What's Your Story?

When I was halfway through the education program at my school I had a run-in with a professor that almost made me quit entirely. I was in block four (out of five), meaning I was almost at the finish line. At Florida Gulf Coast University during block four you are supposed to be part-time interning and taking a full course of classes. At this point I was working a full-time job, so I was only taking the classes and putting off the internship a semester. The only problem was that I was also taking a class from block two, which was basically and introductory reading course. With this course you were supposed to do a field experience and work with a student on reading strategies. I'd been in a classroom, but didn't really feel welcome or that the classroom teacher was making time for me to work with the student I needed to be with. Also, I was working a full-time job and taking a course load of classes, so it was rough. 

It just so happened that the classroom teacher and my professor were friends. The classroom teacher made it a point to tell the professor how unprofessional I was and that she didn't feel I was taking the project seriously. This resulted in a meeting with myself and the professor which ended with me in tears and seriously thinking about forgetting everything I'd worked so hard for over the last four years. Especially when the statement that haunts me (and by that I mean severely pisses me off) still was "Maybe it's time to think about if teaching is really for you". 

Now, I say that I was seriously considering quitting, but that really only happened for a hot minute. The thing was (is) that I've always known teaching was for me. I didn't need this woman, who knew absolutely nothing about my situation, to tell me it wasn't. But here's the thing: she knew absolutely nothing about me. She didn't know that I worked a full-time job. That I was incredibly socially anxious, especially when put into a classroom of a person I didn't know who didn't even seem to want me there. She didn't know that I was helping take my dad to weekly radiation appointments across the state or that I was dealing with a an on-again off-again idiot boyfriend. Or that I was struggling with horrific management at my job and people who were determined to make life an actual living hell. 

All this woman knew was that her friend thought I was unprofessional. Of course, had she known all of that she probably would have just said "Suck it up, Buttercup", and moved on. 

So here's the thing: we don't all wear our stories on our sleeves/faces/other places. It's not really in everyone's nature to spill your deepest, darkest secrets with strangers. Sometimes it isn't easy to tell these things to our closest friends or family. It is, however, so easy for us to judge someone before we know their story. 

Here's an example: A couple of years ago I had a student in my class who always wanted to be the center of attention. He called out, said inappropriate things, and was always trying to make jokes at the expense of learning. He got quite the reputation. But..the more I found out about this kid, the more I understood his behavior. It didn't make his behavior anymore acceptable, but at least I had a new way of looking at the situation. 

I think there are things in our lives that are unavoidable. I don't believe in the sentiment of "everything happens for a reason", but I believe that whatever happens to us helps us to be who were are supposed to be. What's sad is that even though we all have skeletons in our closets- we all have our unavoidable things- we still judge others based on what's hiding in theirs. Trust me, I'm not judging the judgers, because I'm guilty of it too. It's hard not to think about people's past mistakes and not to judge them based on something that can't be changed or undone. But as the one who has made the mistakes, it's even harder. Moving on is difficult, especially when your skeletons are bountiful. 

Not sorry. 

Judging someone is easy. Being that person who doesn't care is easy. Taking the time to be kind, to listen, to be a friend...that's the hard part. Sometimes people don't want to open up. Sometimes we think that we're too good to be kind to someone who was messed up so badly. You know what, though? You're never too good to be kind. Like, really and truly never too good. If you think that's true then I'm seriously judging you right now. 

Just kidding. 

Mostly.