Real.

One of my favorite songs that Clay introduced me to includes the lyric, "Change is hard. I should know."

That's how I feel today...and many days lately.

This adventure is so dang fun and energizing and freeing, but man, some hours are just plain HARD. And I mean hours. Most of my days lately have been filled with the full range of emotions, from utter joy at the simplicity and focus of our life to thanksgiving for our blessings and the love our family shares to fear and anxiety over how we are going to make this year work financially and spiritually and professionally. I don't think I have been an anxious person in general in my life, so these feelings catch me off guard a lot and throw me for a loop. I pray about them, and I know I am growing because of them, but if this blog is going to honestly chronicle our year of adventures, then I need to include posts like this one. Sometimes this whole journey is amazing. And sometimes this transition is just hard.

Today I had a student cuss me out in front of half of the teaching tents. I was trying to escort him to the main office after he had written me a rather insulting letter last night instead of doing his homework, but he didn't feel like walking to the office. No, instead, he stopped walking, yelled obscenities at me, and attracted the eager eyes and ears of a dozen classes around ours.

This is one of those moments. It's just hard.

The kids who come here are the students who are having significant behavioral, academic, or attention difficulties at their current schools. They come bitter because they don't want to attend summer school, yes, but they also come bitter from a whole lineup of bad experiences in schools. They jokingly label themselves as the "unteachables" and the "losers," so part of our mission here is to gain their trust, inspire them to try again, and help build their confidence. It took me some time as an educator to adjust to this focus, but I was starting to feel like I was doing an okay job loving on these kids while also showing them that yes, they can do it, and yes, they have thoughts worthy of expression. Justin was one of the last to "buy in," but I thought I had gotten him last week; I thought we were working together and moving forward. Sure, he had disrespected me multiple times before today, and he was a champ at not doing his homework, but I hadn't let this distract me from my ultimate goal. To use an often quoted teaching metaphor, I had seen a spark in him and I was eager to light the fire.

But something sparked today in another direction, and a piece of the puzzle that seemed like it was going to be rewarding suddenly turned into a very hurtful situation. As someone who has been in the classroom for 8 years, I know not to take attacks like this personally...and I'm not. But when Clay and Will came to meet me for lunch and heard what happened from a colleague who saw the whole thing go down, I looked at Clay and for perhaps the twentieth time so far this summer said, "Damn, this is just hard."

Our life this year and hopefully always is going to be full of wonderfully unexpected joys and intensely trying challenges. We knew that going in. But there are those days when the challenges hurt my heart and make me hit my knees. I have been humbled many times already. Do I wish we didn't have to think about money every day? Sure. Do I wish we could offer our friends the same generosity they have shown us lately? Of course. Do I wish we could see our friends and attend wedding showers and afford babysitters? Yes, yes, and yes! But we just aren't there right now. So I am trying to live in each moment, cherish the joys of my boys' laughter, and be grateful for the new experiencing we have been given. But being a teacher involves highs and lows. Being a mama involves highs and lows. And adjusting to new places and new people involves highs and lows. But all three also prize learning and growth as among not just their rewards but their purposes, too.

Here's to growing pains :-).