Role Reversals: What My Students Taught Me Today

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.

The Inadequacies of Being a Tomato

I wanted to be an ear of corn. Yes, you read that right. I wanted to be an ear of corn. When I was in the third grade, we put on a play about a farmer and his vegetables. The corn roles were most desirable because they were tall, slender, beautiful vegetables that described themselves in that way in the song they had to sing and in the dialogue they spoke. All of the tall, slender third graders were assigned that role. As you can imagine, nothing about me was tall, and therefore, I was assigned the role of the tomato. I was devastated. The tomato wasn’t even a vegetable; it was a fruit. And all of the short kids were tomatoes. I remember telling my mom that I wanted to be tall so I could be the ear of corn in that play. I compared myself to those tall, slender kids and felt like--well, an inadequate tomato.

A photo of third grade Mrs. Pace

Recently, a conversation I had with a student reminded me of this moment when I was in the third grade.This student was comparing himself to other students in the class and feeling inadequate. I got choked up in thinking about this because this student is far from inadequate, and I did the best I could in reminding him of that. And I then began to think about all of the times I feel inadequate. There are many instances. I feel inadequate quite often in my role as a teacher, as a mother, as a friend, as a wife. Then I began to think about why I feel this way. Why do I feel like I don’t live up to certain expectations? Why am I inadequate? The answer is simple. Any time I feel inadequate has been a moment where I compare myself to others. I may look at another teacher and think that I never could be as impactful in the classroom as they are. I may feel like I fail as a mother because I see the behaviors of my children are the ultimate reflection of me.

Yet, what I’ve learned is that life is not a race or a competition even though it can feel like it at times. We can’t spend our lives comparing ourselves to one another. There are gifts that I have that other teachers or mothers don’t have (I’m still trying to figure out what those are, but at least I recognize their potential to exist). So, the next time you think that your classmates are smarter than you are or prettier or more popular--the next time you think that you simply can’t match up to them, remember don’t ever compare your intelligence or anything else about yourself to others. Just worry about being the best version of yourself that you can be. Be grateful to be the tomato in a world of long, slender ears of corn.

I look at all of you, and I wish  you all could see yourselves from my eyes. You would see successful students who work hard. You would see students who have learned the art of procrastination yet somehow always get their work done. You would see student athletes who balance an IB curriculum with sports and other extracurricular activities. You would see kind students who go out of their way for other people, who don’t think so insularly about themselves all of the time. Look at what we’ve done recently in Room 211. You’ve collaborated as an entire class, you’ve made a difference in a four year-old’s life, you brought literature to life. In none of those things did it matter who was better or who was out ahead. Rather, they were situations where you worked together for an end result. In school and in life the more we can collaborate and work together, the less we will compare ourselves to others, preventing feelings of inadequacy.

  English 11 IB working together to "order" Chronicle of a Death Foretold

Caleb's reaction when he saw the website the TOK seniors made for him

English 11 IB students collaborate in a mock trial for In Cold Blood 

I’m grateful I had the chance to have this conversation recently with a student. I hope he ended up understanding why he is far from inadequate. You ALL are far from inadequate. Please don’t ever try to measure up to anyone but yourselves. Over thirty years ago, I mourned the idea of not being assigned the role of the ear of corn. Actually, I did get out of being a tomato in that third grade play after all, but not because my teacher Mrs. Bauer decided to allow me to be an ear of corn. Rather, I was not a tomato because I had the chicken pox the day of the play, but I digress. It’s funny the memories that come back to us when we’re trying to figure out our young adult and adult lives. What I know now that I may not have understood as a nine year-old is that sometimes, it’s okay to be the tomato among the ears of corn. Sometimes, the roles that are chosen for us enable us to be far more amazing than we ever could imagine.

Saying Goodbye to Ms. Davey

Think about the first time you’ve done something. I’ve had many firsts in my life. One in particular I currently am remembering is when I jumped off of the diving board at age six. I was at a swimming lesson, and the instructor said we were going off of the diving board. I was petrified of heights. Granted, this was the low diving board, but nonetheless, I was petrified. I hung out towards the back of the line, hoping we would run out of time or that I could hide behind some of the other kids. I finally got to the front of the line and slowly made my way to the edge of the board. The swim instructor was treading water in the pool, waiting to help me. “Come on, Kelly,” she said. “You can do this!” I shook my head and then finally decided to jump. Yet, when I jumped off the board, I second guessed myself and tried to grab back onto the board. Instead, I missed, and the edge of the diving board scraped my entire forearm from elbow to wrist. Blood was in the pool; they had to clear it until they cleaned everything. Clearly, this was not a “first” I am proud of, yet it does make for a funny story to tell today. Not everyone can say they shut down the pool by going off the diving board.

I have many other disastrous firsts; most of the time when we do something for the first time, we are not very good. We struggle or we second guess ourselves. Yet, I experienced a first recently--or rather, I watched someone else experience a first recently that made me realize that not all “firsts” end with a deep cut down one’s arm. Not all firsts are created equal. Ms. Davey’s first teaching experience--teaching all of you--was anything but disastrous. Ms. Davey, I remember looking at who you were on paper. I was given your application to student teach that included an essay of your teaching philosophy, and I said out loud that I already liked you on paper. Whoever was in the room with me rolled their eyes. How can you like someone just by reading about them? Yet, I knew from the start that you were going to amaze me, and you did nothing shy of that.

You see, you were the first student teacher I’ve had who didn’t really need my guidance. Yes, I gave it to you, but quite honestly, you were ready to do this from the start. Your creative classroom activities that are completely student-centered are everything that I try to implement in  my own classroom. I love my classroom for its tables and how it provides students opportunities for collaboration. You recognized this and continued to create engaging lessons for my classes. I never believed that a student teacher would feel comfortable teaching Theory of Knowledge, yet from the start, this class was as natural for you to teach as the grass is green. You picked up a curriculum that you had no formal training in and knew nothing about and asked meaningful questions and provided plenty of critical thinking opportunities.

Yet what I have learned most from you--yes, I have learned from you more than you realize just by sitting in the back of the room and soaking in your aura--what I’ve admired the most is your rapport with my students. From the start when we were doing IOCs in English class, you sat with each student individually as they were prepping. You started engaging in conversations with them and calmed them before an assessment most were nervous to do. You didn’t choose favorites, which I see so many teachers do. Rather, you spoke with every student--and you do that every single day. Your sense of humor and sarcasm have enabled our students to form a bond with you that is to say the least, pretty special.

So yes, you have defied my idea of how the first time we do most things is rather disastrous. You are a born teacher. Your first time doing this simply was remarkable. You are the type of person I am proud to call my colleague. I had a hard time in January knowing I would spend three months not teaching my English classes. I adore teaching; I love my classroom. It is one of my favorite places to be. So, for me to sit in the hallway and give that up was certainly a struggle. Yet, what I realized is how much my students have grown under your teaching. Thank you for inspiring them, for motivating them, for getting some of the quietest kids to find their voice in my classroom. Thank you for helping me to continuously see why I became a teacher in the first place. It’s all about the students for you; I feel the same way and have loved finding a teacher who shares the same beliefs in teaching that I do.

You are going to do amazing things in your teaching career. You already have. So, as you make your way down the diving board and get ready to plunge into the pool of your first year of teaching, know that you are more than ready. Somehow, I don’t see you second guessing yourself and reaching back for that diving board. For, your first time teaching has been nothing shy of remarkable.

Advice: The Doctor is In

This blog is co-authored by several former students I reached out to recently. Thank you to Riley Redd, Numa Rehmani, Sterling Saunders, Prakrit Shukla, and Charlie Welles for taking the time out of your busy college schedules to help write this.

When I was a kid, I loved watching the Peanuts movies. In my eyes, Charles Schultz was a genius. My favorite part of any movie featuring Charlie Brown was not Snoopy and Woodstock battling it out or Linus and Charlie Brown waiting for the Great Pumpkin. Nor was it Charlie Brown missing the football for the umpteenth time or Sally seducing Linus with her valentines. Surprisingly, I was not impressed by the teacher who you couldn't understand either. Rather, it was when Lucy set up her advice stand, charging Charlie Brown 5 cents for her not-so-valuable, very unsolicited advice.

As a kid, I dreamed of setting up my own “advice stand.” My sister and brother begged our parents to let them sell lemonade one summer, but all I wanted to do was dish out advice. Unfortunately, people bought the lemonade, but not the advice from the seven year-old.  

I’ve been on the receiving end of all sorts of advice: anything from “What could I have done differently in a lesson?” to “Does this dress make me look taller?” (I need all of the help I can get when it comes to height!) I also have dispensed a fair amount of advice in my time: anything from telling my own kids to say thank you to most recently helping seniors figure out where they should go to college. The latter I probably could have opened an “advice stand” for, but in all honesty, it’s been fun to watch the seniors I teach figure out for themselves where they will go. I’ve witnessed several “aha” moments when some of you realized where you will call “home” for the next four years. I even guessed several schools correctly. It’s extremely gratifying to have known you as freshmen and watch you figure out as young adults the path of your future.

So, I write this blog to give all of you who are taking IB exams in the next few weeks some advice. Some of you as juniors are taking exams for the first time. Some of you as seniors are taking up to six exams within the festival of IB testing. I know this advice is unsolicited, but I am feeling the need to open my “advice stand” and tell you that this is only a test. They’re all only tests, and while they are a culmination of everything that you’ve been doing for the past year--or in some classes two years--don’t let them define you. Recently, I learned this very lesson. As some of you know, for the past three years I have been working on my National Board certification. The National Board for Certified Teachers has revamped it’s requirements and only released them one at a time, which is why it is taking me three years to hopefully achieve. This past year, I received a score on one component that was lower than I wanted it to be. While it was still a passing score, it is not one I was proud of earning. I remember thinking that this score doesn’t reflect the kind of teacher I am. This score doesn’t demonstrate the hours I put into my craft or the relationships I have built with the students in my classroom. This score is not one that Kelly Pace would earn. I was doing exactly what I’m telling you not to do. I was letting that score define who I was, and in turn, I was feeling like an unworthy teacher. Since receiving the results of that score, I have come to some conclusions. A test cannot represent who I am as a person or a teacher. It is one measurement, but it doesn’t measure the student who could not write a thesis statement that was not a three-prong statement at the beginning of the year and now can. It does not measure the student who was rather close-minded at the start of TOK and now is open to the thoughts of others. It does not measure the fact that I am connected with my students--they share their poetry and memes and even Taco Bell (much to my chagrin) with me. So, when you sit down to take your IB tests next week, work hard. Study. Listen to what your teachers are telling you over the next few days. Read the books if you haven't done so yet. Memorize the quotes and finish the annotations. But also remember that it’s just a test. They are all just tests.

While I stand behind the advice I have just given you, I felt the need to seek some additional advice to write my blog this month. So, I sought the advice of the graduates from the Class of 2016. Below are some of their thoughts when it comes to IB exams:

• Don't stress too much about IB exams. Stressing yourself out makes everything worse, and then you end up panicking more than studying.
• Don't wait until the last minute to pick up those notes!
• Everything works out in the end! Think back to one of your all nighters and how you probably thought the world was ending because you were stressed about an assignment, but you're still here today :) --Numa Rehmani

• Study with friends!!! Talking it out will help and being with other people will keep you sane (ish).
• Actually go to sleep!! Sleep deprivation will just make you feel worse & you might start to feel sick.
• Take breaks so you don't go crazy. --Riley Redd

• START EARLY!!! Please spread out your studying, for both your own sanity and your grade.  You will learn the information better if you review it in smaller chunks over a longer period of time.  
•   Sleep is also super important.  I know some like to stay up all night to try and cram a bunch of information, but I promise sleep does help you to do better on tests.  
•   Make study guides! These are especially helpful for history and biology/chemistry where there are lots of pieces of information.  By making the study guide you are working with the material, so it actually helps to force you to start studying earlier. For English, I recommend re-reading your essays that you wrote for your writing responses.  They are a good way to review both the plots of the novels and literary techniques. Also, you do have to memorize some quotes, but don’t stress too much about that.  As long as you get the gist of the quote you’re good.
•   Make sure to take time for yourself during the exam periods.  It’s important to have mental breaks and to do things you enjoy even though you’re taking tests.  --Sterling Saunders

  

• "I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious." -Vince Lombardi
• For the past two years, you have been preparing for these IB tests, and as much as it seems absurd, three weeks of testing will count for the past two years of work. Don't let your laziness or fear of the tests let all that work go to waste! My advice is to find a group of friends to provide encouragement and (more importantly) comic relief: they will make the tests palatable. --Charlie Welles

• There's really nothing me or anyone can say to make this time feel less stressful or make you care a little bit less (or more) about your performance on these upcoming tests. At this point in your lives, you've heard most of the motivation talk and inspirational mantras that have probably ever existed. The only thing anyone can really say is that your scores and performance on these exams do not add to or take away from anything that each of you is able to do. Even if you get a 1 on AP Calc BC (guilty) or a 7 in IB HOA, that does not mean that you are going to fail or excel in life.

• Bill Gates said that he failed many exams while his roommate aced all of his. Now Gates is the co-founder of one of the largest software companies in the world, while his roommate is an engineer for that same company. It is so easy nowadays to make yourself feel terrible by comparing yourselves to everyone around you or finding people who seem to be "smarter" and feeling inadequate in front of them (I know that's ironic to say right after the Bill Gates example lol). Comparing yourself to everyone around you, will only lead yourself in a downward spiral of sadness and hopelessness, because you will never be as good as someone else at something. Instead, compare yourself to you. I hate more than anything to be cliche, but really the only things that will matter are what you have learned, knowing how to use what you have learned practically, and having the will to keep learning. In the end, things like high school exam scores will hold almost no weight in your own eyes 2-3 years down the road.
• You know your stuff, and as long as you are happy with your own performance, that's all that matters. And if you still want to compare yourself to me or anyone else, we all got 7s on every exam. Good luck.-- Prakrit Shukla

One day, perhaps, you will see me in my driveway, running my “advice stand.” The cost will be free, the advice endless. Everyone will walk away smiling. My hope is you find something in this blog that resonates with you and that you walk away from your exams knowing you worked hard, tried your best, and most importantly, may you walk away smiling. May you always be smiling! Good luck!

Texting, Colleges, and the Importance of Standing Out

I wasn’t planning on writing a blog over Spring Break. It is a break, after all. Yet, this one came to me at 2 in the morning, forcing me to sit straight up in bed. I have two pieces of writing I am required to write over break, one including revisions to my 13-page National Board paper, but of course, I didn’t get any inspiration in the middle of the night for that. Regardless, I felt compelled to write down what came to me at 2 a.m.

So what sat me straight up in bed thinking? Texting. I have been noticing a disparity in my texting versus that of others recently. Let me preface this by saying I think texting is one of the greatest inventions. It enables me to check on my kids when they are at a friend’s house at a moment’s notice. It saves time, as I can ask a simple question to others without having to pick up the phone and have a lengthy conversation. It brings out my sense of humor. As my students, you don’t have my cell phone number, but you do have the means to message me on Remind. I often wonder why all of your questions come after 10:00 p.m., but I digress. Texting enables me to make someone smile that I might not connect with during the day. My dad even sends me a daily thought every single day. We are connected by texting. But lately, I am seeing much disparity.

Here’s what I’ve started to notice. Most of the texts I receive from students and friends are short responses. Now I’ll admit that brevity is not my forte; it’s not even in my vernacular. What I’ve noticed is that while I still capitalize and write grammatically correct texts, most of my friends and students use abbreviations and rarely capitalize or even punctuate. I won’t even get into the use of emojis. Texting to me has become its own language that I am having a hard time speaking. Even my own children understand the language of texting. Over spring break while we were on the way to Crump Park, they started talking about texting language.  “Do you know what ttyl means?” Jack quizzed Katie and Maggie. “How about btw?” I even have noticed them using these abbreviations when they speak. “BTW, Maggie, that is not how you play Minecraft,” Jack said to her one morning. They speak the language, and they don’t even have cell phones!

I don’t know why this idea woke me up in the middle of the night, but it bothered me. I feel like I stand out more than I should on this one. I began to search through my phone, looking at my “paragraphs” and “dissertations” of texts and the short, quick responses that my friends and students delivered back. I was suddenly reminded of my father-in-law who passed away suddenly on this day thirteen years ago at the young age of 58. He was a newspaper editor who upheld the written word like no one else I know. He often asked me to write for The Herald Progress, the newspaper he owned and edited, but sadly, I never did. I didn’t think I was good enough to write for a published newspaper. It was an intimidating request for someone in her twenties. It would be an intimidating request for someone in her forties. While I regret never taking the time to write a column for him, how he must love that I have been writing so much and “publishing” some of it in the form of a blog this year. No matter how bad the writing may be, I know he would be proud of the content of this blog entry. You see, my father-in-law also was not a man of brevity and often behind the times, something I closely self-identify with in my own life. I remember one Christmas he joked, wondering if there was any “bling bling” in the box he was opening. “Bling” was a word that people started using, he had heard it, and decided to show that he was “current” with the times. We never laughed so hard because hearing him use that word “bling” just seemed so out of place. I just know he would have texted me in paragraphs that were grammatically correct if he was still alive today.

So the final thing I realized in my middle-of-the-night thoughts is that these ideas on texting and the uncomfortable feeling of standing out that I am experiencing are metaphors. I warn you: me thinking metaphorically at 2 a.m. can be a dangerous idea, but I rather like this one. So, here goes. Juniors, many of you are away on college visits this spring break. You are starting to think about what the four years after high school will look like. Seniors, some of you have decided on those four years, but there are many more of you who are on admitted student visits this week to make that final decision by May 1. So I have one piece of advice for all of you:

Choosing where you go to college is about where you will stand out, not necessarily where you should try to fit in. Choose a place where you feel comfortable being you, where it is okay to write out ‘talk to you later’ as opposed to ttyl.

I know I stand out in the texting world, but maybe that’s okay that I don’t conform to society’s use of abbreviations and emojis. Likewise, don’t try to fit into the school you choose; try to see what school will give you the support you need to stand out and be yourself. It is a feeling that is hard to put into words that you get when you walk on campus and feel comfortable in your own skin. Go where it feels like home. You see, what I’ve noticed more than anything is that despite my opposition for emojis and texting abbreviations, people are still texting me. When you pick the right place, people will always be supporting you.Wherever that college is that you are meant to attend, listen to your heart tell you where you will stand out.

I remember the first week at the University of Richmond. I called my parents one night, complaining that everyone looked like they jumped out of a J.Crew catalog. I sorely didn’t fit in. I wish I remember my mom’s advice; I’m sure it was something profound as she has a way with words. I do remember telling her that there was no diversity there, and I do remember her telling me that I could be the one that makes it diverse, that I can stand out by who I am and the way I think. I am actually more diverse in my values and beliefs, and the University of Richmond helped me figure that out.

I still will continue to write my novel-esque texts. My fingers get itchy when I think about lack of punctuation and capitalization. I did use btw the other day, by the way. It felt odd, but perhaps that’s because I also paired it with a lengthy statement following that abbreviation. Until texting becomes a language I truly cannot speak, I am going to stick with my grammatically correct, non-emoji texts. After all, standing out is far better than fitting in just because you feel compelled to be like everyone else. Here’s to hoping I have more inspiration at 2 a.m. for the paper whose deadline is quickly approaching. Here’s to hoping that whatever college decision you do make, you find happiness there in the next four years. Whatever school that is, they are lucky to have you; whatever school that is, I know you will stand out.

Life's About Reaction

There are some people in life who always are easy targets: it’s easy to make fun of them, and they know how to take it, perhaps because the teasing happens so frequently that they’ve developed a tough outer shell. For most of my life, I have been one of those people. I am affectionately teased on a daily basis by my friends, my students, and even my family.

When I was in high school, I was in the play Oliver!  where I had to speak in a British accent. Accents tend to come easy for me. I can slip right back into a New York accent and actually can talk like a munchkin from The Wizard of Oz. Yet, when I attempted the British accent in that play, for the life of me, I couldn’t get it.  I remember the director mercilessly teasing me for my “southern” British accent. Perhaps this was foreshadowing my descent to the South where I went away to college. Regardless, I was teased throughout the duration of that play.

My friends often tease me for doing too much. Yet what they don’t realize is why I do all that I do. There is a greater reason there. But this isn’t about that reason.

Most recently, I have been teased for my affinity for Eric Clapton as a musician. Yet, while many are quick to judge my musical taste, no one knows that the song “Tears in Heaven” got me through a very hard time in my life. This isn’t about that hard time, either.

I’ve been teased for being a rules follower, not liking spicy food, and for hating emojis. We are debasing our written intelligence every time we use emojis, by the way. I’ve been teased for caring too much, working too hard, and driving a minivan. Again, I have reasons for all of those things, but that’s not what this is about.

So what is this about? This isn’t about being bullied or made fun of or even affectionately teased. It’s about reaction. It’s about how you react to the situations you encounter in life.

This past week, I was reminded of this idea of reaction as a student so eloquently stated: “Life’s all about reaction. You know that. Get knocked down 9 times. Stand up 10.” His words were actually based off of a Japanese proverb: “Fall down seven times, stand up eight.”

This week I was reminded to stand up in times of adversity. And I watch all of you stand up in light of adversity as well--many on a daily basis. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t like the word disability. Everyone has some kind of hardship they face; some are just more obvious than others. In life, it’s how you react--how you face adversity--that truly matters.

One of the things I like most about teaching teenagers is the way you handle difficult situations. More people should take note of how you deal with things and perhaps there wouldn’t be so much stress, drama, and hardship in our lives. You see, you are some of the most optimistic people I know.  You have grit, perseverance, and a resilience that most adults I know do not possess. You don’t let your work get you down. You complete multiple assignments a week--including IAs and tests with grace under pressure. You’re expected to do community service at a whim’s notice and simultaneously earn good grades and participate in an excess of extracurricular activities--all the while spending time with your family and friends.

This month, I’ve watched you work hard at many things in my classroom:

 Seniors working on website #Calebstrong.












Juniors working on their extended essay for Theory of Knowledge at Randolph Macon College

IB Junior English final projects for Macbeth. 

Ultimately, resilience is an important quality that I think many adults lose for whatever reason as they grow older. The “they’re-young-they’ll-bounce-back” persona they once had deteriorates perhaps because they’ve hardened by the world’s occurrences, perhaps because they are tired of bouncing back, or perhaps they just change as people. Regardless, it took the words of one of my students this month along with the actions of all of you for me to realize the power of perseverance in my life.

As I said earlier, I’m an easy target. I like to think I do have a tough outer shell, yet, this past week, I grew rather doubtful of that hardened exterior. What I’ve learned this week is not to worry about people’s words or actions breaking me. One small crack isn’t going to matter. It doesn’t mean I'm broken, just that I faced a tough situation and didn’t fall apart. I learned this by watching all of you continue to persevere despite the hardships you face. So, I hope I still am teased for my Eric-Clapton-loving, emoji-hating, minivan-driving, rules-following ways. I’ll still be standing no matter what, and when some big adversity comes my way, all of that teasing will have prepared me for how to react. After all, life’s about reaction.