There are times in my teaching career when I've realized I've done more than just teach. I often serve as a counselor and a parent and a coach and cheerleader all in one. I've even been a police officer of sorts, a comedian, and an actor. Yet, one of the roles I never expected to play was a matchmaker.
In 2013, not knowing their personalities at the start of the year, I assigned seats to the students in my IB English class randomly. At some point during that year, two of my students who sat across from each other started dating. They didn't know each other prior to my class, but having to sit across from one another forced them to meet. They dated for two years in high school. When they graduated from Atlee, I jokingly said I wanted an invitation to their wedding when that happens. "If it hadn't been for the fact that I sat you two across from each other, you might never have started dating," I said jokingly.
They laughed but promised they would.
They took me seriously.
This past week I received a save the date invitation in the mail to their wedding. When I opened it, I couldn't help but smile. I haven't seen these two young people much since they've graduated from Atlee let alone from Virginia Tech. I was so honored as I held that invitation in my hand and opened my calendar to, in fact, save the date.
This moment got me to thinking about the the importance of commitment and promises. How committed am I to what matters most in life? How many promises do I make that I don't fulfill? Are my words just shallow and empty promises or do I sincerely mean what I say? These two former students clearly stood by their word. I am invited to their wedding, and I am going to show up proud to have been their teacher back when their relationship began, back when I served as their matchmaker.
This month I want you to think about the idea of commitment. Most recently, I have been stuck in a very small room listening to Individual Oral Commentaries. I have heard more about Langston Hughes than I probably need to hear at this point in my life and thought very carefully about how I would redecorate the room I heard these commentaries in during the hours I spent there. I need about a gallon of paint and some black and white photographs, but I digress. This assessment is not an easy one. I know. I tried it several years ago just to see what it was like to be in your shoes. I floundered--a lot. Spending about 29 hours listening to these oral commentaries most recently, I began to think about the commitment you all gave to such an assessment. Most of you started barely being able to speak for 1-2 minutes when we began practicing for this assessment, and most of you ended with far more knowledge about poetry and Langston Hughes, many speaking for 7-8 minutes about a 20-line poem. A moment like that showed true commitment to your learning. Needless to say, I am proud.
You took me seriously.
 Students practicing for the IOC |
Students teaching the class poetry for the IOC
And my seniors, you most recently turned in your extended essays, an 18-month endeavor of 4,000 words. Along with it, you sacrificed blood, sweat, tears, and more than likely some nights where sleep was lacking. I remember when we began these papers last fall--with your passion projects. Somehow you converted something you were interested in to a research paper of 4,000 words. You showed commitment in your research and your writing. You didn't phone it in when it could have been easy to do so.
You took me seriously.
Quite honestly, that's a huge part of what life is all about--not being able to talk for 8 minutes about a 20-line poem or being able to write a 4,000 research paper--but genuinely committing yourself to the people, ideas, and things that are most important. I've been thinking about my role as a teacher--and one as a comedian, actor, counselor, and even matchmaker. Regardless of what hat I am wearing at a particular moment, my role is to be committed to my students. I will not give up on you even when you don't read the books or when senioritis (which is a made up disease, by the way) happens to reach its peak. If you don't understand something, I will find a way for you to understand. If you need someone to listen to why you're frustrated, I will lend an ear. If you want to write better, I will help you find your words.
I will take you seriously.
In 1993 when I graduated high school, Sting released a beautiful song about relationships called "Fields of Gold." There's a few lines in there that stand out: "I never made promises lightly / And there have been some that I've broken / But I swear in the days still left / We'll walk in fields of gold." While the song technically is about relationships, the lines remind me of the idea of commitment in other areas of my life--of promise and taking things seriously. And they speak to me about my job as a teacher and your role as a student--to show commitment and promise even when it would be easier to phone it in, even when it is difficult.
