Relieving Anxiety and Calming the Classroom
I always enjoy the videos on TED.com Somehow they reflect back to me the finest in us all – the compassion, the innovation, the excitement, an up-close and personal, real-time glimpse of Humans, Being. And so I watched with joy as a teacher named John Hunter described his life’s work unfolding.
John is a fourth grade school teacher in Virginia, who is busy bringing the world to his students, to fix. And not just his interpretation of the world. The real world, in all of its complexity, beauty, chaos and humanity. And here’s the unexpected surprise: those kids - the nine year olds, are busy, fixing the world for better.
What I wouldn’t have given to have been in that 4th grade classroom. Where would I be now? What kind of faith would I have in myself after my teacher trusted me with the steering wheel for the world, convincing me that MY efforts were crucial to its future and success? That my efforts MATTERED.
Now skip to the part where John mentions that his teachers, including his mom, still come through him. He's aware that it is through him that others will also experience those same teachers, with their spark of Life, their trust that the world would go on, and that it would somehow be better, for their students having contributed to it.
It got me thinking. Do my teachers still come through me? Am I allowing this in my own life and in my own teaching?
I am musing upon the long, unbroken line that is possible when we are 'allowing' teachers to support and help shape us into our unique points of service and purpose. When I ask about these teachers, are you able to whisper their names? Feel them in your heart? Remember their generosity of spirit, see how they invested in you and handed you their faith in the world? If you do, could you write them a letter, right now? What would it say?
Dear teachers, (official or not) in schools, homes, buses and by-ways:
I see you. I remember you. I can still feel your presence in my life, to this day. You are coming through me.
Today I remember you with gratitude. Grateful you saw me, tried to understand me and help me understand myself. Grateful for your ability to gently lift me up, so I could catch a glimpse of what could be. Grateful that you insisted I wake up and seize what was good and unique about myself, and set it loose in the world.
For every good reason, let’s pause together today and breathe in this question: Are your teachers coming through you?
Thanks for sharing this time with me,
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