They marched with high knees and ran with the last dregs of adrenaline, back and forth, from the 18 yard line. Against the demands of aching muscles, and that injury that is for our boys especially profound-bruised pride, they ran. As a team, they honored their coaches' orders, and ran out- or maybe despite- their anger, frustration, and hurt. What better way to teach character, to model strength, than refusing to wallow in losses. By the simple exercises the team was forced to accept responsibility, and keep moving as a team. Their coach just guided them in their first steps after the defeat. I was more impressed by the conduct at a defeat than I would have been by a victory. These boys learn far more than how to play soccer.

There has been some talk about the underlying goals and purposes of MTC, but a simple hedgehog concept (thank you Mr. Collins) seems most appropriate: To give kids opportunities they would not have had otherwise.

Based on that perspective, when a teacher makes a student smile and makes it a little more likely that they will get something out of school for the day, the goal of MTC is being fulfilled. When we stay late to set up our classrooms, when we plan a great lesson, when we spend some precious time at a student's athletic event, when a struggling student makes a breakthrough, when a student sees a college campus for the first time, when students fill out college applications in our classrooms after school, when a coach lines his kids up along the 18 yard line to teach them a little something about pride, character, integrity....

MTC: Why

We lost tonight's game. It was a painful loss; arch-rivals. I had no intention of working the game upon arrival seconds before kick-off, but we had around 1200 people in the stands (source: rumor/principal's extrapolation), and of course I was asked. (Plus my mentor, who I love, was working, and I owe her more than a few favors). As usual, I started off a little irritated (Ole miss game tomorrow), and ended up loving it. There's is a particular sense of pride at feeling a sense of ownership- feeling like the host- at an event where 1200 people stream into stands to watch our boys, lead by our assistant principal and head football couch, take on an arch-rival. No restaurant I have worked at, including the fancy one with the white tablecloths, ran as smoothly, politely, or comfortably as the concession stand at our home football game. It's not really less stress- it's just more fun. It's like going into battle with your co-workers- the same one's you fought beside during the State Invasion, and the same ones you walk into battle with everyday. It's almost like you have no choice but to love them, since you are both part of the same fight, for the same kids. Seems a little dramatic, but that's the best way to describe it. Plus, the simple math, adrenalline rush, and physically fast pace feel so good after a day of teaching. Like a work out, it burns off the frustration, and it's easy to be succesful at selling candy bars, so you feel like you've accomplished something at the end. Anyway, athletics are an incredible thing to be part of, and even watch, in this situation. We get to see our kids shine, and realize how proud we are of them. And then we realize....

There are a lot of reasons to do teacher corps. Personal growth, character growth, career growth, financial beginnings, an incredible crowd of people, leaders that win our deepest respect, and many more. The only reason, however, that is a reason at all- the ONLY reason to do this- is that when you pour your sweat and blood and tears, free time and sleep time and love and faith (really) into this- there are a few moments when something brings you a few steps back from the scene- and you understand, as you hope but dare not trust, that something you did mattered. You really can give love, hope, faith, and second chances. It is so hard to let yourself beleive that anything you do matters, but when, rarely, it shows- well, I am pretty emotional, but I bet this could make anyone cry. I think I understand a little of what parents feel for their children. That is somehow what this job is like; you dedicate yourself to this, pour yourself into it- even when it's not healthy- and hope for the best. If we all honestly examine our reasons for coming here, I believe we will all find that we came here for that- to do something that matters, especially in a world where people seems to dedicate their lives to things that don't. We are all passionate people- the type that do pour themselves into something, and like I said when I first applied, if we're going to do this to ourselves, it's got to be for something worth the effort. Even when I feel like I am failing (read: every day), there are still those rare moments when I get to step back, and I have never been prouder to be a part of something. I wonder how anything else could compare to this.

I believe that the reason for staying is the very same as the reason for coming: this matters. That's it. That's everything. Dr. Mullins said it- the chance to make a difference. That's why.