Appreciate the “Do Overs” of Life

Have you ever been trying to explain something to someone or recall a story and realize by the expressions on the face of others that you were not being as clear as you desired to be? In that instance, you might have found yourself making the statement, “let me start again”. The older I get the things I have come to appreciate more and more are the “do overs” of life. A do over is the grace of a fresh start. A do over is a second chance to make a good impression. Every morning you wake up is a do over. God is allowing you to begin again. A do over is the grace of a second chance and it really is a beautiful thing.

As I think of second chances, I think back to years ago and my first teaching experience. I had graduated with an undergraduate degree in English that I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with at that point. Everyone told me to apply for a teaching position. It was one of the few salaried positions in the area; therefore, I trusted the advice of others. As I entered the Board of Education to complete an application, I saw a number of familiar faces. Having worked at the Board of Education as a teenager was a great learning experience. It had been my first real job through a job training program. You know what happened next? I was hired on the spot! I couldn’t believe it. I needed a job and the school system needed an English teacher.

I was fresh out of college. I had not been out of school eight months and I was about to be entrusted with one of the greatest responsibilities there is—educating children. I immediately thought, “Someone really needs to be praying that my inexperience does not scar these children for life.” The first day of school was less than two weeks away. I was presented with an empty classroom, very little supplies, and textbooks that lacked teachers’ editions. I am not joking. As I looked over the multiple rosters, I saw that I would have four classes. I would be teaching close to a 100 students per day! I began to think, what did I get myself into? Could I do this? I would have to, wouldn’t I? My name was signed on a contract. I was employed as an educator. Did I have the courage? Where would I start? There was an initial fear. I possessed a fear of being shown up. Would I be seen as someone who couldn’t take the pressure and intensity of the first year? No, I would not. All I knew was that at 22 years old, I had to find a way not only to survive this teaching opportunity, but to thrive in it. I was not going to fail. I had been given a responsibility. My fear immediately turned to faith.

With less than two weeks to prepare for the biggest job of my life thus far, I headed to the public library in two counties. I was at least going to give the impression that I was a pro. I researched teaching standards for the grades I would be teaching. I looked for books on lesson plans, classroom management, anything associated with teaching. I tried to track down some teachers' editions for the curriculum. I checked out everything that I could haul out of the library that day. I had so many books with me; my car looked like a bookmobile.

There were a number of memorable moments that year, but there is one experience and one student I remember vividly-some fifteen years after the fact. It was January 1997, and the student was Lance Smith (the actual name has been changed). Lance was about 15 or 16 years old and he was one of my ninth grade students. His reputation preceded him and not in a good way. I later found out that Lance was known by teachers and students as “the problem student”. Lance stayed in trouble. He had been in juvenile centers on a number of occasions. He had been given one last chance so to speak. If Lance messed up again this year, he would be taken to jail. Many were waiting . . . expecting Lance to mess up. Not me. I remember my first encounter with Lance just like it was yesterday. I was in the middle of going over my class rules, when Lance barged into my classroom. He entered like a tornado. The back of the door hit the wall as he made his entrance. The look on the faces of the students was a look as if this was a typical entrance for him. This had to be nipped in the bud. I stood there in disbelief. I could not believe that he had just barged into my classroom. I gave him a “how dare you enter my room that way” look. His immediate response was, “Oh, sorry about that. I just got off of probation.” Without missing a beat, my response was, “I don’t care if you just got off death row. You and I will have problems if you enter my room that way again.” There were lots of chuckles from the class. “Let’s begin again,” I said. “My name is Ms. Austin. And, you are? Lance Smith, he responded. “Nice to meet you Lance. Please find a seat.” Lance made his way to an empty chair. And from that moment on, I never had any problem with Lance in my classroom. What had happened? The teacher within me had arrived on the scene. What had spoken was the voice of identity and integrity in me. The teacher within had stood guard at the gate of selfhood, and warded off a situation that could have easily insulted my integrity. This was a make me or break me moment. I had passed. From that point on, I made a conscious decision that Lance would be my project for the year.

Over a short period of time, Lance became more and more comfortable in my class. I treated him with respect, as I did all of my students. I listened to Lance’s story on a number of occasions. During lunch, my only quiet time of the day, Lance would often make his way to my room to talk. It was during those times that I learned that Lance was not doing well in his other classes. He had actually been kicked out of one of his classes! For me, he was a model student. When I asked Lance why he acted differently in my class, his response was, “you don’t hold my past against me. You let me start over. You didn’t treat me like everyone else treats me. I looked at Lance and said, “That’s what Jesus did for me.” Lance smiled.

Lance was a really bright young man. His failure in other classes was not because he wasn’t capable. He had a good head on his shoulders. He worked diligently in my class and when he was absent, he was intentional about making up his work. At one point during the year he was maintaining an A+ in my English class. He was very intelligent. Lance just needed some do overs in his life. In the space of my classroom he experienced a do over, a fresh start. I wanted Lance to experience the grace of a second chance in a different way. Lance told me about his family and friends and the trouble that he had been in. He had lived a very hard life for someone his age. When Lance talked to me, I felt I became his sense of community. There was a connection that was a working of God’s grace. Completely unaware of it, I had created a space in which the community of truth was being practiced. As Lance talked, I listened. He had a lot of potential that needed to be tapped. I tried to help him to understand his worth, and encouraged him that it was not too late to give his best in all of his classes and to think differently regarding situations that he might find himself in outside of school. I believed that Lance could turn his life around. I believed in him. My belief in him was facilitating learning. I was trying to help Lance understand his worth in a way that would positively direct his educational decisions and life choices. My immediate focus was Lance’s feelings. I wanted this young man to make it. He could turn his life around. So much time has passed. I am not sure where Lance is today or how his life has turned out, but I would not be surprised if he is a doctor or a lawyer. He had that much potential. I really hope he was able to turn his life around and that he is doing well. Before the end of that school year, Lance got in trouble with the law again. He was taken to jail. I went to visit Lance in jail. I took him snacks and a book on God’s promises. He couldn’t believe that I had come by to see him.

As I reflect on that first teaching experience and my year with Lance, I realize that so much learning took place during our short time together. I learned that the more I listened to his story and observed his life, the more I reflected on my own identity and integrity. There was a reason that this young man had been in my class and impacted my life as he did. There was a reason that this young man had crossed my path. God had allowed our paths to cross.

During that school year, Lance and I were partners in learning. As we cooperated, one with another, positive feelings and trust were established. Through this experience I learned what Parker J. Palmer calls the “The Grace of Great Things” in his book The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher's Life. During the learning experience of that school year, my classroom welcomed diversity, different opinions and creative conflict. I was honest with myself and with my students. I knew that I could not handle any of this on my own. It was God’s strength, the initial fear that had now become strong faith, God’s grace, and the blessing of the do overs of life. That year, I taught who I was—a person who had a heart for those who were within the sphere of her influence. With a passion for self-growth and personal development, I wanted to make a positive difference in each life. Unbeknownst to me, I was clearing a path to truth. The do overs of life allow you to experience the grace of great things. As challenging as my first year was as a teacher, I would do it over again. That challenging year has helped me become the educator at heart that I am today. Appreciate the do overs of life.

Food for Thought . . .

Think about some of your significant “do overs”. What have they taught you?

Who, in your past or present, is Lance Smith?

What do the Lance Smiths of life teach us about ourselves?