Don't, a tornado of commands

Over the last few years, I've come up with a number of similies and metaphors to describe the life of a teacher.

A personal favorite is this: Teaching is like being attacked by a tornado of chickens pecking you to death.  That's pretty darn accurate.

During the raging chicken storm one afternoon on the bus, I found myself saying, "Don't take the collar off the otter, [insert child's name]!  After saying it, I realized that particular sentence would sound so bizzare to anyone listening in without having the original context.  Then I started to think about all the crazy stuff I've had to say over the years that start with "don't!"   A few for your pleasure:

• Don't touch the dead bird! You'll get sick!
• Don't put milk in the plants! It makes the foyer stink like rotten milk!
• Don't staple other people's feet! Are you crazy!
• Don't speak in Japanese just because I said no Korean! We're studying English!
• Don't touch me after you wiped your nose with that hand!
• Don't throw my waterbottle out the window!  There are people down there!
• Don't say "gay bar" anymore! I know you're not saying Naver! (Naver and "gay bar" sound similar in a Korean accent)
• Don't ask me where papers go when they are labeled right in front of you!
• Don't drink my coffee! That's the LAST thing you need!
• Don't say I'm Loki! I much prefer Thor! 
• Don't lick the sugar cubes! That's not good for you!
• Don't call me grandma! I'm only 10 years older than you are!

While some of these are quite entertaining, my favorite "don'ts" are the ones listed below.  These don'ts are the reason I'm a teacher: 

• Don't ever give up on yourself
• Don't quit trying your hardest
• Don't believe that you're not worth something
• Don't accept the bad labels that people give you
• Don't become something just because society expects you to
• Don't become the very thing that you hate about this world
• Don't ever quit dreaming 

The Second Greatest Decision of My Life, a reflection

I made the greatest and most important decision of my life on July 8th, 2002.   It was late on a balmy summer night at a youth camp in Tennesse when I decided that I would abandon all this world had to offer and follow Jesus Christ.     Every year when July 8th rolls around, I can't help but be excited and celebrate it like a birthday.  July 8th is a day that I'll always remember.

Unfortunately, July 8th also has a very close proximity to July 14th.  Though it was a different year, July 14th marks the day when something incredibly painful and traumatic happened yet it was the beginning of a life-defining moment and story for me.   I'm not sure if I would have remembered what day it happened on if it weren't for the fact that it was so close to July 8th, but maybe I would have.  Hard to say.

One of the reasons I started this blog was to be more open about what is inside of me.  Usually, I’m about as locked down as a penitentiary when it comes to feelings.   I'll be completely honest in saying that I was not/am not eager to write this particular blog entry.   Sometimes that's how I know God is speaking to me: he usually asks me to do hard stuff that I don't want to do even though I know there will be a great benefit in doing it.  I hope that what I say benefits someone today.  I think there will be some benefit for me too just by even saying it.  

It would not be beneficial for me however to share too many details.  Those of you who have known me for a few years will know to which event I am referring, but the rest of you should be able to suffice on the information I do give.

It happened exactly ten years ago--July 14th, 2006.  I found myself in a situation where I felt absolutely betrayed and tossed away like garbage by someone I loved and cared for more than my own self.  When I think back to the person I was at that time, my life was pretty much centered around him.  You might say that my sun rose and set with him.  It wouldn't be far off.  If he said jump, I was already in the air before the word left his lips.  There was so much time, energy, money, you name it, invested, and I assumed there would be more--I was led to believe so anyway.   July 14th is when it all came crashing down.  

I found out in the worst way possible--social media.  A first of many insults to be sure.  I can sum up the entire aftermath in a few short sentences.  I was no longer worth any respect, effort, or sincerity to this person anymore.  He had what he wanted somewhere else, and I was no longer needed.  If I wanted to tag along like a pathetic little puppy dog and continue to lick his heels then that'd be okay, but for the most part, I wasn't a priority anymore. 

And here is where the second greatest decision of my life came. How was I going to respond to the situation before me?  

One word comes to mind when I think of this entire situation--dignity.  Was I going to accept sub-human treatment and tear myself apart trying to please someone else, or was I going to insist that I be treated like a person?  As difficult as it was, and as much as I loved, I had to walk away.   I walked away from the very thing around which I had built my life.  I had to cut something out of myself that had occupied a very large place in my heart.  

There were more choices.  Was I going to try and depend on someone or something else or was I going to become a whole and independent person?  Was I going to get out there and see the world, fulfill the very dreams placed in my heart by God, or was I going to stay behind and not attempt anything for myself?   Was I going to heal and forgive or was I going to become angry and bitter?  

Living out the choices I made were painful.  Doing the right thing is rarely easy.  There were many days and nights of bitter tears, angry prayers and words, and loneliness as the transformation by fire took place.  I am thankful to God for his compassionate love when my heart was less than thankful, to friends who surrounded me with affection, prayers, and just a lot of silly fun to take my mind off things, and to wonderful college professors who never stopped believing in me.  (That one's for you L.F. and D.A., if you reading.)

If I could go back in time and speak to the 20-year old me, I'd tell her that she did marvelously well. Through it all, she came out with her dignity and honor whole.  She did everything she could to honor God and do the right thing, even when it was unbearably painful.  I'd tell her that I am so proud of where she came from, and that I'm proud of where she is going.  I'd tell her that she is going to go on to many adventures and meet a lot of wonderful people.  I'd tell her that even though it doesn't feel like it, it's going to be okay.

I felt like I should open up and share some of this.  I don't know which parts--if any--will be meaningful to others, but I hope that if any words I have shared today can bring comfort to anyone, then I pray that they find them today.  If anything, I feel a small sense of comfort today--realizing that what I once thought was the end of the world was really only the beginning.  

Curry, an exotic journey

I wish I could regale you with tales of exotic journeys through the rugged Himalayas or clearing thick rainforest with my razor sharp machete to reach long and forgotten corners of the earth. No, my summer vacation isn't like that at all.

Instead, I'm teaching summer school...to 8 years olds.   Okay, admittedly, that is a lot like trekking on some adventure.  Imagine 7 little jungle monkeys throwing fruit and god-knows-what-else at you then howling with laughter.  Just change monkeys to children and fruit to pencils and wads of paper. God-knows-what-else can stay.

Needless to say, it's not exactly what I hoped for when I agreed to work at the camp.  Don't get me wrong, I like kids--a lot.  I love teaching too.  Sometimes, I even like teaching kids.  This combination of kids that I have now is a bit of a challenge.

Wednesday was a particularly irksome day full of "he looked at me!" "she touched my pencil!"  plus some tears, a little blood, and a whole lot of unfinished homework.  All of this by lunchtime, mind you.

I said that my summer wasn't exotic, but on Wednesday, we had curry for lunch.  Well, actually, it was Korean style Ottogi curry from a powder packet--the pinnacle of excellence and fine dining, let me tell you. Basically, imagine a mountain of white rice with yellowish curry and chunks of vegetables poured on top, and you'll have Korean curry.

I was sitting at the table with a few of my students eating quietly.  I wasn't in the mood for conversation so I imagine I looked a lot like a cow just chewing her cud or a civilized zombie who could sit at the table.  

It's hard to say whether I heard it first or I felt it, but before I could comprehend everything that happened, there was a girl on the floor, salad all over the table, and an entire mountain of steaming hot curry all over me.

I groaned audibly.  The hot food was painful, even burning through my clothes.  Most of the yellow curry sauce spilt on my pants--a particular pair of pants of which I am quite fond.  (Yellow curry is instant death to any outfit it touches.)  And considering how much my students had annoyed "blessed" me before lunch, it was the cherry on top of an already disastrous day.

It's days like this that I'm glad God has given his Holy Spirit to those who believe. I was on the edge already with my students, and the one who fell and dropped her lunch all over me was particularly on my nerves that day.  My instincts wanted to yell.  My instincts wanted someone to blame or to vent my frustrations.  Frankly, I wanted to chew this kid out for not being more careful.   I could feel the gentle whisper of the Holy Spirit in my heart.

What was more important in that moment?  My pants? My personal comfort? My expectations of how I felt summer camp should be running?  Or was it the fact that some little girl just needed a little love and grace in a moment like that?  I had a choice.  My response to the situation would exactly show what I deemed important in that moment.

I stood up, letting the curry slide to the floor.  I was still annoyed and upset, but I was going to make the right choice.  Calmly, I asked her to get some tissues for me.  I knelt to the floor and began to clean.  I had her get more lunch while I finished the job.   It took a while for my feelings to calm down, but I kept pushing forward to make the right choice.  I know God helped me do so.

There will be times--whether in the exotic or daily--where everything seems to go wrong and pile up into one mass of fury.  It is so easy to say unkind words or to vocalize our extreme displeasure in a hurtful way.  I've failed so many times before at this.   I do, however, want to remind myself that more important things are at stake--such as the growth, confidence, and development of a little girl.  I hope too that you can be reminded of what is more important in moments similar to mine.  I know God was helping me through Wednesday, and I know He'll help you make the right choice too.

Used, a local and international affair

These thoughts could probably fill a book.  There is so much to say here, but I'm not quite ready for that yet.

If I were to ask you, "what is your life mission?" what might you say?  Or let me phrase it another way, "what is something that you never want to forget while living your life?"   One of the answers I have to that questions is to love and accept people for who they are.  I wish to truly recognize their humanity and treat them with the dignity and respect that their humanity deserves.

A few different things prompted these kinds of thoughts in my head once again.   A few days ago, I was listening to music on one of my favorite stations.  The next song played automatically, and I started bobbing my head to the beat.   (I know this blog is called Shameless, but I am not willing to face the backlash and teasing if I confess what song this was.)  I liked the sound of it a lot.  The artist is talented.  I cannot deny it.  Once I started listening to the lyrics though, I found myself horrified at what was actually being said.   Both people in the song blatantly made it clear that they were using each other for their own purposes and if either failed in fulfilling those purposes, the relationship was over.  There was no compassion for mistakes and frail humanity, there was no appreciation for each other's uniqueness and personhood, there was no love--only consumerism.

I thought more on this topic last night as I watched a movie with a friend.   (We went to see the new Tarzan movie.)  I was reminded once again how disgustingly cruel and selfish some nations were to my beloved Africa.  Africa was invaded, raped, plundered, and left behind like trash*.  It is was just like one of the characters in that unnamed song--I'll use you until you're worthless to me, then I'll abandon you.

In life, I'm going to venture that many of us have not felt like people were treating us with human dignity--we were being used.  It probably started early: you weren't a playmate, you were just the kid with the cool toy that everyone wanted to see.  Next, you were the student with a pencil, not a friend or a classmate.  Maybe you were someone to occupy the time until "someone" better came along.   Maybe it was your money, your success, your possessions, or the emotional comfort you gave--whatever it was, someone wanted it and took it.  After they were done, they threw you away.    We've all been scarred by such things in many different ways; we were consumer items to be used and discarded rather than human beings with thoughts and feelings.

I've made it a priority in my life to truly love the people around me (as difficult as it can be sometimes) and not to use them for my own gain or benefit.   Consumerism towards people is one of the most un-Christlike attitudes I can imagine (Mark 10:45.)  Humanity was created in the image of God.  Out of all creation, humanity is in the closest relationship and comparison to God himself.  He made us in His own image to have a relationship with us.  The creation of humankind is a celebration of God's love, creativity, and power.  To not respect this is a grave travesty.

I wanted to write these things today because I want to spur myself and others on towards loving more sincerely, deeply, and honestly.  Will we love the people around us because they are human beings made in the image of God, deserving of respect and dignity because of that status, or will we treat them like consumer items to be gorged upon and devoured for our own selfish gain?  This includes everyone--our friends, our families, strangers on the street, the homeless person in the subway, the cranky grandma on the street peddling vegetables, the bratty student--everyone.

There is a greater power in authentic love that in many ways has yet to be unleashed in many of us.  I am asking God, and I hope you will too, to transform our consumer hearts into giving hearts. Luckily, He promised to do just that (Ezekiel 36:26-27!)

Tell you what, if anyone can guess the name of the song or the artist in the comments below, I'll confess to it.  ;)

Peace out!

* My friend that I watched the movie with recommended a book to me called King Leopold's Ghost: A Story of Greed, Terror, and Heroism in Colonial Africa by Adam Hochschild.  I'm going to be reading it myself this summer.  It speaks about some of the events I mentioned above.