Imperfection

I've made my peace with the pattern of damp, rainy, slightly chilly weather that's settled over much of the mid-Atlantic and New England this week. By my recollection, I haven't seen the sun since dusk on Friday evening, and the temperature has remained below 60 degrees in Worcester since Sunday. Yet the scene above, which beckoned from beyond my window as I awoke to the sound of light drizzle and hungry robin chicks– the eggs in the nest in the shrubbery by my other window hatched several days ago– kept returning to me throughout a busy day. Its tranquility, which lingers palpably within my room yet is unseen beyond my window now that night has fallen, is a comforting close to a day that included the following blessings:

• My 8th graders were taking a while to settle down for social studies class today. Amidst the simmering disorder, one of the students raised his hand and asked, "Mr. Ryan, were you a perfect angel in 8th grade? Because lots of these teachers think we should be, and I think they forget that they weren't perfect when they were our age." I responded that I was hardly perfect at that age– and it was at this moment that I suddenly had my students' attention– but that I can tell the difference between the natural restlessness of 8th grade boys who are about three weeks away from graduation, and those who are just looking for a justifying excuse to clown around. After another minute of exhortation to maintain discipline and respect, the same student asked, "Mr. Ryan, can we begin class now?" I happily agreed.
• A student was sent out of class today for a significant disciplinary issue that resulted in summoning one of his parents to school to discuss the matter with the principal. I happened to be passing through the foyer when the young man's mother arrived, and asked her how her day was going. Long before getting to the fact that she was summoned to school as a result of her son's behavior, she said, "Pretty good... I woke up this morning, I'm breathing, I've got a job..."
• One of the topics of discussion at community social this evening was the question of who is in heaven. A number of us were taking this quite seriously, citing all sorts of Church documents, theological writings, philosophical notions, and so on. One of the wiser men finally settled the matter, proclaiming, "Your minds are finite!"– a humorous and humbling reminder that we appreciated.

Oddly enough, moments like these are giving me more happiness than I've found in a while, particularly in my teaching. Even though the end of the year is generally a stressful time at school, I'm finding that it's helping me to be more myself, imperfections and all. The students even seem to be responding to that. With ten instructional days remaining, perhaps this will become a good, if subtle, lesson for us all to share as the year draws to a close.