It is not the Critic that Counts

Lent 2014: Entry #1

As of late, I've been rather captivated by the Roosevelt speech quote:

It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.  The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is scarred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Over the past two years, my employment situation has become both emotionally and mentally infuriating, and this has been most expressed in my interactions with students and my closest co-workers in the math office.  I'm not surprised though, considering that an important part of a teacher's job is to connect - in ways beyond content material - with their students.  Teaching is as much social interaction as it is instruction.  Of course it's the interactions that keep us coming back to the classroom day; no teacher continues in the profession because they enjoy the paperwork and politics.  For me though, it's impossible to forget that as I continue to strengthen these relationships, there is a fast-approaching time where I have to make a clean cut, and walk away from this school in June.

So when I fire-up my computer every morning, this quote is the first thing I see.  There have been many visitors in my classroom, and I can't deny that I have benefited from some of their suggestions.  However, I have discarded much of it.  It's easy to condemn, critique and tear down; it's much more challenging to take your lumps and continue doing what you know is right.  So despite my frustrations, I keep myself professional and resist allowing any bitterness effect my teaching and interactions with the students.  After all, they have nothing to do with my inevitable departure.  So even though I want to be completely candid, authentic, and transparent with my students, including expressing my day-to-day emotions, I abstain for their benefit.  Ultimately, my job is to teach them mathematics, and hopefully I do that well.  More importantly, I pray that I am presenting myself as a godly example of a Christian-servant, and somehow end up teaching them how to think in a way that glorifies the Creator.

So together, as a teacher and his students, we press on against overwhelming curriculum and against our collective doubters.  And together we will continue to fight in the arena, knowing that regardless of the outcome, that we have not become the cold and timid souls.