Year 2 In The Books

Some deeper reflections on the school year and my experience as the 2023-2024 school year comes to a close

We’ve almost got year two in the books, and we kept saying, “The first year anywhere is hard so let’s wait and see how the second year goes.” It should come as no surprise that it was both easier and harder at the same time, but let me try. Caveat: these musings only reflect KJ’s thoughts. Our kids continue to crush it!¹

Day one, week one, month one of the second year were all much easier because every time I walked into a room, I recognized at least one person. At least their name, probably their role at the school, maybe even real facts and adjectives about them–all of this meant a modicum of ease greater than the previous year, much of which I spent trying to find a familiar face in a sea of strangers.

Conversely, we expected that familiarity to grow into real, authentic friendship that involved acceptance, open conversation, and a degree of fellowship that we had come to rely on in Colorado without even realizing it. What we got instead was a growing sense that although we shared jobs and locations and even common TCK backgrounds with each other, authentic community takes longer to build these days amidst the competing demands on our attention.

My second year as a substitute teacher was easier because I often walked into a classroom where kids recognized me and were happy to see me. I could talk to students by name, I knew where to go around campus, and I had confidence in my ability to do a competent job in various roles. I felt generally pretty good about who I was as a teacher, what I had gained in my first year here, and what I had to offer.

Although I continue to appreciate being able to come home without any work hanging over my head, I have become disenchanted with the feeling that I have no control over what I do from day to day. I don’t get to plan lessons or design curriculum or debate with colleagues about the relative merit of one text or assignment over another. Like a nomad I wander from room to room doing whatever the email of the day tells me to do (sometimes learning 5 minutes beforehand what that even entails), but I am frequently camped out in the awareness that I have more to offer the world than anyone sees.

Agency. Free Will. Autonomy. These are words that have new significance for me as I realize how much I love teaching with other people, getting to know students in a deep and meaningful way, and having a voice in the conversations about how and why we are shaping these children into good² young adults. Perhaps it’s just my middle-aged desire for meaning and purpose in life, but I feel off-kilter each time I sit in a chemistry class watching kids balance equations that I have long since forgotten, wishing I could be talking to someone about the use of juxtaposition to create balance in a sentence instead. A student struck up a conversation about the inadequacy of Baz Luhrman’s Gatsby adaptation the other day, and it was all I could do not to settle in for an hour-long debate!

Where does all of this lead me? I suppose to the realization that sometimes God doesn’t have us learn from financial distress or physical pain; instead, He lets us choose to move to a highly successful school in an affluent, accommodating city only to face the hollow place inside that just wants human connection and some affirmation of our value. A hollow place that nothing in this world can truly fill. My attitude needs adjustment more than my job title. He sits patiently waiting for me to let Him fill me up with greater purpose and meaning than I know.  He may not build a neon sign or speak over the intercom on the MRT, but perhaps this summer will offer some time and space for me to see, hear and listen³.

1. J loves middle school and has added volleyball, table tennis, D&D, Japanese, and flute to his repertoire of skills. L does back bends and somersaults all around the house when she isn’t swimming laps outside. They both consume chapter books and food constantly.

2. Yes, Dr. Gose, I will define my terms; by “good” I mean kind, compassionate, self-aware, thoughtful, analytical individuals who respect the inherent dignity of the individuals around them.

3. God often speaks through people. Let me know if you want to connect and chat about this or anything else at some point this summer! I’d love to visit, see and hear from you.