By the Mercies of Words

I've come to realize something over the past month-- three things, to be exact. First, words are hard. Second, words are ambiguous, which makes them hard. Third, words bind me in such a way that I must realize the need to watch my speech carefully. Especially as someone whose task is to show students how to delight in the curious ambiguity of phrasing, structuring, and decorating words--to put it more simply, I have to be careful of my speech especially as an English teacher.

Recently, I dismissed one of my classes in frustration because they were too disrespectful to remember anything I teach them. As they were marching out of my class, they started thanking me carelessly. Indignant, I snapped "Don't thank me if you don't mean it." Immediately the thank you's stopped, and one by one students filed out still as ice. As I closed my classroom door, I overheard students making fun of me. Ever since that rowdy class period, I was torn about two things: I was worried that I wasn't fulfilling the role of teacher as an example while simultaneously trying not to care too much about what my students think of me. In short, I was worried about my status as a teacher through my students' eyes while trying to dismiss what they think and look the other way. Here's why.  

I'm a people pleaser. I tend to be swayed by what I think people think of me, which is the reason why I mentioned the first three points in the introduction. Since I tend to please those around me, I often become self-conscious in how I talk-- often too self-conscious. 

   But the thing is, I said those words to my students for a reason: I wanted to teach them the importance of meaning what you say. One of my pet peeves is when people throw words around like they would plastic bottles, which, as worthless as they are, they get recycled! Words, on the other hand, can have either a favorably uplifting or fundamentally deterring effect on someone. That was why I told my students to stop thanking me if they don't really mean it.

   In the midst of this conundrum, is there a solution to my never ending musing? Good news is there is.

One of my friends reminded me through a conversation about the true meaning of our freedom in Christ. She quoted 1 Corinthians 7: 23, which says that we were bought with a price not so that we can become slaves to human beings, but so that we can be free to live out the calling God has set for us. So if our true calling is to glorify God, and if my personal calling is to glorify Him through teaching the value of words as shown in literary classics, of what value are students' words to me anyway? Everyone deserves a little bit of tough love, but everyone ought to receive that kind of love in measured amounts. 

   I realize, as a teacher, the minute I put on my uniform, all eyes are on me-- students', colleagues', and even the security guards' and the cleaning services'. Why? Because I'm held by a standard--a call to be an example to my students. Specifically, I'm called to be an example of how to love, care for, and structure words so that conversations may be coated with grace and rich with hidden meaning. 

  Interestingly, once I mess up, all eyes are on me. If I succeed, all eyes are on me as well. The question is:  How do I maintain that standard, that measurement of tough love and forgiveness? 

By grace through faith and the mercy of words. 

But most of all, through grace. Grace for both myself and my students; but most importantly for myself, because I'm a fallen human being trying to lead other fallen human beings. 

Words, indeed, are hard, ambiguous, and binding. Truly, words need to be coated with grace, and that takes time and practice.