A story “passed down from several educators over the years”
Three construction workers were building the outer foundation wall of a new church on a hot and humid summer afternoon. I asked the first one what he was doing. He grimaced and spoke to me through clenched teeth: “I’m chiseling granite; what does it look like I’m doing?” I asked the second worker what he was doing. He turned quickly and growled at me, “I’m working hard for my wages!” I asked the same question of the third worker. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and smiled. “I’m building a monument to God,” he said.
This story was in one of my textbooks for Theory to Practice. It was meant as a “kick in the pants to reexamine our teaching motivation.” It’s such a challenge to keep up with my day-to-day commitments that I often forget that I want to be a teacher and I love to teach and I’m made to teach. It’s so easy to fall into responding with statements like, “I’m writing a behavioral referral; what does it look like I’m doing?” and, “I’m working hard to make money so that I can pay tuition so that I can get a ‘real’ job.” The lesson is a good one. However, if you know me, you can guess that it reminded me of something that is much more important than remembering why I want to teach. Comparing civil rights speeches with eleventh grade English students, discussing body shapes with junior high ballerinas, engaging in night classes, these activities are all supposed to be a part of using my life to build a monument to God. So, next time a student tries to tip me over the edge or Criminal Minds threatens to throw me into procrastination mode, I will try to respond by wiping the sweat from my eyes, smiling, and saying, “I’m building a monument to God.”
Three construction workers were building the outer foundation wall of a new church on a hot and humid summer afternoon. I asked the first one what he was doing. He grimaced and spoke to me through clenched teeth: “I’m chiseling granite; what does it look like I’m doing?” I asked the second worker what he was doing. He turned quickly and growled at me, “I’m working hard for my wages!” I asked the same question of the third worker. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and smiled. “I’m building a monument to God,” he said.
This story was in one of my textbooks for Theory to Practice. It was meant as a “kick in the pants to reexamine our teaching motivation.” It’s such a challenge to keep up with my day-to-day commitments that I often forget that I want to be a teacher and I love to teach and I’m made to teach. It’s so easy to fall into responding with statements like, “I’m writing a behavioral referral; what does it look like I’m doing?” and, “I’m working hard to make money so that I can pay tuition so that I can get a ‘real’ job.” The lesson is a good one. However, if you know me, you can guess that it reminded me of something that is much more important than remembering why I want to teach. Comparing civil rights speeches with eleventh grade English students, discussing body shapes with junior high ballerinas, engaging in night classes, these activities are all supposed to be a part of using my life to build a monument to God. So, next time a student tries to tip me over the edge or Criminal Minds threatens to throw me into procrastination mode, I will try to respond by wiping the sweat from my eyes, smiling, and saying, “I’m building a monument to God.”
Photo credit: www.northmetro.blogspot.com/
