Ministering

It's getting close to the end of my semester. The last day to drop is next Tuesday. Research papers are due for my 102 students next Wednesday. My 101 students only have one paper left to write. Finals are just three short weeks away. All hell is breaking loose.

My class sizes have dropped from the beginning of the semester, so I'm left with the people who are dedicated to getting their work done and completing the class. Some of them have let go of dreams of getting As and are feeling like they are earning their Bs or Cs on their papers. I'm still praying for some who dropped long ago for personal reasons or financial reasons. I have one student who will be getting an incomplete to finish her course because she broke her back in a car accident over spring break. I have another who was in tears this week when she came to meet with me. She said there shouldn't be anything to cry about. She's only taking my course and working part time. She lives at home, so she doesn't have much to worry about in the way of bills. "So why," I asked her, "are you upset?" It's the second anniversary of her sister's death. She would have been 22 this year. Her whole family is grieving again, and she's struggling to keep up with life in general.

This is a typical semester. People who don't teach might think my job is easy. I get big breaks during the summer and over holidays. I teach the same classes over and over so I know what I'm doing every semester. How bad can grading be when I only have to be in class 12 hours a week and in my office for 5? That leaves a lot of time to work on my own wherever I please. All those things are true, but I end up doing more than just teaching writing. I cajole, encourage and challenge my students. I counsel them, not just with their assignments, but with future education choices, careers, and family issues. I have had to refer them to professional counseling at times when things got really rough.

When I started my discernment for being a deacon, a friend of mine from another church asked me, "What will your ministry be?" "I'm a teacher," I said. "Oh, we'll see," was his reply, as if a teacher couldn't do enough. As a community college teacher, I am on the front lines of people who are very fragile. The kids who weren't good enough out of high school to get into, or get scholarships for, universities and 4 year colleges. The adults who didn't succeed in school and didn't go to college, only to realize years later they want or need a degree, but have doubts they will be able to do the work and finish a degree. The students who didn't get enough education in high school to get into college and now are working their way through developmental classes. And students who work full time and go to school full time and have children or parents to care for during their "free time." Teaching writing is a small, small part of my work. I am a minister.

I am reminding myself of that today as I respond to emails with my student who's at home still recovering from her back injury over a month ago. I have to remind myself of that when students don't show up when I have conference time to help them with their writing. I could choose to think they don't care about getting good grades on their last papers, that they just signed up to take extra hours at their jobs when they could have come to see me. But they have families to feed and choices to make. Money to pay for books for summer school might come at the cost of driving over to see me for five minutes making sure their grammar is perfect.

I am praying often for my students, and all students who are trying to make it to the end of the semester in one piece. I need some too, probably!