Parent Conferences Change Perspective

I'm not gonna lie- every time parents call my room, or email asking for a conference, my heart skips a beat or two. You just can't tell when a parent is going to come in as Godzilla looking for innocent prey.

I have one student who hasn't been doing so hot, and his mom and I have been emailing back and forth all semester about his progress.

Yesterday the email read, "We need to meet."

Cue the defibrillator. I think my heart stopped.

After an hour-long conference with both parents, I am both pleasantly surprised and crushed.

These parents have restored my faith in good conferencing. They were positive, and weren't on the attack. We had a very encouraging discussion about goals and accountability for the student, as well as methods of praise at home.

I'm broken, though, over why my 10th grade student is drowning right now.

A mentor, a man this boy admired and trusted, burnt his own home down, and shot himself two weeks ago. It was all over the news- the school- the town- the paper. It's tough enough to deal with death in general, but suicide? How does a 15-year-old even begin to deal with the emotion and loss of that, especially a 15-year-old who doesn't know Christ?

My head has been reeling since my talk with the parents. College doesn't prepare you- student teaching doesn't prepare you- for the heartache you take home for your students. They are broken, therefore, I break for them.

Last night was a restless night for me. I'm usually the one to punch the alarm clock six times before finally rolling my body out of bed, but not today. Today I got up because I couldn't shut my brain off. This semester is throwing one thing after another.

I love my job, and I love my students. But I carry their pain, and it's weighing on me.

I was reading from Ruth this morning, and my eyes fell to the words "I will go where you go, and where you stay I will stay." Ruth made that declaration to Naomi. How much greater must God's declaration be to us? I find myself in constant prayer that God dwell in my classroom, because I just can't do it without him.

Would you mind writing my name on your hearts? This first year of teaching is more humbling and taxing than I ever anticipated. But it's also way more fulfilling than anything I ever dreamed.