Last summer, I began my break by traveling to Boston and New York City with my family. The trip was a part of a grant I received to take street photographs that I intend to use for writing instruction. We stepped off the metro into the streets of Boston, hungry for history and lunch. Yet, the first thing we saw was neither. Rather, we witnessed a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk. My eight year-old daughter looked up at my husband and me. “Can I have the crackers from your backpack, Dad?” she asked. I started to tell her that we were going to look for a place to eat, but I stopped when I realized why she wanted the crackers. She approached the dirty, hungry, homeless man and held out the package of peanut butter crackers. He smiled through gritty teeth and skin streaked with dirt and grime, and it was a moment of true happiness for both him and my daughter. I somehow managed to fumble with my camera and photograph his reaction.. The smile is ingrained in my mind as a moment of gratitude and humility in my life as well as a moment where my eight year-old taught me what is most important in life.
So, today, when thirty of you went to pack over 3,000 meals in support of the Rise Against Hunger organization, I couldn’t help but remember the smile of that homeless man and imagine the smiles of the people receiving these meals we were packing. Hunger is such a natural part of our lives; yet, we are fortunate to be able to feed ourselves easily when we are hungry. As I pressed and sealed package after package today as part of a team, I couldn’t help but think of what it would be like to be perpetually hungry. I am one who carries snacks in my purse for when my kids whine they are hungry. How foolish I started to feel after today. What we know and recognize as hunger is no where near what people we were feeding experience.
When three students presented their idea of their CAS (Creativity, Activity, Service) project that they are required to do in IB prior to graduation, I will be honest and say I didn’t think they would be able to pull off what they did today. I envisioned them raising a few hundred dollars, not over the $1100 that they did. I envisioned my students participating out of obligation, and us returning knowing we helped but not necessarily feeling fulfilled. Yet, what I got out of today was far more than that. I learned the value of teamwork and healthy competition. We were on three teams, racing each other in terms of who could pack the boxes the fastest. I quickly told my team I am not a competitive person. I had some negative experiences with friends being too competitive when I was growing up, so I never have tried to thrive on competition. My team looked at me, and I could tell they were disappointed. So, I stepped outside of my comfort zone and vowed I would make an effort to compete. I was the sealer. I had to press the edges of the bag together with a heat-inducing sealing machine, holding it down for 2 seconds before passing the bag on to the next person to check. Again, I was out of my comfort zone, and after mis-sealing a few bags, I was worried this was not the job for me. Gradually, though, I found a rhythm in my work. My team grew to be a well-oiled machine. We could work without even looking at each other. The cadence of our work was simply beautiful. We listened to music as we worked, and the first song that came on was “Fight Song.” That song reminds me of my middle child--the same one who fed the homeless man in Boston. She sang this last year in a talent show. I couldn’t help but think of the opening lyrics of the song:
Like a small boat on the ocean.
Sending big waves Into motion
Like how a single word
Can make a heart open
I might only have one match
But I can make an explosion
This is how I felt at this moment as I looked around the room at the thirty-two other people all donning red hairnets and working diligently to seal and pack boxes. We were small boats who could not make a difference by ourselves, but look at the power and the explosion we could create, look at the waves we could make when we joined together as a team. 
I grew to relish in the sound of the gong, as TImmy rang it every time a box was packed. Casey ran around putting stickers on each bag--the perfect job for someone who is fast enough to be everywhere at once. Everything fell perfectly into motion, and I realized that sometimes lessons in the classroom are not about right or wrong answers or how accurate students can be at literary analysis or even who can write the best knowledge question. We can read all of the books required, perform dozens of chemistry experiments, conjugate countless verbs, and solve hundreds of calculus problems, but until we realize what’s important and why it’s important, we’re not learning.
Today, to put simply, was inspirational. So inspirational that as I got on the bus, sat down, and texted Dr. Wheeler the picture of our group with the message “This was a top moment in my teaching career,” tears welled in my eyes. I fought them back so no one would notice, but this experience has had more of an impact on me than any classroom experience I have had.
Thank you to Jennifer Godbolt, Jack Wilson, and Alicia LeRoy for organizing such an inspirational project. Together, they raised over $1100 to make this day even possible for all of us. A true leader knows how to make a difference without ever taking credit for what he does. These three students are three of the most humble leaders I know.
Thank you to my students--all 30 of you. Sometimes you don’t realize just how much of an impact you make on me. I know so many people who doubt the goodness of young people. I wasn’t the teacher in today’s activity. I was the student. What you taught me today is the value of teamwork and having fun while doing so. You taught me not to judge. You taught me the value of helping others in need. Awhile ago, I presented to you my one percent movement. I challenged you to be one percent better than you were the day before. You have truly exceeded this challenge today. What you have shown me today is what it means to be human. You have shown me that all of the A’s, all of the awards, all of the goals scored or scholarships won--while important--are not what life’s about. Life is about working together to make a difference. Life is about that random act of kindness we do or that kind word we say. My life has become about all of you--you kind, compassionate, humble people who entered my classroom as freshmen--some rowdy, some quiet, some self-centered--and will leave in a few short weeks as some of the best people I know.
I think back to that trip to Boston every now and then and always am amazed that it was an eight year-old who thought to feed that man and bring a smile to his face. In the same vein, I was amazed today by the ideas and actions of eighteen year-olds. I will always look at the photograph below and remember this moment as one where I became a student and where my students became my teacher. Thank you for teaching me today’s lesson. It is one I will never forget.
No comments:
Post a Comment