Metaphors

When I was younger, television was full of variety shows. I loved watching these with my parents. My favorite act was a man who would bring out a big table holding dowels. He would place a plate on each dowel and, in order, for the plates to stay in the air he had to keep them spinning. Otherwise, the plates would fall to the ground and crash.

I think back to this often because it reminds me of my daily life and all of my roles and responsibilities. Keeping all of the plates spinning is a metaphor for my life.

One of my roles is being a teacher. I love teaching.

I love teaching reading. I love working with my students. I love planning out lessons. I love our classroom discussions. I love seeing students have that “aha” moment when the lesson clicks for them. When I am in the classroom with my students, magic happens.

These students come from so many different walks of life.

I have 6 different classes.  Each class has anywhere from 20 – 31 students at a time. Each of these 125+ students brings their own individual experiences into my classroom.

I love when we begin working on our lessons and begin sharing ideas.  These ideas come from each of their different experiences each period.

Our discussions create a mosaic of all of their experiences each class period. This mosaic then becomes a beautiful mural for that class period. Each class period is a masterpiece. I love this artistic metaphor of Room 106.

As the teacher, I am aware of my role. I am the lead learner, the lead reader, and the lead writer. I set the groundwork. I set the parameters. I set the tone. I am the role model.

My students look to me to fill this role. My students also look to me for acceptance, reassurance, and encouragement. My students look to me for confirmation as to what they are doing is correct. Some days their entire self-worth is seen in my eyes. I need to make sure I am reflecting something valuable to them.

Some days are harder than others.

Teaching is like being on stage. I am “on” for 45-50 minutes at a time – six times a day. Each performance is different. Each class requires different levels of interaction with me.

In between these 45-50 minute performances, I have a five-minute break to prepare for the next performance. During these breaks, I receive messages giving me new assignments, new directives, and new expectations from the “powers that be.” I cannot let these messages during the five-minute breaks affect me adversely or my performance as the classroom teacher will be affected, as such.

As a teacher, I compartmentalize.

I have a running “to do” list at my desk. During my planning period and my lunch, I work on this “to do” list. This list includes reports for the “powers that be,” grading, assessing, and providing feedback on my students’ work, responding to urgent emails from parents, contacting parents about concerns I have about their child, preparing for a meeting, helping a colleague, collaborating with a colleague, and planning for the next lesson.

By the end of most days, I am physically and emotionally drained.  Some days begin with a committee or department meetings.  Some days end with faculty meetings. Most days are 9-10 hours in length and start at too-early o’clock. However, you carry home the emotions of the day in your heart, so some days really never end.

Education is hard. The onus put upon teachers is sometimes unimaginable. The apathy, the bureaucracy, the looming threat of danger is always front and center.

But being a teacher isn’t my only role in life it just seems to be the bulk of my life. However, in life, “all the world’s a stage” according to Shakespeare.

I am also a wife, mom, mother-in-law, grandma, sister, aunt, friend, Elder’s wife, and a neighbor. Each of these roles has their own responsibilities, needs, and expectations.

All of these roles weave into the fabric of who I am. I love my life.

Most days, weeks, and months, I am able to compartmentalize and manage my roles with ease. Other days, weeks, and months, compartmentalizing and managing are not as easy.

During those times, a perfect metaphor for my life would be someone trying to stand in a hammock.

However, I learned a long time ago, I cannot do it all. But just because I learned it, doesn’t mean I always remember it!

I must rely on God. I must put on the full armor of God each day to manage even the smallest detail.

I must take care of myself physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. I must take care in how I speak to myself because I am listening.

My husband is my greatest cheerleader, my biggest fan, and my barometer. I am thankful for him. He talks to God about me. This gives me the courage, strength, and resilience to manage each day – no matter what comes my way. Even the fiery javelins from Satan, I will be able to manage with peace and confidence.

God is my teacher. He sets the groundwork. He sets the parameters. He sets the tone. He is the role model.

I need to look to Him to fill this role. I need to look to Him for acceptance, reassurance, and encouragement. I need to look to Him for confirmation as to what I am doing is correct. Every day, my entire self-worth is seen in His eyes. He reminds me of my value.

God gives me confidence. My husband gives me confidence.

The most beautiful thing I can wear each day is confidence.

This confidence will help me jump out of the hammock, keep all of the plates in the air, and perform each responsibility of each of my roles in the best way I can.

~ Jan 💓