The above photo came from a video I took, the quality is bad, but the thoughts I have about it are the point I am trying to make. For the past 20 (ish) years, I have taught religion ed. I started out as an assistant teacher to a woman named Debbie. She was amazing. She had a theme for every week, coordinated snacks, crafts, coloring pages, a fabulous lesson and probably even her dress to go along with the theme. My kids loved Ms. Debbie. And honesty, so did I. Her love for teaching about Jesus was absolutely contagious, and I was always just a tiny bit awed at how she pulled it all off. And then Ms. Debbie was in a pretty bad car wreck. She could not bend her knees, and even after months of physical therapy, she had a hard time getting around, and could not navigate the basement stairs to come into RE. I was left without her, and as hard as I tried, I could never, ever fill her shoes. But, my kids were still going every week, and they needed someone to take care of the class, so I jumped in an did the best I could. I found it to be pretty rewarding. I knew that the kids liked doing crafts with me, and that we could incorporate craft time into actual learning about Jesus. We stumbled sometimes and got way off topic, but sometimes having an adult sit down and pay attention to the things you think are important as an 8 or 9 year old is amazing too. I was never Debbie, but I was doing ok, and the kids were learning some stuff, I felt like it was important and an enjoyable way to serve my church. And so I continued for years, and years. And then came the pandemic. We were forced to do RE at home, we did not have classes for almost an entire year. I am not sure what changed. It might be me....I might be getting old and less fun. I might have enjoyed being home more than I enjoy going out every Wednesday evening. In my opinion though, something changed in the kids too. I hear teachers saying it, as well as my sister who runs a daycare. Kids are unable to sit still, listen well and focus on anything that you are telling them. Some have giant attitudes and think they don't have to listen. Enter this year's RE kids. They cannot read (or will not). They cannot retain it if you read it to them, they cannot repeat what you tell them. I can barely keep them scraped down off the ceiling for the hour that I have them. They do not know the prayers that they were supposed to have learned. Their parents are not taking them to church, so they are not practicing their faith, so using examples from mass does not work. I have been at a total loss this year. It has been rough. Last week, I gave them a project to learn the 10 commandments. I knew it would probably be rather difficult for them, so I told them if they knew at least 5, I would have a reward for them. Saige is in a class by herself, and they join us for crafts and activities. Saige took the challenge to heart, and learned all 10. The others did nothing. So I gave them a paper with the commandments on it. We went through each one and put them into layman's terms - kid don't understand "false witness" but they do understand "do not lie" Since Saige got both a box of candy and an elephant flashlight, the others were intrigued enough that for the first time this year, they were actively engaged in an activity. They were reading, they were using their brains to memorize. They were actually working towards a goal. They spent a long time, and for the first time this year, I thought MAYBE I can teach them at least one thing. They all ended up being able to recite all 10 commandments. We did a craft about Moses, we learned about his life. We KNEW the commandments. Success. And then the parents showed up. One girl rushed out to tell her mom she got a prize and knew the commandments! Her mom looked down and literally said "ugh! why do you always bring home so much JUNK from this class?" Did not let her speak, did not ask her how she got a prize, did not care what she learned. Me, being me, sort of wanted to punch her, but instead I responded "because we are learning so much about the love of Jesus:" Mom glared. The part of me that is bad smiled because the elephant light she "won" was awful - loud and obnoxious. I hope she had to listen to it all the way home! The other part of me, though was sad. It is sad that you care so little for your child that you don't even listen to what they are saying to you. It is sad that you couldn't be bothered to at least go through the homework with your child. It is sad that you only want a place to drop off your kids for an hour a week, and don't actively make sure they are living their faith by taking them to church. Honesty, what would be the point of bringing a child to a religion class, but then not following through by taking them to church? I can't think of a good reason. I am not being sanctimonious, I just literally felt bad for the kid. Do I do everything right for our family? Heck no! Am I perfect? Not even close! But I hope I have enough love for my kids to at least listen to what they say. I hope I always tell them I am proud of them when they accomplish something. It literally feels like the world needs an overhaul sometimes.
I will admit that at first, I was a little bit insulted that the mom had called the stuff from my class junk. I was making it about me....and I know everything can't be all about me. I had a lot of time to think about it after class and decided to make it a little bit of a lesson for myself about being a better person. Which is why I snapped these photos of my girls with their goats. It was chilly last night. After feeding the babies some warm milk, they were sort of shivering. We got their heat lamp going, and then the girls were sitting in the pen snuggling with them, kissing their little noses and we were talking. They were giving the babies insane names and giggling. The rain was dripping on the tin, reminding me of my own childhood spent in barns with baby animals, snuggling them and giving them weird names, making them little human-like friends. I thanked God for the childhood I had, where my parents were around, giving us the opportunities to learn about anything we wanted to, listening to us and helping us, acting like they wanted us around. And I thank God for putting Jim and I in a position that my kids can sit in a barn with the rain dripping on an old tin roof laughing about baby goats and feeling peaceful. They can talk to us about any subject without feeling ashamed. They can be who they are without us judging them. I hope that when they grow up, they will remember these kinds of things about their childhood and know that they had parents who loved them unconditionally. This is the last year I will be teaching RE. I never did fill Ms. Debbie's shoes, but I am thankful for the lessons I have learned, and for the opportunity to continue to learn. Maybe I have made a difference for at least one child, at least I hope.
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