. I’m so excited to get started that I can’t stand to sit. And I’m full of hope that this year is going to be the best year yet. And I’m even more confident that I, yes I, can do it! I can, with my own strength (and just the right amount of checklists) DO. THIS.

I frequently field the question, “Why expo markers?” as people read my blog. (Amusingly, no one asks, “Why wine?”) And my reply is always the same: I need three things to successfully navigate a school year – Jesus, wine, and expo markers. And in that order.

I think heaven will be full of new school supplies. Am I right? Sharpened pencils and fresh notebooks – oh the glory! For me, the ultimate school supply is the expo marker package. So many colors. Such bold ink. It’s a new, fresh start every year, and I love a fresh start.

But this is what happens. I take my favorite one – purple – and I make the most beautiful strokes on the clean whiteboard. It’s art for me to display my “essential question” in bold, brilliant expo. And that purple holds out for weeks. It really does. But occasionally between class periods, I forget to put the cap on. Or I use so much ink on the first three weeks that it starts to fade. Six weeks in, sometimes sooner, and I’m angrily chunking the marker in the trash, mad that my favorite color is gone. Mad that I spent twenty bucks on that package and we have a man down. Realistically, that marker isn’t made to go forever, but I’m mad that it didn’t. Logical? No. Honest? For sure.

As teachers, keepers of these precious, young souls, we are called to exude love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control every single day. (Gal. 5:22-23) All of those? Daily? Get real. We want to shout out to God, “But have you seen my classroom?! My responsibilities? My kids?!” And God patiently and calmly replies, “Yes, I have.”  And then He says this:

God’s grace. God’s power. And not – hard for us doers to hear – our own.  As for us, we use up all of our caffeine-inspired joy before second period. We expend all of our patience on little Lacy. We get overwhelmed by the stack of papers to be graded. And then, exasperated, we angrily throw in the towel because we can’t do it all. Sometimes, we get distracted by the demands and we forget to put the cap back on, metaphorically speaking, of course. If we don’t care for ourselves properly - resting, re-energizing, refocusing our true purpose - we burn out too. All too quickly. And that’s okay. For in our weakness, His power is made perfect. In fact, I would be so bold as to say that He’s glad when our energy and enthusiasm wain. That’s when we finally let Him join us in our work.

When Paul receives the promise that God’s grace and power are his to claim, Paul responds with this:

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

Point of clarification: Delight in weakness, insults, persecutions doesn’t mean complaining. And it doesn’t mean using them as an excuse. It means own the weakness. Say, “I can’t do this.” We love it when, after watching our student bang his forehead and tap his pencil and wallow in anguish, he finally says, “Can you help me? This is really hard.” When we own the weakness and ask for help, that’s where the real progress begins.  

So I encourage you to join me. We can start off this year with 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 as our anchor. When we finally admit that we can’t do it all, we’re on the right track, so we might as well start now. Let's move over. Let's let Him do more. We can’t do it all, but together with Christ, we can do more than we ever imagined. He promises that:

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to HIS power that is at work within us (Ephesians 3:20).

Dear Trump Jr., I Respectfully Disagree

Donald Trump Jr. proudly bashes American schools

At the recent Republican convention, Donald Trump Jr. made his, and presumably his father's, stance on public education quite clear. He proclaimed: 

The other party gave us public schools that far too often fail our students, especially those who have no options. Growing up, my siblings and I we were truly fortunate to have choices and options that others don’t have. We want all Americans to have those same opportunities. 

Our schools used to be an elevator to the middle class. Now they’re stalled on the ground floor. They’re like Soviet-era department stores that are run for the benefit of the clerks and not the customers, for the teachers and the administrators and not the students. You know why other countries do better on K through 12? They let parents choose where to send their own children to school.  

That’s called competition. It’s called the free market. And it’s what the other party fears.  

They fear it because they’re more concerned about protecting the jobs of tenured teachers than serving the students in desperate need of a good education.  

We have all learned to walk. Many of us have taught another to walk as well. We stand before a young one and hold her hand. We model the behavior and patiently practice the act of walking, sometimes for weeks. Sometimes only for a couple of days. And there are those prodigious walkers who, one day, bolt up and begin to run. For some children, the process of learning to walk is slow and tedious. For others, natural and fluid. But eventually, most all of us learn to walk. But picture with me, if you will, what motivates a child who is, as far as we know, most content sitting and being carried and cuddled, motivated to walk. For my daughter, there were a few factors.

She fully and completely trusted her dad and me, so when we encouraged her to take those steps, she had full faith that we would not be leading her astray. She wasn't born with that trust. We earned that trust through eleven months of being present, exhibiting love, and establishing consistency. She knew that we had no other motive than that which was good.

We coaxed her. We would stand nearby, holding out our hands and using our loving voices to prod her along. We used not fear, nor demands, nor punishment, nor shame. We used love. Thus when the time came, she was learning to walk because she trusted us. And she was ready.

Then my son came, and his journey to walk was motivated by love and encouragement, but it was also motivated by a desire to be like his big sister. So he had a role model that he loved and trusted to push him along.

Some learn to walk at the age of nine months. Some, fifteen months. And most every child somewhere in between. But what if there was a standard expectation for when a child was expected to walk? What should we do if that loving, encouraging, best-interest-in-mind parent failed at the timeline? Well then, we fire them. Clearly. We take their children away and we give them to a set of parents who will do it better. "That's called competition. It's called the free market."

Public education is not perfect. In fact, it is flawed. And it is flawed not because it's a poorly run business where we aren't firing poor educators. It's flawed because we lived in a flawed world where we are working specifically and directly with people. Little people. Little people who are learning to navigate this big, hard, scary world. And while I strongly agree that salesmen who don't sell should be fired, and servicemen who don't service should be fired, I find it hard to support the notion that teachers – those people who are called to educate the young minds of our nation – be fired because they couldn’t get 100% of their clients to quota.

No president in the history of the United States has been able to solve the issues of poverty, nutrition, unemployment, national security, mental health, crime, drugs, and incarceration yet because no human can accomplish such a feat. Yet any given teacher in any public school in any state in our nation can attest to the fact that we have a classroom full of kids who fight those battles day in and day out. Without hesitation I can witness to a classroom where I have students who do not eat between Friday at lunch and Monday at lunch because their free meal at school is all they ever eat. I can assure you that I have a kid whose parent is unemployed, due to disability, ineptitude, or laziness. I can assure you that I have a student whose father or mother is deployed and serving our nation to protect our national security. I can assure you that I have a student whose parent is serving as a fireman or a police officer, and that student fears the worst. And the worst comes from the crime and drugs and incarceration that other kids in that same classroom know all too well because their parent is incarcerated, doing drugs, selling drugs, mentally unstable, abusive, or absent. So in that classroom of 25 kids, Mr. Trump, you will pardon us if we didn’t adequately equip each and every child to solve for x.

I respect private schools like the one that Trump Jr. attended. And I deeply respect those parents who can send their children to those private schools. I think they serve a great purpose in this nation. But so does public school. And that purpose is to do the best we can with who we can while we can.

Public education is not a business. When I was a young, twenty-something Republican stepping into the field, I admit that I, along with the likes of Trump and Trump Jr., thought it was. I didn't understand why we didn't fire teachers who couldn't get all thirty kids to walk at the same speed and at the same time and for the same duration. And then I gained experience. And in the nineteen years since, thanks to my exposure to the inner-workings of the system, I can say with great confidence that no amount of reform that creates free-market education will fix our nation. What will reform our public schools is this: love. Encouraging, understanding, patient, coaxing, empathetic love. And no government sanction or Republican party candidate or his son can implement that. But God help our nation as we teachers remain steadfast in our mission to, despite all obstacles, teach.

Shepherd Your Flock

So this one’s probably going to get me into quite a bit of trouble. I don’t like trouble. And I really don’t like to be IN it. But I’m feeling called to say this:

 Principals and administrators, shepherd your flock.

Your flock is not your students. Your teachers will shepherd your students. Your teachers are your flock. And if you care for your flock then they will care for your kids, which is exactly what you need and exactly what you want.

Shepherding the flock is actually not hard to define. I’ll start with teachers who need to shepherd their flock – their kids. They should do an unscheduled pulse check on their kids once in a while. During the independent work time in a classroom, teachers go to the students’ desks and ask how they’re doing. Do they understand the material? Do they have any questions? Are they hungry because they haven’t eaten since the last school-provided meal? Of course, that shepherding also includes complimenting them on their cool t-shirt or new hairstyle, or acknowledging the new book they’re reading or the new handwriting style they’re trying. It’s not what they say to the kids as much as why. They’re showing their flock that they care about them and see them as people first, students second. Teachers who gently shepherd their flock see the young girl with tears welling up in her eyes and step into the hall with her to learn that she’s overwhelmed by the material, that she didn’t get her homework done because she had to babysit her siblings, and that she hates letting her teacher down. And great shepherds - after they understand - counsel and encourage.

Shepherds compliment their flock on progress. Kids love to hear how their teacher notices what strides they’re making. Or that their teacher notices them at all. Teachers can shepherd their flock by giving them random, private moments of affirmation – verbal or written. I had a prompting of the spirit one time to tell a young lady that I was proud of the way she was contributing in class. I wrote her a note on a Post-It because, well, high school. I just told her that I thought she was smart and that I appreciated the opportunity to know her. The last week of school I furtively watched her take that sticky note out of her notebook, where she’d kept it for six months, and put it in her purse (before she chunked that notebook in the trash). It mattered to her.

Teachers can shepherd their flock by giving them the amount of work they need to accomplish the learning and no more. Otherwise, it’s overload, and overload usually leads to a meltdown. Or worse.

Well that sounds like a passive-aggressive message to administrators. It is. Because all of my overachieving teacher friends are burned out. They’re trying so hard to please people and do it right, but they need their shepherd to tell them to simmer down.

Principals, name your top six teachers in the building. Write them down on a notepad. And then underneath their names, write all of the things that they’re responsible for. Cheer sponsor, sunshine committee, AVID site team, PBIS team, academic team coach, PTA liaison, FCA sponsor, morale committee, leadership team, campus team leader, grade level team leader, core subject team leader.  And what do you see? If I’m right, your top six teachers are in charge of your top twenty programs. Coincidence? I think not.

Listen, first of all, it’s probably not your fault that these top teachers have a full-time schedule of teaching plus a full-time schedule of committees. Those overachievers set it up that way. They dive into teaching because they care for the kids, invest in the school, and believe in the programs. Plus - Brace yourselves, overachiever teachers. I’m about to call you out - they think they can do it all and do it best. So they say yes. And then again yes. If they didn’t volunteer for it, they at least said yes when asked because that’s their go-to answer and they’ll do the job justice. And so they say yes. Before they know it, they do everything. And they’re right. They can. For a while. But here’s what you need to be reminded of: They will burn out. And when they do, it ain’t pretty.

Paul, author of Thessalonians, was the shepherd of his flock, planting churches everywhere he went and then caring for them, sometimes in person and sometimes from afar. God can love and teach his people directly. Of that I am most confident. But he sent a shepherd for his people as a model of how to love and teach. So Paul, equipped with the gifts from His master, made a strong connection with each flock and loved each flock because they shared a mission. I can’t help but equate Paul’s love for his churches with educators’ love for their schools for that same reason. Yes, the mission is to teach, but more than that the mission is to love kids and equip them with the skills they need to do great things. The central focus of education is that – LOVE. If it’s not, you’re in the wrong business.

Back to Paul and his first letter to the Thessalonians. He writes to express his gratitude to them for doing their work, but he also addresses the areas where he’s concerned. Primarily though, he is just shepherding his flock. Check out what he says to them (The Message):

Get along among yourselves, each of you doing your part. Our counsel is that you warn the freeloaders to get a move on. Gently encourage the stragglers, and reach out for the exhausted, pulling them to their feet. Be patient with each person, attentive to individual needs. And be careful that when you get on each other’s nerves you don’t snap at each other. Look for the best in each other, and always do your best to bring it out. I Thessalonians 5:13-15

Can I please break this down?! It’s too good not to.

“Our counsel is that you warn the freeloaders to get a move on. Gently encourage the stragglers.” As shepherds, we can see this as a necessity. It doesn’t promise that there won’t be freeloaders and stragglers. In fact, it acknowledges that there will indeed be freeloaders and stragglers. So “gently encourage” them. I’m going to just throw this crazy thought out there and leave it for you to discuss. Here goes: What if the work of the campus was more equally distributed, giving every teacher an opportunity to serve and connect with kids outside of the classroom? What if the under-the-radar teachers were asked to do a little more and the do-everything teachers were asked to do a little less? Is it possible that the under-the-radar stragglers would feel empowered? Appreciated? Noticed? And better yet, would they find that they enjoy doing a bit more because it offers them a chance to shine or connect with kids or share their gifts? And is it possible that the do-everythings would have respect for the freeloaders, even encouraging them along the way?

And then this part. Preach, Paul, preach. “Reach out for the exhausted, pulling them to their feet.” Are you, shepherds, keeping your eyes open for the exhausted? And when you see them, are you reaching out to them and pulling them to their feet? The word “pulling” implies work. There is a great effort in the act of pulling. It doesn’t say, “Tell the exhausted to ‘Get up!’” And it doesn’t say, “Allow the exhausted some space” or “Ignore the exhausted and hope they’ll find their groove again over spring break or Christmas break.” It commands us as members of the same mission to “reach out” and “pull them to their feet.” When we help another “to their feet,” they’re able to continue on, but not until.

He follows with “Be patient with each person, attentive to individual needs.” Different people have different buttons and you have to figure out which ones to push based on the individual, and that requires knowing your flock. Knowing them well. This takes time, and we always say that we don’t have enough time because we have due dates and checklists and time lines, but the irony is that we won’t even accomplish those things if we don’t shepherd our flock. My precious student Savannah was brilliant. I guess, technically, is brilliant. Past tense on the student, present on the brilliant. But I digress. Her writing was above college level and her intuitiveness when we read literature was wise beyond her years. She contributed to class discussions with enthusiasm, and I caught her many times helping her peers during collaborative learning. One of the stars, for sure. But she was a chronic skipper, and not the boat kind. She missed one or two days every single week, so her average was tanking. After ten weeks or so (Don’t judge), I carved out time for her. We stepped into the hall and I said this to her: “Savannah, you are one of the smartest young ladies I have ever taught. Your insight and creativity blow me away. I think you’re extraordinary.” Tears immediately welled up in her eyes and she just looked at me. For like, a long time. It got a little awkward, actually. I was going to go on, like I usually so stupidly do, and say, “But (that word! the killer of all dreams) your absences are killing you. Why do you miss so much?” But something (probably the awkward silence and the stare and tears), got me to stop. And then she said this: “You are the first teacher that has ever told me that.” WHAT?! Surely she didn’t sprout this wisdom and maturity over the summer. Surely she’s been this brilliant all along, but is it possible that her prior teachers focused more on the absences than on the gifts? When I walked away from her, I praised the Good Lord above for stopping the “but.” We have those kids in the room who are exhausted, overwhelmed, chronically absent, discouraged, underappreciated. Principals, too, have those teachers. And they need to be attended to as well. I don’t pretend to know the various ways to be attentive to each person, but you do. When you get to know people deeply, you do.

“And be careful that when you get on each other’s nerves you don’t snap at each other.” Tell me you don’t want to high-five Paul for these words! Fine, Paul didn’t say this verbatim. He said something more like, “See that none render evil for evil unto any man;“ which is also good. But The Message version is so much more applicable to public education. So much snapping!

“Look for the best in each other, and always do your best to bring it out.” Great are the administrators who shepherd their flock. Campuses and districts who have this sort of leadership style thrive. I thank God for the administrators who have believed in me and got to know me along the way. I can assure you, I wouldn’t have made it 19 years without them checking on me, coaching me, knowing me, loving on me. I pray that every teacher feels the comfort of a compassionate shepherd. For it is in receiving compassion and strength that we can dole it out.

If you dig into I Thessalonians 5, you’ll see that this text is preceded by the necessity of caring for your leaders, so hang tight, administrators. We’ll save that for another day.

To My Students

I've been preaching at you for nine months now, so I predict that more life lessons would simply result in some eye rolling, possibly even the termination of reading this letter. But you know good and well that won't stop me.

Please remember what we have learned so far. Most of it will be used for years to come. While you lament that some of the material that you learn will never be used again, you must know that the knowledge of how to write and express yourself is a beautiful gift. Use it in your career. Use it in your relationships. Use it in your own personal journey. Nothing is more valuable than the written word because, unlike us, it is immortal.

And now I will give you advice that I haven't yet pounded into you. It is simply this: Education is your lifeline. It's honestly one of the only free things you will ever get. You have people in this building every day who are longing to help you succeed. They're begging for you to try. They incorporate various ways to inspire and motivate, they offer more than enough opportunities for growth, and they love you. They genuinely do. Not all of them, really, but you already know that. But what you also know, or at least you better, is that there are people in this building who are pushing you and educating you and rooting for you because they know what you may not realize yet - that education is the great leveler.

You guys all come from various backgrounds. Some of you will leave this building and go on glorious vacations to foreign countries, while some of you won't leave your neighborhood. Some of you will spend blessed summer days with family that deeply loves you, and some of you won't see your family at all. And frankly, some of you will see family that you'd really rather not see. Some of you will lie on the couch and at the pool and in your hammock, while some of you will work your butt off this summer to provide for your families. Or you'll babysit siblings and cousins so that your parents can work their butts off to provide for your families. But this building - this education - is where it all levels out. You all get the same shot at a good life because education can get you there.

I believe that there are many other factors that are required for a good life: kindness, forgiveness, love, faith, integrity, and solid work ethic. And I pray that each one of you has someone in your life to help you find and foster those things. But don't ever, even for a second, underestimate the power of your education. Do not make excuses and do not blow it off. Most people only get one shot at this, and blowing it off now in the short term will be a life of regret.

The last, and frankly most important, factor is faith. I pray that you know you are fearfully and wonderfully made. I pray that you understand that life struggles are not a punishment from God, but proof that we live in a fallen world. I pray that you seek Him in your decisions - spouse, career, education, adventures. But more than anything, please know how much you are loved and adored.

So have a good summer. Read a book or two. And make good choices. But when you return to this building in August, dedicate yourself to the very best you. Soak up this free education that is being handed to you. Find the value in the classes you hate. Find the value in even the teachers that you hate. And keep your eyes open for those teachers who are longing to help you, because while this education is free, it's also hard, and it never hurts to ask for help. You'll be surprised by how many teachers will be your biggest fan if you just let them in.