America was a country founded on many ideals. People came here looking for freedom from persecution. Our country was formed by people who fought for what they believed was right and just. Over the centuries we have changed; society is different, tolerances change and evolve. This is what our country was created for. Celebration of diversity, of thinking. We have been bestowed with what we consider our unalienable rights. This is not a political discourse; freedom and justice mean different things to different people, and that is why we are who we are, where we are. As I was sitting reflecting on Veterans Day and those who fought for what we take for granted, it occurred to me that people really want the same things today as our founding fathers. So much has changed, yet, really, so little. Human nature is still human nature. We want fair, we want freedom, we want justice. I think of the sacrifice’s overs the centuries of people who have continued to allow this for us all, and I am grateful.
I’ve been doing so much personal soul searching this school year. There is much going on in our entire world, and more importantly, in our country which is truly toxic. As Americans we have freedom of voice and belief, and this freedom to be diverse can become toxic if we are not aware. The environment in which I work has been reflective of this toxicity, too. It happens before we know it and can be all consuming if we allow it to be so. I play a part in the lives of so many people; it is the job and career I chose. I chose it because I needed a job, but I also chose it because of my passion for books, and for education. Public education is a source for much discussion these days. Antiquated, maybe, not reflective of our society, maybe. But I believe in books, learning, and education with my entire being. I was so fortunate to grow up within a community – and a state – which valued public education. It took a village to help raise my schoolmates and myself, and it was not perfect, yet the opportunities were there for us if we choose to take them, and we were guided and supported by the community in which we lived. My life was not perfect or easy; just like everyone else, “stuff” happened in life that made growing up difficult. But my parents had hope, they had friends who helped, and a community that really reinforced their lessons to my siblings and myself. I think that might be what is lacking in the lives of my students and their families; Hope. Poverty can become generational and cyclical if allowed. It does not have to be, but it certainly can be. Without hope it makes it so much harder to survive the curves life can throw.I got scared this year. I gave in to fear. The fear that I would not be successful at what I do. The fear I would not be liked or respected. It’s odd that a strong person can give in to such fears, and yet it happens. It seems, too, that if someone treats you unkindly or without respect it is an easy trap to fall into; we begin to question our own worth and validity, even if we believe we know the truth deep inside. It is kind of what happens in the lives of my students. They are harangued continually – by their parents, peer and siblings. They are exposed to terrible realities; lack of even the most basic needs; food, shelter, love; hope. They are continually made to feel as if they are worthless – through the actions and words of those who are supposed to love them, through skewed societal norms, peer pressure and even a lack of basic understanding of school; reading and writing and doing math, and the value such things can bring to a life. There is little exposure or reinforcement outside of school for what is deemed valuable within the school environment. They are then expected to come to school and fit within the mold of the school setting; sitting in their seats, listening, learning. It is so hard for them, and I understand. But I also understand that is the job we do in education; we try to show them a different world, a different way of life; hope, even it is just for a few hours during the school day.
I can see the lack of hope in the lives of my students. And I can also see that I fell prey to it in my professional life. When people are brow-beaten and dictated to about how things WILL be it is understandable that it can go a few ways. A person can become resentful, bitter, convinced they are a failure; lose hope and perspective. A person can become meek, timid, afraid to make simple decisions; debilitated with fear to be considered wrong. Or, a person can recognize their own worth and their own abilities and become stronger. I fell into the meek territory for a while, but it is not a place I want to stay. For someone who recognizes her own personal self-worth, it has been a bit eye-opening. The reality is that I started to believe that I was not a strong enough person, a strong enough professional; a strong enough librarian; that I did not have what it takes to succeed any longer. Because I was told – we all were – that what we did in the past was not successful by someone who was supposed to have a better big picture, I let fear and doubt slip into my life. It has taken a lot of quiet thought and a lot of reinforcement from friends, from family, from colleagues to remind me that I am good at what I do. The opinion of one individual can matter, especially if that one person is the one who ultimately gets to affect my professional standing. But she does not get to decide my ultimate worth. I have given too much power to her words and actions, and I am grateful for the reflection time – and for the words, actions, and support of everyone in my life who matters to help me remember my worth. This is the person I want to be for my students. One who matters, one who helps them know that they do count, that they are worthy. I want to be a person who helps show them the hope they so desperately need. I want to shine a light into their souls and their lives. I want them to have hope.
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