Category Archives: growing up

Seeking the applause

I’m a pretty shy person.  When I tell students that, they always look a little shocked and say, “But you’re a teacher!”  I know, as a teacher I have to stand up in front of groups of people every single day and speak and lead.  This is why I was so hesitant to go into teaching in the first place.  Fortunately, I eventually discovered that once you know your students, teaching is not the same as public speaking.  It’s building relationships with students through the material, so once I get beyond those initial days of new classes each fall, the fear and shyness usually subside.

Being an introvert, I don’t particularly enjoy the spotlight.  I don’t want people looking at me for any prolonged amount of time.  I don’t like talking on a loudspeaker, for instance, or dancing in a silly video of all the teachers that the whole school will see.  I read some verses once at my church one Sunday, and the entire week prior to that day, I felt so anxious about it, worrying over what I would wear and whether my voice would sound weird. (I know, right?  As if anyone there would care.)

However, I’m starting to realize that there are certain situations in which I actually want to be recognized.  When it comes to an area where I feel skilled or qualified, I crave some attention.  While I don’t necessarily handle praise very well at times, I still desire that recognition.  I grew up doing all kinds of music–piano, flute, and singing–and I sometimes miss the praise I would receive after a successful performance.

There aren’t so many opportunities for me to sing for an audience anymore.  I sang many national anthems at the high school where I teach, kicking off their basketball games each winter.  Hearing my voice ring out powerfully through the gym gave me a sort of thrill.  I also used to sing solos at my old church, and even though my body trembled with fear each time, it was always one of those “glad-I-did-it-now-that-it’s over” situations.  I liked it when fellow congregants came up to me and told me they loved my song or that it moved them to worship.  I loved it when my then-boyfriend (now husband) said my voice gave him goosebumps and made him want to cry.  I loved feeling like I was truly good at something.

Being a grown-up with a more realistically attainable job than that of professional musician, I find myself missing the days when I could have my own tiny piece of the spotlight.  Yes, nerves were always a factor, but that anxiety was tempered by the confidence in my ability to sing, along with the pure joy it brought me.

Nowadays I feel a bit left out when I’m not asked to sing for events or groups.  I feel like I’ve lost that part of who I am, and the people who don’t know that I sing and play the piano have an incomplete picture of me.  It’s like they don’t really know me.  Even though my performing days are gone for now (other than singing silly songs for my son), I still think of myself as a singer.  Just the other day, the song “Someone to Watch Over Me” popped into my head, and nostalgia hit as I recalled how many times I used that piece for local theater auditions.

Music isn’t the only arena where I feel like I’ve lost a piece of myself over the years.  Maybe it’s partly because our society is set up to praise youth and their accomplishments.  Just take a look at the constant awards ceremonies that parents today are asked to attend for their kids.  You get a trophy for practically everything when you’re young.  (Kindergarten graduation?  Okay, I know the kids must look super-cute in their caps and gowns, but still.  Really?)

I always felt accomplished in running, in music, in writing, and let those things provide me with a false sense of who I was.  I was special because I was good at those things.  Yeah, I did work hard at times, but much of the time, I just enjoyed cultivating my natural abilities.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the pride and satisfaction of a job well done.  Yet, how dangerous it can be when we let our abilities and accomplishments cloud our perceptions of who we truly are.  Yeah, this is where I’m going to get “spiritual”.  I think that gradually,  I’m learning again to rest in who I am in Christ.  It’s an ongoing process, one that can be painfully eye-opening.  I remember a similar adjustment as a freshman in college, and again as I entered the workforce.  We all search desperately for a place to belong, a place to feel talented and valuable and significant.  Perhaps the saddest part of this is that so many are trapped in that never-ending cycle of strive, strive, strive to be the best, which apart from God, doesn’t lead to satisfaction at all.  It leads to disillusionment.  I do believe that only in Christ can we find our true identity.

“And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.  Neither death, nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow–not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.  No power in the sky above or in the earth below–indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” –Romans 8:38-39, NLT

“But now, this is what the Lord says–he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel: ‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.”–Isaiah 43:1, NIV

What an awesome reassurance!  Even if I built up an incredible list of accomplishments throughout my life, the euphoria wouldn’t last.  It wouldn’t be enough.  It wouldn’t bring lasting peace and joy.  What I need is to know whose I am.  I don’t deserve anyone’s applause, but I’ll take what Jesus is offering–perfect, unconditional love that will never fade or disappear.


Beyond comfortable

So I’m on currently on a “put myself in uncomfortable situations” kick.  Not sure what brought this on, but twice now in a week I’ve willingly done something that makes me feel…awkward.  Anxious.  Out of place.

First was the staff dance that teachers and other adults in my school perform every year at the Homecoming assembly.  Yeah, I’m not big on dancing-at least not in that situation.  I’m all for shakin’ it on the dance floor at a wedding, but the teacher dance has always been an activity I avoid like the plague.  Making a fool of myself in front of the whole student body is not my thing.  I figure, I probably embarrass myself unintentionally during class at least once a day anyway, so why add to the humiliation by doing so on purpose?

It was so sweet being on maternity leave last year at Homecoming time, so I didn’t have to deal with it at all.  Almost every other year of my career, I was in charge of Student Council, which meant I was basically in charge of ALL of Homecoming.  I figured that, plus fall cross-country coaching, should excuse me from pressure to participate in anything else.

Anyway…back to the point.  I’m attempting to do the teacher dance this year.  I still, admittedly, have zero desire to do it, but here are a few reasons that override what I want.

Sometimes, as teachers, it’s good to let students see our goofy side.  It opens up conversation and builds connections.  Plus, I’m no longer a coach or club sponsor, so I do feel I ought to be involved in something in the Homecoming festivities.  And the biggest reason for making a fool of myself  in a dance routine?  It’s important to step outside of our “comfort zone” once in awhile.  Students are required to do stuff they hate, stuff that doesn’t interest them, stuff that terrifies them, on a regular basis.  Some are uncomfortable with reading, or group work, or tests, or speeches, or artwork, but they have to try all of these at one point or another.  Everybody has to go along with something they dislike from time to time, whether for work or relationships or general life-sustenance.

Doing this dance is my feeble attempt to show students that they shouldn’t be content just doing what comes easily or naturally to them.  There’s value and purpose in venturing beyond those things.  You never know where that first step into uncharted territory may lead.  You might discover a hidden talent or passion.  You might create a new friendship.  You might gain opportunities you never even knew existed.

For me, this is just one brief dance routine with coworkers, which I don’t expect to enjoy, but it’s yet another tiny step towards a braver me.  Heck, I was petrified of public speaking when I began teaching, but I did it anyway.  I found that once I got to know the kids, it wasn’t public speaking at all.  It was simply sharing subjects I love with others.  It still scares me an awful lot, but that’s nothing compared to the fear I had thirteen years ago.  There have been some rather amazing experiences and moments with my students.  Having the courage to face my fears is what brought me into those magical moments.

So, even if I look like Elaine from Seinfeld when we perform in a few weeks, it’ll be okay.  I’ll know why I’m doing it, and I’ll attempt to hold on to a shred of dignity (but I confess, I plan to be well-disguised the second we step onto that gym floor!).

Here’s to trying what isn’t easy!  After all, how many worthwhile things in life ever are?

top ten reasons why I’m a nerd

My nerdiness cannot be denied.  Now, as an adult, it’s not really a bad category, but as a kid, there were a lot of red flags indicating my nerd status:

  1. I absolutely LOVED to read.  All the time, every spare minute was spent reading.  I particularly gravitated toward series like The Babysitters Club, Sweet Valley Twins, and the Emily of New Moon trilogy.  The weeks when the school book fair was happening were like Christmas for me.  I couldn’t wait to pick out my new books and take them home and keep them in perfectly pristine condition no matter how many times I reread them.  My best friend and I would spend hours at the bookstores perusing our options and debating how best to use the money allotted for books from our parents.  Pages for All Ages was the best place to shop, as far as I was concerned.
  2. I wore glasses from first grade on through sixth or seventh (whenever I was finally able to get contacts).  My prescription has always been pretty strong, so my lenses were extra-thick and had to be supported by extra-sturdy frames.
  3. I did not wear jeans, ever, until I was probably in the eighth grade.  Nope, my fashion choice was stirrup pants, those lovely leggings with the elastic strap that went over your feet.  Pretty stylin’.
  4. Obedience to my parents was almost 100%.  I had a few slip-ups, of course, but I only remember being grounded once in my life–when I stayed out with a boy I liked for maybe an extra hour later than allowed.  To be fair, I hadn’t really thought my dad meant I had to come home by the prescribed time, because I had so rarely needed any curfew guidelines in the first place.
  5. I did not possess the right “look”.  I never felt like I quite fit in or kept up with the trends.  I did get a perm in the fifth grade, around the time it seemed pretty popular, but it was not a wise move on my part.  My ears weren’t pierced until way after every other girl in my class had them done.  I often borrowed oversized tees and sweatshirts from my older brothers.  I suppose I believed that was cool because my brothers were really cool, but I forgot the important fact that their clothes were not made for me, a girl who was three and five years younger than they were, respectively.
  6. I played the flute in the marching band.  Enough said?
  7. I never donned a cheerleading skirt.  I tried out for the squad one year, maybe twice.  Cross-country was much more my style.   Very little coordination required.  All you had to do was run and not fall down.
  8. I was drug- and alcohol-free throughout high school and even college.  Granted, there was a strong group of kids I went to school with who also abstained from drugs, but they were already cool to begin with and didn’t care what people thought, so they maintained their “cool” status even without joining in with the partying.
  9. I was an exemplary student.  Turning in homework on time and paying attention in class were not optional.  I admit I copped a little attitude once in awhile, especially if I thought I was right and the teacher was wrong, but overall, I did what was expected of me.
  10. I became a high school teacher.  I love grammar and language nuances.  I enjoy making up verb conjugation songs and have even been known to dance and sing on class videos.  I still believe wholeheartedly that reading is one of the best ways to spend your time.

Some of these things did present a few challenges while growing up, to be sure.  There were plenty of times when I felt left out or unwanted in a certain group.  However, I now recognize that a lot of the girls I aspired to be like struggled with very similar insecurities.  Almost no one makes it through the middle-school and high-school years completely unscathed.

I can’t really complain about my growing-up years.  I had great friends and we had a blast together.  I got to go to Disney World and London with my choir and band groups.  I never once regretted not being wild and partying with “those” kids.  My love for reading and learning made college a heck of a lot easier.  I owe a debt of gratitude to my sister-in-law for helping me find a sense of style, even though it took until my mid-20s to start getting there.

Every experience, whether good or bad, whether easy or challenging, helped get me where I needed to be.  I’m still pretty nerdy–after all,  I am a teacher.   I embrace those nerdy ways.