Courage is not without fear. I am neither the first to make such a suggestion, nor will I be the last. Twain, Roosevelt, Mandela and others said it first and better. But from whomever such words hail, there is truth, there is wisdom. To be brave is to be afraid.
I am afraid. So, I guess I must be brave. At least I like the sound of that. In my darker, less-certain moments it helps to think that I am doing brave work. But even armed with such notions of self-importance–maybe self-inflicted delusion–I falter. I doubt. I wonder. I worry. Am I doing brave work? Or am I just on a crazy crusade? And if I am, what’s the cost? Am I chasing better to the betterment or the detriment of my students? I wonder. I worry. I’m haunted.
I live with ghosts.
“Other teachers give more work. Maybe I need to give more work.”
“Smiles and Frowns takes time. Maybe I am wasting instructional time.”
“Kid seem to take their other classes more seriously. Maybe I need to make my class more serious.”
“Other teachers cover more content. Maybe I need to cover more content.”
“Other teachers don’t give their kids as much freedom as I do. Maybe I need to give my kids less freedom.”
“Many believe that hard deadlines teach responsibility. Maybe I need to be harder with my deadlines.”
“I do a lot of corny things with and for my kids. Maybe I need to do fewer corny things.”
“I neither value nor believe in standardized testing data. Maybe I am wrong. What if I am wrong?”
“I do not believe that every kid will learn everything I teach while they are with me. Maybe it’s wrong to think that they will eventually.”
“Other teachers don’t allow resources, retakes, redo’s, or corrections on assessments. Maybe I am giving them too many lifelines.”
“Other teachers seem so sure that traditional approaches are the best way for kids to learn. Maybe I should go back to traditional ways.”
Maybe. Lots a maybe’s. There are many more, and they all cast shadows upon my journey. They make me wonder. They make me worry. And while they are near-constant companions, they never quite fully take hold, and I continue. I keep moving forward, for I remember that it was the “mirage of maybe” that led me astray in the first place, a vision, a belief that a better was on the horizon. And it was thus that I set out to distance myself from the status quo, breaking from its comfort, doubting its wisdom. For I believed that maybe, just maybe, I might find that better. And so I took a step. Maybe a brave step. Not certain of that. But I am certain that it was not a step without fear. For fear is the only certainty I know. I’m afraid. Always afraid. But that’s why I continue. To stop is to give in. But I can’t. Won’t reach better that way. Have to keep walking. One brave step at a time.
Today’s Trail
Along today’s trail we will…
…begin with Smiles and Frowns.
…officially kick off Project Be A Voice.
…reflect in our Journey Journals.
…end with a Sappy Sy Rhyme.
Happy Monday, all.
Do. Reflect. Do Better.
Thank you for the post, Monte. Those ghosts live with me too. It’s comforting to see that they haunt teachers that I’m inspired by, like you. But they cause me to stop and reflect and adjust course if necessary. I have a list a mile long of adjustments I should make, some for tomorrow, some for next fall. The life of a teacher– always learning, never perfect.
Thank you for reading and commenting Laura. Always learning, indeed.
Right there with you, Monte. You’ve more experience in the gradeless realm than I do, but I’m right there with you in the “maybes.” For me it’s the “3AM maybes.” That’s when they start talking to me. But you know, I’m sure, that moving the status quo isn’t for the faint of heart.
Still, this may help: https://www.ted.com/talks/simon_sinek_why_good_leaders_make_you_feel_safe
Be well.
Thank you, Gary. Appreciate the support. Always. Yes, I, too, know the 3AM maybes. That’s just about the time I get up to blog every morning. Thanks for the link. I will check it out this weekend. I know that sounds silly, but you know, I believe, how busy we get and how little time there really is. Take care.
You say what so many of us either cannot articulate, have not identified or haven’t the courage to speak for fear of sounding weak. Thank you.
Thank you, Danny. Appreciate the support.