Over the last month, I have constantly contemplated applying for a job in Washington, DC at the Department of Education. The urging of several friends and co-workers encouraged this application process and I felt it was a good transfer over. I'm still in education, my Masters degree would be put on hold, only making me one credit short, and I would get to move closer to my family. I mentioned it to my boss- she saw it as an opportunity. That was a relief.
The dread was completely starting over. The dread was packing my stuff and packing stuff and moving stuff to a place that would only be temporary. A one year position in a new place with a guarantee to send me back to Las Vegas at the end of it. That was a semi-relief but just meant packing and moving all over again. I've put off answering the essay questions that are part of the application because I just couldn't bring myself to sit down and finish it. I started them and started them well. I quickly began to doubt whether I was even qualified for the job. I just left the Word document opened on the screen, staring at it from time to time.
Friday when I left school, I felt so uneasy. I didn't get to talk to my boss about a letter of reference face to face and I just felt upside down about it. One of the reasons is because Friday during my 7th period I finally had another breakthrough moment with my students. It's that time of year when I pull out the I Have A Dream speeches to write after reading my very own to my students (I posted it a couple of years ago if you want to take a look). Mine is full of personal history and present hopes, of grace and love and peace. I want their dreams to mimic that in some way. I read my speech in my 5th and 6th period. My 6th period was stunned (I hope at least) and my 5th period clapped like the president of the USA just gave them some personal words. (I apparently have now gone from aunt to mom in that class? I don't know how that happened?) My 7th period class is not usually my biggest struggle, however they are sometimes my biggest wear- they are just tiring. They have lots of baggage and lots of heavy pasts. I was shocked they listened. As I read my speech, they were completely silent. They seemed to be listening to each word, maybe hoping they could bring it up later or mock me for it and I think they were surprised when at the end of it, Carlos's eyes, whose eyes are glued on me at this point, begins applauding like I've given the speech of a lifetime. The rest of the class joined him and when my eyes met his quickly at the end, I was more than shocked that he was the one paying the most attention. He set straight to writing away and I watched as the rest of the boys intently followed his example.. They shared their hopes and dreams, their fears, their pasts. It takes guts to do that. As I watched these kids drop their walls and bury themselves in dreams, I felt a still small voice speak clearly-- "I'm not done with you and these kids. They're hard but I'm not finished with you here. They're getting it. Give them grace. Give them a chance." Tears welled up in my eyes, as I really saw each one of them through His lens. It looks very different from mine. I close my eyes when I'm tired and weary of these kids. He looks past the burden and loves. I haven't done that very much this year and they are maybe the most desperate for it out of any group of students I've ever worked with.
Tonight as the pastor was finishing his sermon, he asked us to sit and just pray and let God speak to us. God again spoke clearly, "I'm not done with you in the classroom. They need to be loved." Needless to say, that job in DC quickly lost its appeal. There are other options that coincide with my work in the classroom and I'm praying as to the next direction.
Who needs to be loved where you are? Who needs to hear your history and hopes? I'm giving them a chance. Praying you would do the same. -Melis
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