Thoughts on Failure

So, I’ve described how I’ve come to accept the notion of “being” with others as closer to my true purpose of life here. But, if our purpose is to show love, what if we fail? What if somebody feels worthless or ignored because of you? So you give them more attention, you’re more in tune to their needs. But then somebody else feels unloved as a result.

Sometimes this seems like an endless cycle. As soon as you’ve figured out how to teach one class, another class suddenly becomes chaos.  You spend some extra time with a friend who feels down, but then your previously happy friends feel down because you don’t have as much time for them. You work really hard on frying those bananas, but then the bread in the oven burns.

To love others is natural. To show that love, so that they feel and understand it, takes energy. How much energy do we have in a given day?

Maybe I can show my students 50% of my energy and love, co-workers 15%, my community 25%, strangers 5% and myself 5%. That will be enough for everybody, right?

What is “enough” love?

Surely everybody deserves 100% of your energy, attention, and love.

How can you show everybody love and care, and still show these things to yourself?

It’s exhausting.

It’s impossible.

It’s a delicate balance.

Somebody will always feel forgotten.

Say you are able to give 100%, and you still fail.

I saw this during my time in South Africa. My first day at the Coloured (mixed-race) school, the children told me how beautiful I was for being white and how ugly they were for their brown skin. I told them every time they said this how beautiful they were. I spent all of my time at that school with them, saying how smart, talented, funny, caring, and lovely they all were. Yet, I guarantee by the time the next volunteer came, they still commented on the superior beauty of his or her white skin.

What if they just don’t understand how very much they mean to you?

I have asked about a million questions in this post and I have no answers. I think this is a battle we will all fight our entire lives.

Is it worth it?

Of course.

I will try my whole life and fail and fail again, but it’s better than not trying. That’s what life is all about.

May God bless you with

discomfort at easy answers, half truths and superficial relationships so that you will live deep in your heart.

May God bless you with

anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people and the earth so that you work for justice, equality and peace.

May God bless you with

tears to shed for those who suffer so you will reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

May God bless you with the

foolishness to think you can make a difference in the world, so you will do the things which others say cannot be done.

*Thank you to Matt, a JV in Belize City, for this prayer

Why I Am

When you think of doing international service, you probably wouldn’t imagine the school where I teach. This is a well-off school with motivated, bright students with positive looking futures. Of course, it has its needs, as any place does, but compared to other places where I have served, it is a treat. I am supposed to be sacrificing myself, aren’t I? People keep saying I’m doing great things and they admire me. But what difference am I making? Am I really needed? Why am I even here? Am I more needed somewhere else? These questions circle through my head constantly.

Beautiful Pingelap

The day after Christmas, I embarked on a trip to a remote island called Pingelap. We spent 4 glorious days there swimming in the crystal clear water, watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean, walking from one end of the island to the other, reading in a hammock, drinking coconuts, and getting to know each other. (For a better description of the experience, visit my friend's blog post about it: Gabrielle's Blog)

It was beautiful to step away from Pohnpei. A chance to reflect on my time here so far from a distance, from a more grounded point of view. Again, these same questions popped up.

Why am I here?

And I thought of my students right away. But not of the tests I’d given them, not of any academic work. I thought of us talking, dancing, and laughing together. I thought of seeing them stand up to their friends. Seeing how they’ve grown, even over just a few months of knowing them.

That is why I’m here. I’m here to be with these people, to know them, to be with them as we both grow.

It seems silly, I’ve known for about 5 years now that I’ve wanted to be a teacher, but I’ve just realized why. Maybe it’s because I spent 4 years studying with an emphasis on researching and learning best practices in teaching, or maybe it’s because I never took a step back and thought about it. I always thought of the positive impact of education on a person’s life and the opportunities that it gives. Of course, I valued relationship building, because that impacts a student’s motivation to learn. I’ve built relationships with plenty of kids in the past, and I know that they’ve shaped me so much. And yet, still, when I thought of teaching, I thought all I was offering them (hopefully) was a solid academic background that could help to break the cycle of poverty.

But, I’ve realized, that’s not why I’m here. That’s not why I teach. That’s not what the kids need most.

Last week, I had 3 of the grades perform original pieces of poetry. Their poems blew me away, by their natural talent and creativity, their ability to show off what they’ve learned in their writing, and their courage to perform such intimate poetry to a room full of people.

One of students in the "poetry lounge" (decorated storage room)

Well, they inspired me to write my own poem. As much as I may try to explain how I feel, I think this (not very good) poem best explains my mindset these days:

I AM NOT THE TEACHER

Teaching implies that I fill your head with

-knowledge-

But I’ve come to realize

Despite what it implies

That all that matters is if I try

To make you never want to lie

And to be there for you when you cry.

Because who cares if you know 2+2

If you don’t believe in telling the truth?

Who cares if you know how to spell gratitude

If you don’t know what the word means?

Who cares if you know the bones and organs

inside the human body

If you don’t know the cares and feelings

inside that human body next to you?

I studied how to teach

But these things I did not know

Until I came right here

You see, you’ve helped me to grow

I’m supposed to fill your mind with

-knowledge-

but you have filled my heart with

-love-

-inspiration-

and

–awe-

I AM NOT THE TEACHER

A Return to Childhood: I < 3 RW

I have a problem. It’s an addiction. My community is very aware of it, and I recognize it as a problem, but I cannot stop.

I am addicted to Harry Potter.

It started the week that I arrived in Pohnpei, by chance the same week that the final Harry Potter film came to the island (fate?). I decided, for my first cook and community night, to make the evening Harry Potter themed. We had a feast in the “Great Hall,” I dressed as Dumbledore, and we did many Harry Potter activities.

Hangs on the door to our apartment

 It only got worse. My parents sent me over with a Harry Potter themed issue of People magazine. Rachael and I decided to carefully cut out the pictures of the actors and decorate our apartment with them.

It got worse. I began rereading all of the books and have often neglected sleep and/or work to read “one more chapter.”

It got worse. I often slip Harry Potter references or jokes into normal conversation. My friend wrote me a song for my birthday in which Emma Watson suffers many insults.

It got worse. My parents sent me all of the movies and a Lego Hogwarts castle for Christmas.

It was really this last point that drove home the lesson that I can learn from all this (really trying to find reason in this madness): I have returned to my 6-year-old self.

Hogwarts Lego, thanks Santa!

Remember being a kid and finding extreme joy in a cup of hot chocolate, in playing hide-and-go-seek, and dancing like a robot with your friends? Well, I have done all of these things in the past couple of weeks, if not every week over the last 6 months.

As you step away from the computer, live without a cell-phone, and spend all of your free time with the same 4 people, you get creative. You find things to entertain you, and often these are the same things that entertained the 6-year-old version of you.

I sometimes hear people say something like, “Remember how incredibly happy you would get as a child running through the sprinkler on a hot day/ waking up to a snow day/ eating an ice-cream cone? Man, I wish I was still a kid.” Well, great news, that Nickelodeon-watching, onesie-wearing, nose picker is still inside of you. Turn off the computer and go play tag with some friends. Forget work, spend the evening coloring with crayons. Put down the cell-phone and reread your favorite children’s book.

For, as Albus Dumbledore says, “It is our choices...that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”  

Skipping stones! (Molly, Rachael, and Brad= my community)

Building sandcastles! (Hiwitt, our neighbor, and Molly)

The Art of Missing People, Places, and Things

Last time I wrote, I had just sprained my ankle. Since then, I have recovered and can now dance, jump, and run with the rest of them. I have also gotten sick to the point where I have barely been able to speak. I’ve also had 40 (literally, we counted) mosquito bites on my back at one time. (But, really, mom, I’m fine!) Well, I’ve come to really appreciate my health, because absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Besides my health, I’ve missed a lot of people, places, and things over the past 6 months. The holidays were especially trying times (how many times can the radio play “I’ll Be Home For Christmas?”).

I’ve had a lot of practice missing people, places, and things over my lifetime. My mom gets frustrated because I seem to become obsessed with everywhere I go, often taking many months, or even years, to stop crying over not being in Italy, South Africa, Nashville, etc.

So, this experience is quite the challenge for someone like me, being away from all of my friends and family (although I’ve found new ones here), all of the places I’ve grown to love, and many of the things I thought I couldn’t live without.

One such thing is a hot shower. Anybody who has lived with me will understand that I LOVE hot showers. Much to my brother’s dismay, I usually take long showers, which I defend by saying this daily routine helps to center me. So, although I live in a tropical climate, I have missed hot showers for the past 6 months.

Well, this past weekend, my community went on a retreat to a nice hotel, complete with hot showers. I looked forward to that shower for weeks, and I was not let down. I will now share with you my journal entry from that experience:

“That was literally the best shower I’ve ever taken. The warmth filled every part of my soul. I got so sad just knowing I had to get out of the shower. It’s so insane, it was just literally the most pleasurable experience ever. I feel so content right now, I put on clean clothes and lotion and I’m going into a warm bed to read Harry Potter.

It reminds me so much of my routine in the states. I used to take hot showers everyday. Then I would get out, get on my laptop, quickly get ready, and eat my breakfast in the car on the way to school.

These days, the shower still wakes me up, but it’s much shorter and often more difficult (we have really weak water pressure). I sit and eat my toast and drink my coffee while reading spiritual books. I choose a positive mindset for the day, remind myself how I will treat people and what they deserve. I put thought into my day to come, rather than rushing into it.

This nice dinner, bed, shower, tissues- they’re normal at home. But I never appreciated them.

But the best part is that I know now I don’t need them, these things that I thought I needed, I don’t at all. Now I know I could live without most things. All I need are people to care about and God. That’s what I really need.

But, a hot shower is really nice every now and then.”

So, I have come to realize that all of these people, places, and things I always thought I couldn’t live without, I really can. I’m not living in South Africa, as I had so certainly planned a couple of years ago, but I’m still thriving. I don’t have hot showers and sometimes not electricity, but it hardly seems to matter. And, most importantly, I’m living without you, friends and family. Many of you guys, and admittedly I, thought we couldn’t survive 2 years without seeing each other. But, it’s 6 months in, and we are making it work. As I said, people to care about are extremely important, but we don’t need to see each other every day to love each other and to help each other to grow. There are people with whom I feel closer now that we’re a world apart than I did when I lived with them.

In short, reflecting back, I miss many people, places, and things. But this “missing” feeling is no longer a seemingly crippling emotion. Because I now realize I can do without most of what I thought I needed. As long as we care about each other, whether we talk or see each other or not, and we hold some form of faith, all is right with the world.