Superpower [A Tough Love]
I’m not here to convince you I’m perfect. I’m here to convince you I’m not.
There’s a school in my old neighborhood that took the time to set up a book study, read my book, and invite me to one of their meetings. It was odd sitting there as a colleague in this work being asked to speak like an expert. It was uncanny sitting there as an introvert who spends a few hours turning into a temporary extrovert because the work matters. A few hours prior to the meeting, I had to quit beating myself up for the mistakes I made in the classroom. A few hours before that, I got messages and e-mails that made me question whether this system and I were compatible. A few hours before that, I was worried whether the students in front of me would pass this quiz I prepared for them with care. I woke up with my brain screaming my agenda to me. My brain found quiet in the crunch of my cereal and the misery others suffered on the news that day.
Doubt can enter my work like nimbostratus clouds do, and I rarely pack an umbrella.
No more is doubt more powerful than when the last days of the school year approach. From a financial standpoint, quitting sounds awful and awful risky. We lose our benefits, our pensions, our rights, and our steady salaries. From a human perspective, it messes us up to hear of well-meaning, hard-working adults leaving the kids in the care in the middle of the year, so we wait. From a personal perspective, the truth is Superpower [A Tough Love] | The Jose Vilson: