On Grace

There are so many thoughts swirling around in my head these days. Thoughts of masks, mandates, and inter-office mail delivery. I'm thinking about students, staff, and sanitizers. I worry about families, food, and first aid equipment. I'll be honest, it's a lot. 

We have worked so hard to be ready for our students to return to in-person learning since we last saw them in March. So much has happened since then in our world. So much is continuing to happen in our world. It feels like a lot. 

This week I was listening to a podcast by George Couros (@gcouros), and he related one of his favorite stories from Stephen Covey's book "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People." In the book, Covey describes what he calls "a mini-paradigm shift" as he shared this experience on a New York City subway: 

Suddenly a man and his children entered the subway car. The children were so loud and rambunctious that instantly the whole climate changed. The man sat down next to me and closed his eyes, apparently oblivious to the situation. The children were yelling back and forth, throwing things, even grabbing people's papers. It was very disturbing. And yet, the man sitting next to me did nothing. 

It was difficult not to feel irritated. I could not believe that he could be so insensitive to let his children run wild like that and do nothing about it, taking no responsibility at all. It was easy to see that everyone else on the subway felt irritated too. So finally, with what I felt was unusual patience and restraint, I turned to him and said, "Sir, your children are really disturbing a lot of people. I wonder if you couldn't control them a little more? 

The man lifted his gaze as if to come to a consciousness of the situation for the first time and said softly, "Oh, you're right. I guess I should do something about it. We just came from the hospital where their mother died an hour ago. I don't know what to think, and I guess they don't know how to handle it either." 

And just in case you think moments like that happen only to people like Covey, a world-renowned speaker, and consultant, consider this moment from very early in my own teaching career. You know, the time when I knew everything there is to know about teaching, while only in my second year in the profession. 

I can still vividly remember it as if it happened yesterday. I was collecting homework in a very public way. Asking students to bring it to me at my desk while they were busy working on another assignment. This particular child came up empty-handed, a regular occurrence as I recall, and when I asked where the homework was, there was no answer. 

I then proceeded to publicly and loudly scold him for the fact that he didn't have his homework, stating aloud that he usually didn't have his homework and further wondering for everyone in the room to hear if he cared enough about his education to do his homework. Finally, I asked him, not in an inside voice, if he had a good reason for not doing his homework. To this day, I still get a pit in my stomach when I see his face as he delivered this answer to me: 

"My little brother ran away from home last night, and so we went out looking for him." 

Whether you're Stephen Covey on a New York City subway, a second-year teacher in Chicago, or someone just trying to put one foot in front of the other during a global health pandemic, I urge us all to give as much grace as we can. Give grace to each other and give grace to yourself. 

In twenty-five years as a professional educator, I've never taught anywhere but a classroom with students physically in front of me... until this summer. As an instructor at the University of Vermont, I taught a graduate course from my basement. And I will be honest, as I was delivering my lessons to my computer, I really struggled because I felt like I was giving my students less than my very best. I couldn't interact with my students as I was used to, there was no back and forth between students, and looking someone in the eye virtually is not even remotely close to doing it in person. I have a real sense of what our teachers are worried about. 

In fourteen-plus years as a dad, I've never had to worry about multiple days of the week when my own children would be home, besides the summer months. We have made checklists and schedules, tried out routines and scenarios, and still, there will be gaps. I have a real sense of what our families are worried about. 

As we start this new school year, my hope is that we can extend as much grace to others and to ourselves as we can. Faculty and staff are working as hard as they can - and there will still be things we miss. Families are working as hard as they can - and there will still be mistakes made. It's important that we offer each other the benefit of the doubt, as we rarely, if ever, know what others are going through. 

With so much going on that is beyond our control, the best we can offer each other, and ourselves, is the benefit of the doubt that the mistakes we make are well intended and won't happen again. 

That is the gift of grace. 

Photo courtesy of www.fpcnorfolk.org