Remembering Sr. Joan

My first year in the classroom was at Saint Michael Indian School. I started this blog to record my adventures with Mercy Volunteer Corps who sent me to rural Arizona on the Navajo Nation. And I fell in love with teaching. I fell in love with grit that got between your teeth when the wind blew too hard on the dirt roads. I fell in love with the shoe sucking mud that dirt road became in the spring thaw. I fell in love with the janky old copier that constantly needed to be fixed. I fell in love with room 2; my classroom. And, I fell in love with Sr. Joan of Arc, an elderly nun who invited me in to share her space so I wasn’t teaching out of a backpack.

Sr. Joan passed away last week, and I am struggling with it. On one hand, I know that she is happy, basking in the love and light of the Lord she loved and served so well. On the other, more selfish hand, I am sad that her presence has left our earth. Her legacy lives on in the thousands of students she had in the more than 60 years she taught. It lives on in myself and the other teachers she mentored over the years. I am sad that she is gone, but happy for her eternal life.

So much has changed in my life and my career since I began teaching. I am no longer wide eyed and idealistic, and it takes a lot to not become jaded with the system. I am a good teacher, and I have no doubt that I belong in the classroom. I love seeing that little flash when a student learns a concept. I love the overflow of students in my room at lunch, laughing and eating, and working on assignments. I love being their counselor. I have talked students through relationships, friend dramas, worries about the future. I advise multiple clubs, and always take on the challenge of new courses, even when they scare me sometimes. But I have to admit that I am tired. I am so, so tired. I can’t even tell you how many times I have left my classroom feeling defeated, or in tears. And I know I am one of thousands of teachers who feel this same burnout. It is hard to stay hopeful or faithful when the energy has been drained out of you.

I can’t imagine myself doing anything else. Even when I have sat down and considered leaving the classroom, all other career paths have lead back to education. So for now, I continue on, with the peaks and valleys of education. Everyday I wake up and turn the key to my room; the start of a new adventure. Some days we are going to learn about the Monroe Doctrine, and other days we learn what it simply means to be human. Every day is a new lesson plan, a life of objectives, buzzwords, and the chance of success.

Sr. Joan taught me a lot of things in the year that we shared a classroom. I laughed, I cried, I prayed, and rode the waves of teaching. I am 7 years in and look forward to the future-whatever that future may be. But, as I move forward in my career, it is important to look back to see from where I have come. Room 2 taught me a lot. The students and staff of Saint Michael Indian School taught me a lot. And, Sr. Joan taught me a lot. May angels lead you home.