They Call Me G

Most recently, I’ve found myself involved in conversations with former students and the end result each time has left me humbled, satisfied, hungry, and happy. I never addressed my departure from teaching through writing, but it has always weighed heavily on my heart.

I left because I was ready. I moved from Tampa on the highest note ever. I had the blessing of my last class and, admittedly, they were my biggest fans/supporters (outside of my true blue friends, of course). They dared me, encouraged me, and pushed me to go after all of the things in life I told them they should and could. As fate would have it, I moved to Austin and the quickest opportunity placed in my lap was that of teaching. *I was assaulted on campus and plan to address that experience in a separate entry, but the end-all-be-all was the hardest decision I have ever had to make. In the end, I chose to stand for something versus fall for anything (something I aimed to teach my students over the course of the years). I found myself having to do the very same thing I encouraged my students to and while it was difficult, it was also doable, and gratifying.

While that was the breaking point, that small fraction of my career is not the focus of this post. I taught for 6 years during, arguably, the most pivotal years of a young adult’s life. Now that my students are grown (tears), I think it most fitting to share my thoughts and let them know the value they’ve place upon my life.

I am thankful for my time in the classroom. I was undoubtedly headed for self-destruction when I decided to become a substitute teacher. I can’t even begin to describe the reckless behavior I participated in as a means of escape from some of the responsibilities placed upon me. I was a wreck. Unintentionally, intentionally, burying myself into a hole that I hoped no one would dig me out of. I have always been obsessed with words and their power, so I thought the best course of action would be to become an English Professor so I could talk about words, and write, and groom a love for writing for the rest of my life. I lasted 9 months as a substitute before deciding I wanted my own classroom. I wanted my own students, and I wanted to talk about English forever. Don’t get me wrong, this sounds like I had an epiphany, but I indeed still possessed almost every quality of a small earthquake known to man.

Becoming a teacher truly saved my life.

My students have taught me compassion, patience, reason, the true value of another individual, the pertinence of individuality, family, friends, and did I mention compassion? There is nothing more inspiring than hearing the positive impact you’ve played on another person’s life. Nothing. If you have yet to experience this, then you don’t have the capacity to understand just what I mean. The depth or the weight of sheer inspiration. Teaching by no means is easy. There were days when I cried and cried hard. Not only from frustration, but from sadness. Knowing what some of my students faced when they went home. Knowing that the meals I provided at school could be the only food some of them ate. Knowing that when they left the confines of my classroom they were no longer encouraged, motivated, or pushed to pursue their goals or dreams. Knowing that the reading and writing level of (far too may) would never exceed that of the well-read fourth grader.

In the same breath, I have never laughed so hard and smiled so genuinely as I did in the classroom. My good times most definitely outweighed the bad. I had fun! Learning was fun! Writing, even when it seemed unnecessary, was fun! Discussions were fun! Arguments could be substantive and fun! We laughed. We triumphed. We sang. We rapped. We joked. We loved. We encouraged. We lived. We laughed. We wrote silly poetry. We watched movies. We drew pictures. We made art. We went outside and played in the sun. We raced. We told stories. We had dance battles. We engaged in dialogue so fruitful we surprised ourselves. We made fun of each other. We read. And we loved. My students were a family to me. Even the ones who never did homework and never read the assigned novels. Or ever participated in class discussions because they didn’t read the assignment (you know who you are: all of you. LOL). Each of my students has contributed to who am I now and for that, I am indebted and thankful.

Life has its way of getting back to you. I had no clue while I was actually teaching the effect I would have on my students or the effect they would have on me. Totally clueless. I worked for them. I planned for them. I prayed for them. I hoped for them. I breathed for them. I showed up every morning (sometimes hungover, but still there) for them. I will forever be humbled by their words. Their small gestures of appreciation. Their emails. Their messages on Facebook. Their texts. Their phone calls. Their birthday wishes. They were my world; they are my world. While some stood out more than others, it doesn’t alter their value. The quietest student still holds dear to my heart, and the loudest (which is definitely a toss-up over the years) speaks volumes to the level of patience I carry now. I’ve managed a gymnasium full of teenagers and controlled their attention single-handedly. That, is a power few possess, and that is the reason I feel I can accomplish (and deal with) anything. There is no challenge greater than a hormonal, moody teenager (or hundreds of them) J

In the same breath, I’ve dealt with the death of a student. His name rings in my ears and his face appears so clear in my mind. I tried to reach him: maybe a little too hard. I understand death, but not when it involves a child. Rest in peace DM.

I’ve seen college graduations, deployments, job promotions, births, and marriages, and I am proud. Proud to say I’ve touched lives. I’ve changed lives. I’ve contributed to society in a way that will have a lasting impact on the world. If I were to die today, I can undoubtedly say, I’m beyond happy with my contribution to the world.

To my students: thank you for saving me and for teaching me compassion and the value of life.

Don’t just follow your dreams, pursue them with aggression. Inhale the air, touch the wind, dance in the rain, love your neighbors, embrace your friends and family, read to expand your knowledge and feed your imagination, write to capture your legacy, and be selfish enough to live your today.

Thank you for being you.

G.