Last year I lost my teaching fire. It was a combination of a lot of things, but every day I just went home never feeling like enough. I didn't feel enough in my classroom, in my relationships with students, and in the reviews/feedback I was given. There were a few weeks back in March where I truly thought I wouldn't return to the classroom.
And that terrified me.
I know everyone says that you shouldn't let teaching be part of your identity, but I'd like you to find an educator who can honestly say that they keep their identity separate from their career.
So feeling like I wouldn't return to my classroom--the one place where I felt like I truly belonged--was heartbreaking. I had no idea what I was going to do.
Through prayer and grace, I decided to step down from a leadership position, and that helped lighten the load.
My focus for year 5 was that I wanted to get my fire back. It is my last year as Ms. Rivard before I gain a new last name (and so much more) next summer. I feel at home in my classroom, but second guess a lot of other aspects of my teaching career. I realized that last year I spent so much time worrying about the administrative side of teaching that I didn't have the bandwidth to focus on my relationships with students--my very reason for teaching. I vowed that this year would be different.
Imagine my disappointment when I'd been summoned for grand jury duty back in June. My reporting day was today. If selected, I would have to miss two days of work a month for six months. I thought, "Really, God? I’m trying to get my fire back and now you're saying I could miss 12-13 days of work? How am I going to create these relationships with my students if I'm not there?"
It may seem silly, but I lost sleep over this. My anxiety has already been bad with going back to work and adjusting to the new school year, to add that stress on top...my brain just couldn't settle down at night. I was so worried when I showed up for jury duty this morning. As they began to describe our responsibilities, they said we'd hear several murder cases, rape cases, and child abuse/child sexual abuse cases. I was freaking out in my seat. I can watch the occasional crime show, but the child abuse/child sexual abuse had my heart racing.
I know what triggers my PTSD, and I was triggered. I knew I would never be able to make level headed responses in situations where children and other victims were involved. I just kept sitting there thinking "I trust you, God. I trust you."
The judge began to ask for hardship excuses such as being a sole provider for a family member who is dependent, health concerns, etc. I texted Brian during the break, and he told me I needed to speak out about my PTSD.
Now, my close family and friends know the true inner-workings of my PTSD, and I can sit behind a computer screen and talk about it because I'm not looking at anyone, but to tell other strangers...? (Did I mention you had to stand in front of a selection panel of 13 people and a room full of 100+ others?) No. Thank. You. I told Brian that my PTSD wasn't a hardship and God would help the panel make the right decision.
As I sat in my seat, my heart was pounding and I was shaking uncontrollably. The next thing I knew, I was standing up to go up front.
There are about two distinct times in my life that I can say the Holy Spirit moved through me and pushed me forward, and today marks the third.
I stood in front of the panel and 100+ other people and said that I had PTSD from a childhood trauma, and I was concerned about the nature of the crimes and the impact they would have on my mental health and my ability to make sound judgments. The judge said she worked in the mental health division and applauded my self-awareness. Just like with everyone else who explained a hardship, she said that she would take my concern under advisement.
I was shaking and in tears. That is hands down probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.
I was excused by the grace of God.
Now, is there a chance I still would've been excused had I not stood up? Yes, but I think God used this entire experience to teach me a lesson. Sometimes I don't need to fight so hard or wait for some "sign" about something. In this scenario, He used my PTSD for something good that helped calm me. He is so, so good to me.
Because my dad was an attorney and later a judge, I was missing him something fierce through this whole process. I wanted to know exactly what would be expected of me. It's hard enough planning the wedding without him, so this was another layer.
I came home to flowers from Brian. He told me how proud he was of me for doing something I was so afraid of, and he was proud I stuck up for myself. These beauties can be seen here:
Do you see the one flower that isn't like the rest? My dad used to give my mom, my sisters, and me yellow roses. My sisters each had one in their wedding bouquets, and I will have one in mine. I asked Brian if he requested the yellow rose. He said no and he hadn't noticed it until getting the flowers into the car. When he saw it, he smiled, just like I did.
Not only was God beside me and walking with me today, my dad was too.
