Dear friends,
In the middle of Christmas break there is always a stretch of idle time. The anticipation of Christmas has come and gone yet, I'm hopefully awaiting the new year. Idle time is a struggle for me— today idle time becomes writing time. As we look forward here is a reflection.
In early November, I was invited to speak at a local school’s diversity forum on disability awareness. The invitation was among the most surprising and special that I’ve ever received. It came from a student who was part of my first long term teaching opportunity. The semester I spent with this middle school group paved the way for a classroom of my own. As I teach, I’m still sincerely grateful that school leadership gave me a chance to try teaching. Furthermore, I’m grateful that fellow teachers acknowledged my passion and commitmentment. There’s an old adage that “teaching isn’t for the faint of heart.” This is especially true when you step into someone else’s classroom. In the middle school hallway, colleagues made sure I wasn’t just the substitute. I was always Ms. Lang. It made me a part of the community. It helped me see that adults recognized my potential even as an educator with cerebral palsy. I always feel a stronger sense of gratitude for being accepted into any community. There was a true sense of feeling valued in that hallway. It was my first job– even if only for a semester, I had beaten the odds. I was a teacher!
At the same time, I'm not ashamed or embarrassed to tell you, those students emotionally exhausted me. Students take advantage of new teachers. This happens regardless of who you are. Still being disabled adds an extra dimension to that setback. I immediately become more vulnerable. I know this. Reliance and endurance are among my strongest strengths. Sometimes, they are misunderstood but I must hold firm to rules and carry myself with a strong and gentle spirit. Those kiddos constantly reminded me that I wasn’t really the teacher. They also reminded me that a firm and gentle spirit takes time and growth.
The experience was a challenge. It was also critical to who I am as a professional and passionate educator. Teaching is a calling. It’s a work of the heart and sometimes, your heart will break before its strength is restored. I’ve been teaching in my own corner of the world for four years. This young man is in high school. He's planning forums on diversity. The fact that he remembered me and invited me to share is so impactful. This experience wasn’t the first time I’ve spoken on disability. I am always honored when people ask me to share my perspective and story. Sharing the trials and triumphs is empowering. This forum felt different. This community had been such an essential part of why I knew my ability in the face of adversity was enough. My reluctant middle school kids and their supportive teachers were the reason my love for teaching evolved.
In the weeks since the forum, I have had the opportunity to reflect on the joys of overcoming. I’ve also had difficult dialogues about awareness and compassion. There’s been deeper understanding that my role as a disabled educator is unique and significant. I was called to teach because young people (really all people) need real life experiences with people who live differently and are dearly loved. The life that we endure together helps us build strong and resilient hearts. The hope of what’s to come reminds me of wisdom that has kept me radiantly resilient. Remember, God’s plan for your life won’t take you further than His grace will protect you. As the year ends, consider the ways the community has helped you grow. Make a commitment to live a radiantly purposeful life! May your burdens be few and your blessings many!
Joy & Hope,
Julie
