CFC Blog #165: What does it mean to believe?

I intern at a research school, and spend 40 minutes each day working with a small group of third grade students who struggle greatly in reading. I'm working with them to build their decoding and fluency skills, supporting them in breaking apart words and reading at a faster pace so that they can meet their goals in all academic areas. However, to be honest, these 40 minutes sometimes feel a bit tortuous (for both the children and myself) because the practice activities we must get through are not, let's just say, the most invigorating (i.e. lots of repeated readings of the same rather tedious text). So normally the kids get off-task or become avoidant or simply don't care. And I start to feel worried that they will continue to struggle to meet benchmarks and not pass the state assessments. 

As an educator, of course I never want to lose hope, but there are times I can't help but feel anxious as I want each child to love learning and succeed in their own unique way. However, after a long winter break, I tested my students today on their fluency - I was thrilled to see the progress they've made, and their little faces lit up as they marked a higher point on their reading growth chart. It's not always easy to notice small changes take place and the growth actually being made on those tiresome mornings... but Lauren's piece came to me at the perfect time, and reminded me to not let perfection distort my view of the real progress before my eyes, even if it takes time. Thank you Lauren. 

- Amanda 

What does it mean to believe?

I am aware that I struggle to truly believe things. While it may be easy to visualize what Christmas will look like for my family in ten years, it’s much harder for me to think through what a world without poverty, racism, or human trafficking would look like — even though I believe in movements working to eradicate these things. 

But if you don’t believe in something you are fighting for, then what is keeping you going?

I really had to ask myself when I was in college and fell into a grassroots campaign to bring a level-one trauma center for the South Side of Chicago. It connected students, young and old South Siders, and faith leaders from across the city demanding that the University of Chicago play a role in funding, planning, and building a trauma center. 

I was a heavily involved member for a little over a year, and during that year it felt like nothing was budging. Having people block traffic was just getting people who held power more pissed off, not convincing them that this was a good idea. I couldn’t sit through a meeting without thinking “what is even the point?” While I believed a trauma center was a human right, I struggled to truly believe I would one day see it with the same fierceness that the people around me believed they would. 

Then a few years later, the university announced that it would be opening a trauma center. All of those meetings, all of the chanting, the prayer, the raising bail-out funds…all of it came together, it now made sense. Yet in the midst of my celebration, I was angry at myself for not truly believing that this day would come, for giving up too quickly, and failing to remember that things were happening that I simply could not see.

I think about this time in my life often during the holiday season. In the Christian tradition, the Christmas story is the lament of Jerusalem for a savior. People had given up hope, settled in the fact that they would live in their own mistakes, sins, and brokenness forever. They did not believe they would see the day when someone would come and save them from themselves. And then, the unimaginable happened — the Christ Child was born, and everything changed.

As I think about the approaching New Year and my annual practice of setting resolutions, I am taking time to think through what exactly I want to see in my life, what my world would actually look like if that thing were in it, and what exactly I need to do to get there. To remember that even the unimaginable can happen when it feels like nothing is changing for the better despite efforts. And to not just give up hope because things get hard.