Thursday, March 09, 2006

Sometimes I Wish I Were Famous (Just a Teacher)

Sometimes I wish that I were famous.... a rock star.... or an actor.... or a successful professional basketball player. To look perfect, sound perfect, appear supremely confident, have the image, wildly succeed in front of others, have the lauding admiration of millions, attention, praise, ....

I look at celebrities I admire and who have had a profound effect on me, like basketball player Larry Bird, or singer Bono of U2, or Neil Diamond, and I analyze them. I watch them and am fascinated by their focus, their success. I think to myself that they have known pretty much their whole life what they would do. They completely immersed themselves in their career, studied it, swallowed it, and made it part of their being. Even at a very young age, they showed greatness in their field, and consuming dedication.

The results for them have been marvelous, remarkable, amazing. They have achieved notable success, and set a precedent that others in their field are endlessly compared by/to. I admire them both so deeply.

I often wish I were as successful as them. I sometimes look at myself and feel that I'm not nearly as successful as they are.

But then I start to see some similarities between them and me. Although on a small, local scale, as a teacher I sometimes feel like a Larry Bird or a Bono or a Neil Diamond, in that I have enjoyed tremendous success in my own career. I too have been admired, albeit by 13-year-old kids. I have influenced and inspired a few lives. I started out my teaching career strong, passionate, full of ideas, full of desire for independence and a need to do things and establish things on my own (kind of like U2’s career). I wanted to find my own personal theme as a teacher; like a sculptor, I sort of knew where I wanted to go and began chiseling away at what I knew would NOT make up part of my desired masterpiece. Teaching so far has been a quest to discover what my masterpiece is going to look like. I'm getting a bit closer each year.

And as I reflect on my career I see myself getting better and better. I have a growing quiver full of skills on my shoulder now, many of which are unmeasureable or imperceptible. I know so much more than when I began teaching in 1995. I have made a ton of mistakes, primarily in that first year, learned by trial and error, and now feel myself more effective than I'’ve ever been. I'm not perfect, but I'm a solidly effective, successful, accomplished teacher. I feel tremendous accomplishment and satisfaction in that.

I'm in my 11th year now. That means I've taught approximately 12,000 periods, and around 2,200 students. There are cities in Utah smaller than that. I've given out somewhere around 2,000 scored assignments in that time too. I've had students involved in murder, suicide, drug abuse, sexual abuse, self abuse, binge drinking, and just about everything you could imagine. I've seen broken bones, vomit, more zits than I care to remember, spontaneous tears, fist fights, stealing, bullying, conscience-less shameless lying, and bizarre, alien, psycho behavior. I've heard profanity that would make a sailor take notes. I've been shoved, kicked, pushed, flipped off, caricaturized, and criticized like Satan. I've been criticized and blamed; I've also been praised to high heaven.

I sometimes feel like I've lived 11 lifetimes, in that every year is crammed to the gills with roller coasters of emotion, barrages of questions, crises, defiance, decisions, and challenges. At 38, I feel like I've had a 50-year-old's equivalent experience, career-wise.

Just last Monday (March 6) a 20-year old former student named Mike Massé came to my school. He sought me out just to thank me. He had hardly spoken one sentence when he approached and embraced me. He thanked me profusely for the influence I had on him six years previous. I didn'’t even have a clue that I had ANY influence on him whatsoever. He told me that because of me he had published 16 of his poems and was still writing. He must have emphatically said, "You were my all-time favorite teacher" at least four times. I was so flattered and happy to hear him speak. My heart was profoundly touched. I was grateful to be a part of his happiness and progress.

My patriarchal blessing tells me that I will have an influence on those whom I least suspect.

I may not play basketball very well, although I absolutely love it, and I may not carry a tune worth paying for; but I feel some definite satisfaction in knowing and hoping that I am creating a legacy in my own career.

Rock on.

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