I was slowly shriveling away as a school administrator/teacher because it was not what I wanted to do and I didn't know what I wanted to do. I was 20 y/o when I started working in a school full of children who were offspring of charismatic congregants convinced of the long term benefits of evangelical education, kids kicked out of schools or those whose parents were frustrated with what public schools offered. Much like the nursing home, classrooms were a gulash of behavioral issues: aggressive behavior, disruptive, attention seeking and name calling behavior that temporarily distracted from their poor cognitive abilities that followed some from prior schools. Like their instructor, each searching for identity. I didn't feel like I was making much of an impact. I taught subjects I didn't care about as well as corralling behavior that was a mixture of age appropriate rebellion and curiosity about life that the rigidity of religion only temporarily harnessed.
Experiencing my own interpersonal crisis alongside my students was a daily catastrophe, a journey into the abyss of recurring doubt by the end of each day. Often over reacting to age appropriate behaviors while challenging students to practice Christianity in its highest forms. They were exceptional at hymns and bible verses but like their teacher unable to meet the moral standards of the church. It was difficult getting up each morning to greet bright eyes and curious minds - I failed them each day with ineptitude and unpreparedness and misplaced anger. Then it happened, I noticed it happening
Students had the responsibility of getting to their next class but sometimes they lingered. I did my best to rush them along but there were always stragglers. My colleagues warned me against the possibility of students, especially girls, attempting to be alone with me. Despite the well intentioned warnings, students hung around and I allowed it. Most were trying to avoid the next class but a few had concerns that needed an ear.This became a routine but even to my surprise several colleagues eventually filed in behind them - wanting the same, to be heard.
With each voice, I had that same familiar feeling from high school where I was often accused of having many girlfriends. I secretly desired every girl who talked to me in high school which came along with me freezing each time they sat next to me. I couldn’t find the words to respond to some very delicate subjects that I was entrusted with in the lunchroom. I sat, I listened, I was shy and horny but mostly confused. Why so much talking and why to me? It followed me to that private christian school that my counselor encouraged me to visit and eventually attended,completing a BA in Psychology. That same uncomfortable feeling that always gave way to a heartfelt thank you.
We were all human and despite the lofty spiritual expectations of leadership most, if not all.struggled to remain in alignment with the religious precepts. In the end-the difference between me, students and staff: they were less inclined to leave the ministry. I left. I had to because something was happening to me that even baffled me at the time. Something that felt even more powerful than what we equated to worship. It was cerebral, spiritual in its own way instinctual, gradual and could not be avoided. I also couldn't avoid hurting several parishioners as well as friends but none more than my wife of 4 years. For years to come, I was awakened from sleep because of the impact it had on her. No one predicted it neither what was to come next..
