I came to a realization today, and it wasn't very pleasant. It happened at the end of a day of training. We were supposed to reflect with a partner. In my case, the partner was my principal. We generally have a similar philosophy in life, so our conversation centered on school-related issues (shocker). Through the course of our conversation, I revealed my angst over leaving the coaching position for the classroom. I was baring my soul, which is what people like me do. By that, I'm referring to people who say exactly what they mean all the time. In considering what happened next, I feel like such an ass for doing that.
Anyway, at the end of our conversation, I knew that I was going back to the classroom next year. Period. There has been only one applicant for the posted opening. Granted, it closes on the 15th, but still. And according to my principal, the applicant is a poor one (apparently, he must know the person). Likewise, he received a text at the tail end of the reflective exercise. Apparently, it was from the husband (a Social Studies teacher) of the new Assistant Principal. He had applied for the FACS position. Paul made the comment that he can be a coach until someone retires or leaves in the Social department, and the guy can do a horizontal slide when that happens.
Although you couldn't see it by looking at me, I was experiencing an internal landslide. I don't even know why. I think it was a convergence of a number of factors:
1. Throughout the training, I realized that I could have done so much better as a coach, which made me want to go back and do it right this time. I couldn't bring my A game because I didn't even know what the game was.
2. Learning of the "maybe" plan reminded me of the old boys club that I often feel as though I have been fighting against throughout my teaching career. The supposed action of making a place for this guy just lit me up - one more example of it.
3. I feel like a failure (see number 1). I also feel as though I am being demoted, which is technically not true.
4. I feel powerless. My principal is perfectly within his bounds to re-assign me. I am not being treated unfairly or disrespectfully, and yet, I feel as though I am being dismissed.
Of course, I left, sat in my car in the city parking lot, and had myself a good, hard cry. I bawl to let off steam, which is what I did. After a few minutes, I was pulled together again.
Now, I am resigned. I know what will happen, and I am readjusting my thinking, preparing for what needs to happen next.
Even so, as I sit here in my chair and reflect on the day, I am digging in, trying to figure out why I am so bothered by all this. I did not fail, but I didn't accomplish what I wanted to either. I have a good heart, I have the expertise, and I have the emotional intelligence to do this job well. My persona is a problem, though. I think that people are scared of me. I am blunt. I have a scary face. Yeah, I'm just not quite cut out to be a coach. I KNOW ALL THIS, so what's my problem?
I think that all people have basic unifying desires. One of these desires is significance. We all have a set number of years on this earth, and after they're done, what will remain of us? That's a pretty hefty question. It's even more poignant for someone like me, whose kids are grown, who is pushing 50, and who is closer to the end vs. the beginning of her career. That whole child-rearing thing didn't work out for me so well. So that leaves my career. What sort of a permanent mark will I leave on history?
We all crave significance. Even the most abhorrent of misanthropes want to be noticed. We want to be seen, appreciated, and remembered. We need a sense of place, belonging and purpose. Why am I here, and will you remember me?
I think this is a part of my struggle right now. Coaching was a chance for significance, and I blew it, or at least, it's gone. Now, I'm going back to the classroom to finish out my teaching career. I have proven to everyone, including myself, that I am not significant, nor am I especially talented. I am utterly forgettable, and that's a bitter pill to swallow.
Another thing that I think all humans crave is physical touch, and I'm not talking about sex - although, that's one form of physical touch. I'm talking about the innocent way in which we connect with each other through touch. The reassurance of a palm as it passes lightly over a shoulder, the electricity between two people as fingers, hands, or feet connect, the confident steadiness of one as the other falters, a strong hug when it's needed. . .when physical touch is pure and innocent, it is one of the most powerful aspects of humanity. It is a connection that gives strength to the weak, hope to the hopeless, and life to the dying, whether body or soul.
Society has turned physical touch into something base and dirty, but the fact is it's one of the best things about being a human. Touch provides deep, inexplicable layers of compassion and love that no words could ever convey. We all crave it, and thrive in its presence, but sadly, we are sorely deprived of it.
Beauty is also something that all humans crave. It is where we find peace and joy. Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. . .the rolling waves crashing into shore, the delicate fingernails of a newborn, the gleaming finish of a freshly-waxed car, a gangling foal running alongside its mother. If it's beautiful to you, it's beautiful. Humans are surrounded by the ugly facts of life every day. Natural disasters, deliberate meanness of one human to another, illness and death . . these suck our energy, leaving us devoid of hope and optimism. Beauty is the antidote, and we search it our everyday, several times a day in order to re-focus on what's important.
Lastly, humans crave challenge. The human mind spends its entire lifetime in trying to make order out of chaos. This explains the existence of school, the inspiration for innovations and inventions, the struggle in all our relationships. Problems need solutions, causes have effects, actions have motivations. We thrive on trying to untangle the myriad complexities of life. We may complain about these challenges, mostly when we are in the midst of them. It is exasperating and yet exhilarating to work the process. We never feel more alive than when all of our senses, knowledge and skills are working in perfect symbiosis. Balancing a checkbook to the penny, examining the finish on a complex woodworking or sewing project, or simply helping someone resolve a complicated personal issue is inexplicably satisfying.
So what do we do with all this? I don't really know. I think there is power in simply knowing and recognizing it.
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