The misfits

I quit my job this week.

It was incredibly bittersweet. As challenging as this semester was, or has been, for me, I was sad to say goodbye.

I teach GED classes, or, rather, I taught GED classes. (Because my last day was Thursday, wasn’t it?) My students are often times the people with chips on their shoulders, who are sometimes too loud or too quiet, who have completely different perspectives than mine. They ride the bus. They live in the projects. Sometimes they have holes in their clothes. Sometimes they have missing teeth. Sometimes they are old and sometimes they are young. Sometimes I have no idea why they are in my class because they seem far too advanced. Often times they have learning disabilities that have either been diagnosed, or not, but never properly managed and they never have their corroborating paperwork. Some of them are sweet. Some of them are not. They often had babies in high school. Or they fought and, consequently, were suspended or expelled. Or they had family issues so severe and inescapable that they had to drop out of high school. Whatever the reason, they each had a story and they were in my class.

My class.

And as challenging as they could be to work with, I had a hard time walking away from them.

Why?

Because someone told me recently, and I think I already knew, that they have already had people walk away from them. They’ve had so many people give up on them. And now I’m just one more person walking away.

I’ve had some time to process that and work through it. But regardless, it does, at times ring a little true.

It comforts me to know a few things though, because I can’t be everything to everyone. That’s what God does. Not me.

1. I encouraged them daily. When I saw them doing something well, I told them. And I doubt if they’ve had a lot of encouragement in their lives. You can usually tell the difference between someone who’s had love and someone who hasn’t. People who haven’t usually have an angry glint in their eyes. And people who have, handle curveballs a whole lot better.
2. I wasn’t giving up on them. I didn’t walk away because they were too challenging. I just had to take a break for family and for my own academic journey.
3. I am going to be giving more of myself to the relationships and things that I have a God-given responsibility toward. My children and my husband are gifts that have been given to me, by God. And my first responsibility is toward them. As much as I care about the well-being of my students, I know that my children are mine. My students will move on with or without me.
4. My students seemed good when I left them. They’d shown improvement. They seemed at ease with the new routes they’d be taking. They wished me luck and asked when I’d be back, but they seemed okay. And I pray they will be as they go on to their next adventure.
5. I was challenged SO much by this class and by the location. My students, some, were very difficult. And my location was in the projects of Rockford. But I grew as a result. I grew as a person. I did well. And I can never regret that.

So, it is bittersweet-this “stopping” out as we say in the GED program at RVC. But it is good. And who knows, maybe I’ll be back sooner than I think. I’ll miss some of my coworkers a lot.

Someone told me this semester, “you love the unlovables.” And I don’t know how, as challenging as some of my students were, but I did care a whole lot.