It matters more that I care than I teach.

This morning in our regular staff meeting to begin school, my principal started by reading a RAVE Review. A RAVE Review is an award given to a teacher or staff member who does something outstanding and can be nominated by a student, teacher, administrator, parent, etc. They are pretty cool awards and I had never received one before last year when one of my colleagues who is very kind wrote one up for me. I was incredibly grateful and thought it was of the utmost sincerity. When my principal began to read this one this morning, my brain racked thinking, "Who wrote that?? Which student was that? It had to be a student who gave it! Was it at Global? Could it be from Mack?" I was floored and if I wouldn't have been sitting in a room full of people, I would have just wept. The words were beyond kind. They were written from the truest form-- a tender heart of a previous student, one whom I had for 3 years in my Leadership program at Mack. I absolutely still adore this student as she begins her sophomore year of high school eager to do well in her magnet program and continuing her long lasting legacy of a Student Council career. I sent her a message to tell her thank you and see how she's doing and she reminded me that she "truly" meant everything she had written. Can I just share what she wrote with you? Not to brag. Not to draw attention to myself. Not to act like I'm better than other people and not to make you compare your career or calling to mine. I want to share it for a different reason but just read it first...

"Ms. Gillespie has been the most welcoming, spirited, loving, involved, dedicated person I have ever encountered. Nobody can compare when it comes to her passion for the children she leads and teaches. Her endless love and hope brought me to a place that I never really dreamed of; she makes her life revolve around her students and she touches the hearts of so many. Never could I put together the words to say thank you for all she did. She has forever changed my life because she made me a better person. I am thankful for every second I spent with her. She deserves the best and I wish her the best and all the recognition in the world." 

You have no idea how many times I flat out failed with this girl, with this group, with those kids. How many times I left school in failure tears, not joyful tears. You have no idea how many times I stopped in the middle of a Leadership class to chastise them and make them think and then make myself think as a part of my punishment. You have no idea how many times I had to apologize for saying the things I said and doing the things I do. It is always amazing to me that, often, those are the things I remembered. The times I totally screwed up and why every kid I've ever taught should dislike me more than like me.

Gratitude has a way of reminding us of the things that were done well in the midst of feeling like utter messes. It doesn't remember the failures but it sometimes laugh as if they were a silly joke that wasn't real. No one follows up with those. No one who cares anyways. They remember the positive things, the things that made a difference, the moments that mattered. When I think about this sweet girl, I think about how she came in as a timid 6th grader with her best friend at her side. He was in my Leadership class too and they remained best friends throughout middle school (and still are VERY good friends!). I took them to Disney twice for a Leadership series and they traveled to Washington, DC with my group of kids in 2013. They were in my class all three years of teaching Leadership at Mack. I have a video of them at a fundraiser when they were in 6th grade and they looked so very little. Now, they're mature and independent and very well-versed.

Seeing her dream come true in DC as she stood
at the site of JFK's grave and thought about her
roles models and dreams. Beautiful thoughts.

When we went to Disney, she had their entire trip completely mapped out between both parks and the order of rides based on times and locations, including where they would eat lunch and their group of friends ran along. There were also days where she was incredibly heart broken and cried. She struggled with many different things, which will remain nameless for her heart's sake and my mind's sake. She was optimistic and always hopeful. She wanted more. Her older sister inspired her and her younger sister followed their footsteps and their parents were happy they were all doing well. When I picture all of the things we did together as a group, I see multiple times where both of them (my two kids) would laugh. They would laugh so hard, they would cry. Sometimes in the middle of class. Sometimes after school in my room at 4:30. Sometimes in the middle of a very serious event. Sometimes at a camp where none of us were sure what was going on. Sometimes when someone hid under a table and when another one of the girls acted completely ridiculous. Playing games, making fun of each other, normal every day things. Lots of laughter. Lots and lots and lots of laughter.

I think more than any of that, her letter to me, in a very personal (but public) form made me realize something very important. KIDS CARE MORE THAT I CARE THAN WHAT I TEACH THEM. I can teach them every piece of factual information in the world and be the smartest person on the planet but without any type of love or kindness or compassion for them, I can forget it, there's no point in doing what I do. I realized in teaching my little author of sweet letters that who I am in the classroom matters more than what I teach. The things my kids still remember are the funniest moments, the most embarrassing moments, or their happiest moments and they had nothing to do with teaching Social Studies, or even Leadership. They were just moments that mattered. What I do every day matters. Taking 3 minutes to listen to a personal story matters. Taking an extra interest in my kids' families matters. Going to extra events and wishing them the best on whatever they are working on Matters. I pray that as God continues to call me to teach in a public school system that He would continue to use me to bring hope to the hopeless, peace to the fear-ridden one and laughter to the one who's never enjoyed life before.

As usual, I'm overwhelmed, but so grateful for the great responsibility God has given me. Where is your influence? Who are you when they're around? Do they have even an inkling that you care? Praying you get it too as I continue to learn.

Love, Melis

The Night Before Returning to School.... Officially Returning.

Teacher dreams are real my friends and if you are a teacher, you know what I'm talking about, and if you're not, then I can't think of an equivalent but bear with me. ((Sarcastic me would just like to point out that you clicked to read this-- so basically, you're welcome! :) ))

The other night I had a dream that I was a substitute teacher in an elementary school. The teacher who left must have been the most amazing teacher on the planet. My dream lasted the span of multiple days in class and, yes, I was only asleep for a few hours. I'm pretty sure we went on a field trip to a creek nearby and saw a snake but none of the kids were bit or drowned so I felt successful. Unfortunately, when we go back to this classroom, which was just a really weird room isolated from every other classroom at this dream school, I overheard one of the little boys tell another kid that his teacher had said I would be good, but I wasn't.

BOOM. Wake up right then. WHAT?!?!?!? How do these types of dreams happen?? I don't know but I'm sure that I'll have about a million more before students show up in my classroom next week. For now, I will just prepare myself for time spent in my room decorating. Which for me means hanging up enough pictures of myself that students realize I have a life outside of school but I still have a job. I'll do a few bulletin boards for their learning benefit too. I'll have time spent in meetings on new initiatives and new ideas and new things that the school district is doing that we are all figuring out how to use after we yell at the technology specialist at the school on why our printer is not working. I'll get the list of my students and some names I will recognize but most I will not and I will wonder if they like me or if they know me already or if they have brothers or sisters or if, if, if, if...

But you know what? Tonight is my last official night of non-freedom/freedom because I start work tomorrow. Promptly, my staff breakfast will begin at 7:30 am. I will have been awake for about 2.5 hours by then and should surely have enough caffeine and sugar in my system to last me for the 3 hours of morning meetings. So tonight, I will write a blog, stare at the ceiling, wonder what I've forgotten, yell at Facebook because I can't beat this level of Candy Crush and I'll use all my extra lives that have been sent to me, and then I'll attempt to sleep but probably wake up nauseous because I just seem to do that these days.

Here's to a new school year. Meetings, new co-workers, coffee trucks and classroom decorations. New ideas, gift card giveaways, teaching students how to make posters, and making kids cry. Here's to celebrating successes, birthdays, promotions, and overcoming obstacles. Here's to moving mountains, watching mountains move, speaking English to my sweet Anthony with the biggest grin on his face and morning talks with my boys this year. Jokes, practical jokes, observations and visitors, and me giving the death stare to someone who says something ridiculous to me. Here's to sarcasm and kindness, compassion and fear, and another school year for the books where I can make a student laugh, smile, be kind, and show leadership.

I'm probably not going to sleep without normal teacher nightmares or wondering where I put my dry erase markers, but regardless, I'm ready for a routine and I'm excited to see my new and old kids.

Happy school year! -Melis

You can have it.

I've been back in America officially for 1 week and 3 days. They have been a little bit... hmm... what's the word(s)? Crazy...overwhelming...mean...heartless...loving...MUCH. Maybe the word I'm looking for is much. In between the pool days and afternoons, the meals with close friends, the birthday parties, the church going, the long drive to work one morning, and the sleep, and the stomach hating everything I eat, it has been much. And I knew it would be.

I literally got on a plane and left a caring group of people who I smiled with each day, made jokes with, laughed with, and who felt compassion when I got the worst 24 hour stomach virus I've had since I was in high school. (I seriously had not thrown up in like 15 years until this Africa trip... who am I anymore.) It's not that the group of people that I came back into didn't care or love me the same as they did when I left but I've learned something important in traveling. Life. Goes. On. Whether I'm on the other side of the country for a family vacation, a few days with students in another city, or in Africa, life doesn't stop for everyone else. It. Goes. On. So coming back into a life that has gone on while mine has with a different heartbeat on the other side of the planet can be a little much as well.

I cried when I left church the other day because I was so overwhelmed with how loud but quiet it was around me. Part of that is my introverted nature. Part of that is being alone in a crowd, a feeling that is not new for me. Part of that is sometimes (mostly ME) get so caught up in ourselves, we say, "Did you have a good trip?" But we really don't mean it. #guilty #sosoguilty 

This is what I saw in Zambia: a group of people who have nothing except Jesus and each other. And I want that. I. so. desperately. want. THAT. To love Jesus and other people and have everything else work itself out because I am so focused on the relationships. So focused on how compassionate and loving I can be to others. So not focused on the tasks or the checklists.

My stuff is in my way. My Target addiction and my love for Starbucks Chai with a million extra pumps so it almost sets my throat on fire is in my way. My unrighteous anger at other people when they don't care about others is in my way. My need for attention and for people to constantly check on me is in my way. And you know what? You can have it. Because I want it but I don't and there's this internal battle that is beating me up most days because what I so badly want is not what I have and what I so badly have is not what I really, truly want. 

So this is my prayer... and I'm not even going to ask you to pray the same because I feel insane in this enough on my own. (So if you do pray this, it's not because you were asked, it's because you were willing :) )

Jesus- Take my fancy and un-fancy things. Take my time and attention and relationships. Take my focus and eyes and ears and mouth and speak into them and around them what only You would have. Take my Starbucks and turn those fierce iced Chai's into conversations about You. Take my need for attention and starve it and set my attention and affection on You. Take every Target shopping trip, even for the necessities and let me slow down and SEE other people. Because it's really not about me at all. It was always you. I have all these things but you know what? You can have them. Take it. You can have it all. And when I ask you why I'm hurting, allow me to think outside of myself and let someone else have my compassion and empathy and tears so they can hurt harder. And when I ask you if it's worth it, remind me of Sunday, Golden, Nelson, Dorothy, Peggy, Holly, Charles and Helen, Lorrin and Christopher, Kennedy, artistic Erick and Dennis the Menace. Remind me of the teachers we trained and the kids who put rocks on my feet. Remind me of the selfless service of Christopher and the dancing feet of Gabriel. Remind me of Olivia's arms around my waist and Kennedy's squished face against mine. Remind me of Meka's toothbrush and Kairos' grin. Remind me of the little boy who I "fought" with daily in Makwati just to make him smile. Those things are what it's about. Caring so much about others that I forget me in the process. So take what you want from me and set me apart for you because I want YOU to have it more than anyone else. Love-Melissa

Depression.

Depression is often so silent that we did not even notice it's return. We did not see the signs of it's arrival. We knew something wasn't quite right but we just weren't sure why. Something unsettling, something causing the waiting to be more difficult, the friendships to be more strained, the listening ear to be closed and the eyes to be distant. 

"I'm tired."

"I don't feel well."

"I'm exhausted." 

And every. single. one. of those things are true. 

We begin to point out all the sad and disappointing things in others to realize how badly they are hurting others and then the flood of emotion hits us at THE MOST inappropriate, unwelcomed, and uninvited time. In a restaurant at lunch. At a birthday party or dinner with a friend. We run as fast as we can home and close the curtains because the beast has reared it's ugly head and we don't want anyone to know. 

So we hide and sometimes people feel compassion or pity or both and they check on us and we are angry with them while also being extremely thankful.

Slide a peek through the curtains dear. Go sit outside and take in some fresh air. Stare at the moving clouds and take a deep breath because we feel our head is spinning. Because we understand the way the clouds feel. Runaways. Cowards. We felt that too but the clouds remind us there's a whole group of us fighting that depression/loneliness/isolation monster. And we don't have to. 

Never alone. Always with me and in me and using my story. Which seems like a beat up car in a junkyard on most days. But it's actually the prized possession, the trophy. The sought after gem that will not be sold because the price is much too high. 

To Jesus. You are a divine rescuer, my great redeemer and the lifter of my head. 

-Melis

"For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling." Psalm 116:8

You remain near.

My prayer today.... 

Jesus-

Thank you for your unchanging faithfulness to me. Thank you that you do not leave or forsake me. You do not walk away when I give up for a minute or cry or when I find myself so discouraged. You remain near. So beautifully near. When I distance myself and I run. You are a patient chaser, so gentle with my thoughts, insecurities, inadequacies, and short comings. When I drop everything to pursue momentary pleasures- you still love me. Deeply. With kindness and compassion. 

You let me be real and raw and honest and authentic. You are truly "loving toward all You have made." Thank you for what you are doing in me, even when I fear it and I don't understand it and I, sometimes, don't even like it. You remain near. So beautifully near and I absolutely love that about you. 

Love, Melissa