What Do I Make? The Million Dollar Question

Some days I wonder why I teach---high school, gymnastics, Children's Church. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that teaching is what God has called me to do. I remember the sheer horror on Daddy's face when I told him I wanted to teach English -- he couldn't understand why anyone in the world would want to do that. He had always operated under the presumption that I would do something in the medical field. What he really had in mind was that I would be an anesthesiologist. No worries, Daddy -- I still put people to sleep!!

I knew I wanted to be a teacher in elementary school; my sixth grade teacher scared me to death, though, and almost ended my chances of being a teacher by ending my career as a student. When I finally got brave enough (six weeks later) to go back to school, I determined that I would be a teacher, a better one--one who didn't scare students or give a lot of busy work.

Then when I was a junior in high school circumstances evolved that made it necessary for me to change schools. Transferring schools in the middle of one's junior year is a feat that can make the heart grow weak, but I did it -- and I found my role model. My new English teacher was AHHHMAZING! I had never seen a teacher handle a classroom like she did. She was unusually short, but even the tallest and biggest of the football players would have stripped naked and spun around upside down on their pinky fingers if she had said to. Oh, how I wanted to be like her. So...I broke the news to Daddy. And that's all I'm saying about that.

As I told you in previous posts, school was an adventure -- babies coming all along, jobs lost, houses burned-- but finally I had my degree and began teaching. It took awhile, but I found my place in God's world at Crenshaw Christian Academy. I had been teaching at Sylvan Learning Center, but Lauren's heart problems required me to be closer to lessen the stress on her. Until then, I didn't know that English teachers went to work and planned to die at the same school. I applied EVERYWHERE!!! No one had a position. I was "welcome to send in a resume," but the outlook was not good.

And then one day, Robbie called from work and needed me to look up a number. When I flipped through the phone book, one number literally jumped from the page: Crenshaw Christian Academy. I had no idea there was such a place! And I was positive that they did not need an English teacher. But I could NOT get that number from my mind.

Finally, I threw my hands up. "All right, God! I'll call. But you KNOW they don't need an English teacher -- if they're even a REAL school!" I put conditions on the call, though. Call me Gideon, but I agreed to call as long as I could put my "fleece" out there. The answer to my call had to be absolute -- no questions.

So I dialed. And hung up. And dialed again. With heavy heart and very negative attitude, I told the secretary who I was and wondered if, by chance, CCA needed an English teacher. Here's the response: Oh my gosh! Don't hang up. I have to get Mrs. Johnson! Hold on, now. You're not going to hang up are you! I'll be right back!

As I held on, I thought, "Well, okay God. That was pretty clear. Good job." And so I began teaching at CCA almost twenty-one years ago. During those years, I have often been reminded that I could make more money somewhere else -- and that's right. And sometimes I get really aggravated at the students who don't seem to care -- the ones who don't appreciate the wonderful opportunity they've been given -- the ones who, despite my best efforts, seem to know absolutely nothing about anything I've done in class. And then a breakthrough comes and my spirit is renewed.

So, today, I'm reminded of a something I heard once. For anyone who wonders what I make, here goes:

I make characters and stories come alive. I make words make sense. I make children who thought they couldn't believe they can. I make a way for children to get to college. I make students think. I make big jobs seem "do-able." I make students be accountable. I make myself available to my students and their parents. I make my room a safe, warm, and inviting place. I make people like Huck Finn and Tom Walker seem real. I make unloved children feel loved. I make it okay to ask questions. I make doctors and lawyers and firemen and teachers and engineers and dentists and policemen.

What do I make? I make a difference.

For a long time I have known that my students would not really appreciate me during high school. In fact, they probably won't like me at all. But one day, probably in college, they will appreciate my efforts. And I can wait. A very hard-working but struggling student and his parents wrote a note and gave it to me the night he graduated. The line I will always remember is "We will love you far longer than you remember us." That's my goal -- to be the one "loved far longer." I make a difference, and that's much more important than the amount on my paycheck.