Voices: Schools need Christians who will stay
Packing up my school offices for summer painting and cleaning and seeing another class line up for the graduation walk stirs my heart to think about leaving. There probably are a lot of good reasons to leave public school.
I have thought about health and bucket-list travel, and having more time to cook, clean, and spend time with family and volunteering. When weighing all of this and yet committing to work again next school year, it occurs to me that being in the public school as a Christian is a fierce calling not easily abandoned.
Looking back, my call to “be there” for students began in high school when my parents announced their divorce. I cried in class and was hugged by my French teacher in the hallway.
A special teacher let me have some time off from class to walk around and go to the restroom if needed. A counselor allowed me to go home early a few times. A nurse let me rest in the clinic, though we both knew I was not physically sick.
Caring adults carried me through a very hard time in my life. They were my people, and I decided to be just like them.
What kids need today
Today, schools are different than they were in the 1970s, of course. We are a body of different races, faiths and lifestyles. Poverty, illiteracy and inability to speak English create a kind of prison for some that is hard to escape.
Many students went through the separation of parents in early childhood. Fathers may be lost forever or perhaps never known.
What enables people to make a better life? We know education and skills do, leading to (better) jobs and money. Having personal values and relationship skills enables us to build a marriage and family, and to demonstrate our integrity to our bosses and community.
In addition to knowledge, skills and integrity, kids need faith lessons like never before. Christian teachers who understand these lessons and can live out goodness and compassion set a needed example for students.
Teens don’t necessarily want to dress like us, talk like us or wear their hair like us. They may not know how to interact with people of “advanced age.” They also may not want preachy lectures from us.
What they do want is dependability—a solid foundation that won’t crack under their weight or collapse when they make mistakes. Kids will test us just to see if we will leave them. If we leave, we will become one more loss or rejection for them to process.
Facing the challenges of staying
Near the last day of school, we had a drill. None of the faculty or students knew if we were under threat or on fire. We all marched outside and stood in the hot Texas sun. In those moments outside together, our differences did not matter. What mattered is the future and if we all would survive with bodies unharmed.
The nucleus of love, safety and learning always is surrounded by danger, possibly even terror. This is why we must love and trust each other. We must overcome our divisions—such as racism, religion or lack of religion, sexuality, lifestyle—and focus on our mission to affirm and educate students.
Can we find ways of working through the challenges? Yes. Problems associated with money, role, ego and mistakes can be fixed.
If you are a teacher, pastor or youth pastor, you may think about leaving, too, but maybe staying is best. Ongoing, long-term relationships matter.
The church really is not so different from school in that we must stay true to our mission—spreading the gospel and loving people. Side issues can be important and worthy of study but should not derail us from our primary mission.
Many try to discourage, anger and confuse us, because they want to see our faith and our beloved people in ruin. They make side issues larger than they have to be, turning a speck into a log, a molehill into a mountain. But stand firm. Do not let them touch your love or your calling.
“Lord, let us stay the course of our calling,” I pray for you and for me.
Ruth Cook is an educator assistant for an English-as-a-Second-Language class and is a longtime Texas Baptist. The views expressed are those of the author.