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Copyright © Louis Schmier and Atwood Publishing.
Date: Sun 9/19/2004 5:25 AM
Random Thought: My "Wall of Sacred Gifts of Teaching"
It was a wet walk this pre-dawn morning. It was a noisy and crunchy walk
as well. The air was soggy like a wet sponge this morning. I also had to
do some broken field walking around the street litter that at a glance
looked liked scattered South Georgia mosquito droppings. It turned out to
be scattered pine cones mixed in with twigs and needles, souvenirs wrested
from the trees by what for us were luckily mere breezes of Frances and Ivan.
There was also a light, peaceful stillness in the air this heavy morning.
Not a silence, but a stillness. What's the difference. I think silence is
the empty space into which the outside sounds pour. Stillness is the inner
space in which life comes to life and pours out into the outside life. I've
found that as I walk in the pre-dawn darkness, when I listen to the
stillness, when I meditate on this stillness, I discover how it feels to be
fully aware, how it feels when all the sounds of my coming activities are
grounded in real and meaningful purpose, how it feels to know that all is
possible.
This morning, I was thinking about a "gratitude" message I had received
from a student who had been in class a while back. It hit me like the first
prayer of the High Holidays we of the Jewish faith are presently observing
and sent me into a reflective mood. I had read it over and over and over
again, got deeper and deeper inside, downloaded it, and carefully taped it
to what I now call my "Wall of Sacred Gifts of Teaching." Cumbersome though
that title may be, that wall in my office is about faith, belief, hope,
wonder, love, possibility, and miracle. It's my satisfaction wall, my
purpose wall, my vision wall, my fulfillment wall, my incentive wall. I
never merely glance at it. There is never a time I don't look at it
intently and take a deep breath.
Maybe that wall should be called my "Thank You" wall, not so much thank you
from students as a thankfulness to each of those students for showing me the
abundance that can fill the classroom. These students have enabled me to
see more clearly, to appreciate more , to discover more, and to use more
ways for making a difference that I otherwise would never have noticed.
These students took accomplishment, fulfillment, and satisfaction out of
hiding and raised my expectations for myself.
And so, this isn't a "don't wait" wall, a "sit back" wall, and a "it
doesn't happen by itself" wall. This is not a "just getting by" wall; it's
not just a "keeping up" wall; it's not just a "sitting on the sidelines"
wall. It's a "roll up your sleeves" wall. It always reminds me that a
mournful "why me," or woeful "I don't need this" or an uncaring "this isn't
my job" attitude won't result in these expressions of student gratitude, but
a caring and engaged "that's what I am here for" attitude does. This wall
says, "Hey, Schmier, see the view in the classroom. Every day, in some
little way, see the view. That's all. You won't be disappointed." When I
do, I never am, for seeing is believing and believing is seeing.
Maybe that wall, then, should be called my "Wonder Wall." Every time I go
into my office, every time I sit by the computer at my desk, I look up at
those haphazardly placed gifts and wonder; every time before I go to class,
I wonder at the wonder of it all on that wall. That sacred, wonderful
wonder wall gets me into the listening and seeing mood; it gets me thinking
about all the possibilities and all the miracles that are out there waiting
to fall into my lap if I'm willing to move my lap to where they're falling;
it reminds me how unimaginably grand is a classroom. Sometimes I just sit
and stare and wonder why I wonder.
Many people have their "Me" wall. On it they have hung their nicely framed
degrees, their recognitions, their appointments, autographed photographs,
letters of commendation, and their awards that proclaim their academic and
scholarly achievements. This wall is my "Me" wall that quietly tell of my
teaching and learning accomplishments. On and around it are crowded cards,
paintings, carvings, picture buttons, a coffee mug, a drinking cup,
cartoons, letters, poems, and other affirming gifts I have received from
students over the past twelve years. Some gifts have overflowed to sit on
my messy desk. Each gift is a life's story of having made a difference;
each is a souvenir of having touched someone; each is a tale of me having
been altered by someone; each is an affirmation that in some small way the
future has been changed and the world altered. Each gift is stile on my
journey. Each gift is a step taken on faith, with hope, in belief, and with
a lot of unconditional love. Each gift is a goal, a dream, a passion that
has come to life; each gift has brought me to life; each gift is a
consequence of having reached a real and meaningful accomplishment, of
having a sense of satisfaction that nothing else can duplicate. These gifts
aren't the rewards of faith, belief, hope and love. The people who sent
them to me are.
It's a good feeling wall, and there is nothing that feels quite so good as
knowing that you've made a positive difference. There is nothing that
energizes you in quite the same way as a real and valuable accomplishment.
There is nothing that uplifts you as realizing you've influenced a life.
There is nothing quite as filling as a sense of fulfillment.
It is a challenge wall, for it is an "this isn't all there is" wall; it's
not a "you can relax now" wall; this not a "you can pat yourself on the
back" wall. And, while each gift makes the next moment a brighter world,
they are whispered reminders that no matter how many gifts decorate that
wall, there are still more wonders, more miracles, more achievements, more
moments, more efforts.
No, I am no more being self-indulgent, egotistical or just plain silly then
if I mounted by degrees, acknowledgements, commendations, recognitions, and
awards. This wall is not a bragging wall to show others how good I am. It
is a gratitude wall. It is a blessing wall. It is a joyful wall. It is a
humble wall. It is a thankful wall. I don't think it is self-centered to
have a real and astounding joy of being who I am and where I am and what I
am doing. I don't think it is self-centered to have a daily reminder of who
I can still be and where I can still go and how much more I can still do.
It is a humbling, appreciation of the power of the caring teacher wall.
That's important. The more I sincerely appreciate teaching, the more value
I give it, the more I give it, the better it will continue to become. These
gifts give me the energy to give my energy to my blessings rather than to
problems or obstacles. It's a private collection of validation, gratitude,
appreciation, and compliment that connects and reconnects me with the best
reasons I do what I do. It a wall which I use to draw great comfort and
encouragement. If there is a time when I question the value of what I do, I
just look at that wall and let the cards, notes, and letters speak to me.
And, these gifts keep me in line. They are reminders that I must keep
spending my time doing the kinds of things that will add to my wondrous "Me"
wall of sacred gifts of teaching.
I think every teacher needs that kind of "me" wall on which to hang their
sacred gifts of teaching.
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