House Arrest

It's not a secret- I over-commit. I have trouble saying no.  My life is a constant series of appointments and to- do lists. I frequently double book, hoping it will all work itself out. I'm the typical, busy, twenty something.

But it wasn't always this way.  There was once a time when my weekends were free. I watched a thing called television, and I could even provide you with a synopsis of all the latest episodes of the hit shows.  I read books...and actually had time to finish them.  I even reveled in the fact that when an engagement came up, I got to pull out my calendar, and actually use it.  Back then, I wasn't busy.  I hated it.  Being lazy wasn't how I wanted to live.

So I changed it. 

This past year, I went from one extreme to the other. Lethargy is not a word I'd use to characterize my life now.  Every weekend, I find myself struggling to balance all of the people and commitments I've made.  I drive. A lot.  I use more gas now, than I'd care to admit.  I miss sleep, and I'm often left out of conversations regarding what's on television.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm just summarizing what life looks like now.  It's strikingly different than a year ago.  And I feel blessed by it all.

But I found enough down time to blog. Shock. I had to cancel three sets of plans today, Memorial Day, the day when everyone, even the hermits of the world have plans, because I'm under House Arrest.  

I'm not allowed to leave my house, or really even get up off the couch, per Dr. Kendra's and Dr. Shannon's orders.  I had surgery on my foot on Friday. Very painful bone surgery.  I say this because I underestimated how much it would hurt, and how much I would have to scale my life back.  Yesterday, only two days after my surgery, I attempted to "get my life back." Church, friends, bible study- a typical Sunday.

Only it wasn't typical.  I was too drugged up to hear the message at church. I struggled to get up and down the stairs, providing comic relief to my friends.  I threw up several times, while my beloved friend and chauffeur held back any patronizing comments about being right. I even laid sprawled out on her bathroom floor because I was too weak to get up. Yesterday wrecked me.

And here I am- smiling.  I'm sitting on my patio, loving that I'm not allowed to do anything today.  I was forced to take a day off, and I'm so thankful that I have friends who tell me when enough is enough. God strategically placed strong-willed friends and family in my life who make me take care of myself. 

So to those wonderful ladies, I say thank you.  Thank you for loving me enough to yell at me when I'm being stupid. Thank you for being strong enough to make hard decisions for me.  Thank you for challenging my stubbornness.  

I need days like today. And I need you to remind me of that. 

What Are We Teaching Kids?

Kids are great reflectors.

Yes, I realize that statement isn't rocket science.  In fact, there are a number of websites exploring the relationship between adolescent brain development and environment.  No seriously.  I Googled it (side note- the English teacher in me loves the fact that we took a proper noun and made it into a verb).  Anyhow, there are over 27,000,000 sites about this idea.  Add my blog post, and now we have 27,000,001 sites examining why middle schoolers act they way they do.  Neat.

Kids are products of their environments.  Spend even a small amount of time with a middle school student, and within minutes, you can deduct whether or not their parents are present or absent in their lives.  You can ascertain whether the father figure is honorable or cowardly.  You can even tell if a kid is feeling the pressure of financial stress, or if they're being raised to naively believe that the money supply is infinite.  To those kids, I chuckle.  Infinite money supply. Haha, yeah, good luck, buddy. 

Anyhow, I'm realizing that middle school students reflect their upbringing in how they think and how they behave.  And this goes for ALL kids, not just the gems sitting in front of me in English class.

Exhibit A:  I have a 7th grade student.  We'll call him Isaac*.  From the moment Isaac stepped foot into our school, he has struggled.  Fighting, bullying, incessant eye rolling.  He has perfected it all.  He was immediately labeled a "real middle school kid," and I'm going to be honest, my first thoughts about him were, Ugh, really? Which, of course, was followed by my own eye roll.
       Isaac has been suspended countless times, is behind in every academic area, and speaks openly about how he hates his life.
       Enter his parents.  

       Earlier this semester, I had to sit in on a meeting about Isaac with all of his teachers, my principal, Isaac, and his mother.  His mother openly said, "I've given up on him.  I'm waiting for the police to come and take him away."  Yup, right in front of her son.  Heart breaking, right?
       I realized that day that Isaac's behavior, lack of self-control, and overall demeanor was not his fault.  Up until that point, he had no one, myself included, telling him that he was valuable, that he was uniquely created for a purpose bigger than I or anyone else could see.  He mattered.  He just didn't know it.
       From that point on, my colleagues and I took him on as our "project".  We vowed that we would not give up on him.  He WILL graduate from high school.  He WILL get out of his destructive home environment.
      Well, a few weeks ago, he stole a master key to our school.  Yeah, if that's not a kick to the stomach, I don't know what is.  After weeks of "working on him" and extending him grace, he pulled this. Really, Isaac? Really?!?
       Of course, we had no proof that he stole it, except for other students' testimonies.  He continually denied it, frustrating us even further.  Finally, after several conversations telling him that if "it just shows up," he wouldn't get into any trouble, he proudly returned the key on Monday.
       Later on in the day, he went up to the main office.  He asked my principal, "Um...are you proud of me for turning it in?"
       She responded, "Isaac, yes.  You did the right thing, but I'm very hurt and disappointed that you lied to us and stole the key in the first place."
       His head lowered, feeling ashamed.  And then softly, he said again, "But I did the right thing, right?  You're proud of me?"
       Hearing this broke my heart.  He was crying out to be validated and praised.  He desperately wants to be told he is good, that he has so much to offer this world.
     
      And yet, the people who really get to shape him into the man he needs to be aren't stepping up.

      Kids reflect the instability, chaos, and pain that encompasses their world.  But they also reflect the good, the love, and the respect they see.  It's a scale.  Show a kid that they matter, and they will start to believe it and act that way.  Show a kid dysfunction, and they become dysfunctional.  It's that simple.

     So God, today I ask, please grant me patience to deal with my students who act out.  Help me extend them grace when they mess up.  Let my words and actions show them they matter.