The following is a tribute to the caring professionals I have the privilege of working with and to those in classrooms throughout our nation. They are the unsung heroes who labor with little acknowledgement and modest compensation.
These are the faithful teachers asked to spin more gold with less and less straw. If you know a teacher, take a moment to thank them…for the future of our nation depends upon the youth filling their classrooms today!
I do not have a lot of pretty pictures to fill this post with…perhaps fitting in light of its message:
The Faithful
Who blows the trumpet
When the trumpeters have gone
Sullen and morose, kicking dirt
Discouragement their weary pied piper
Yet some will wait behind
For hopeful words from on high
Glancing towards the heavens
For rainbows of possibilities
There is not a lot to smile about these days. Economic crisis splashes the news with gloom and doom except for intermittent reports of weather catastrophes.
People at my work grow hopeless and sullen. Many brace for the devastation resulting from next year’s pay cuts. Some speak of finding second jobs, which seems unbelievable in light of how hard they work at the first one.
Others wrestle with the possibility of loosing homes due to insufficient funds. Yet all the while, youth grow increasingly unmotivated, belligerent, and unruly.
Yesterday at my school, the trumpeters seemed to have all gone home. Those of us left faced working without a promising future.
I felt the migraine crawl up my neck and into my skull while raucous students squirmed in seats, laughed with friends, and refused to listen. From the first class to the last, the migraine grew until their high-pitched voices sent shards of pain through my brain.
Drama, fights, and cries all muffled the intended lesson. “The 7th grade State Writing Exam looms only two weeks away,” I cried inside while my trumpet fell to the floor. I did not have the breath to blow one more time.
I tell myself there has to be hope. My colleagues and I look for any glint of promise. We work without trumpeters heralding the good to come. We only hear the voices of warning, “Prepare for ruin!”
So today I pay tribute to “the faithful.” These are those weary teachers who faithfully work in spite of the dark storm gathering. Maybe this generation will one day glance back over shoulder and thank them. If not, I know heaven will!
Hurricane photo courtesy of John Larew www.pbase.com/nc911/image/84186408
JoDee Luna Art 
This one got to me my friend. We will blow the trumpets….yes we will. You just wait. Us and our offspring. Wait and see…wait and see. b
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You have chosen a career in formal education; your job is never complete. You welcome students passed along from their last teacher, then teach, influence and disciple for a short time, then pass them along to their next learning experience.
For 25 years in several cities and 2 states I counseled young women in crisis. Because the crisis was often quickly resolved I rarely got to know any ling-term effects of our time together.
Several times over the years God allowed a glimpse through His window for my encouragement. Once in the drive-thru window at McDonald’s I got to see a former client who had left my office determined to abort. There she was, taking my order in her maternity uniform, beaming and beautifully pregnant. Married, she was working while her husband finished his college degree! Our 2 hours together mattered.
Look for the windows. You are teaching and they are learning.
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What powerful imagery, “Look for the windows.” I am going to explore that concept in a blog post. Sometimes the windows seem so high up on the wall I try to scale in order to reach students. Thank you for passing on this encouragement. I really needed this encouraging story! Who knows, perhaps I will have that young woman’s child in my class one day.
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