On teaching, and Draco Malfoy

Less than a month left of summer and then school begins. I've been thinking a lot the past few days about the kids who will be in my class this year - what their personalities will be like, what needs will they have (academic and otherwise) and how they will interact with one another (and with me). I've wondered which children I'll immediately click and form strong bonds with, which ones will require lots of time, love and work before opening up and trusting me, and, which ones I might not be able to reach. I've thought about this even more since JP and I saw Harry Potter last night....

I will refrain from posting a full review of the film. It was definitely good, very action packed, but not my favorite of the eight. I had trouble with some of the changes they made from the book (I almost always do), especially the fact that they left out Harry's struggle with Dumbledore - his wondering about the past and what he really knew of the man. I had just finished re-reading the book, and it bothered me that this major theme was missing from the movie. Anyhow, I digress.

JP and I spent a while processing the movie (Sydney Moulton - I'm still happy to have our process the film phone call, even if it is a bit after the fact). We talked about this last movie, and then about the Harry Potter story in general, Rowling's writing style, and her ability to bring to life richly-developed characters.

We talked about the characters we loved (Dobby, Hermione, Snape and Neville, among others) and the ones we despised (Bellatrix LaStrange - oh how much I loved when Molly Weasley took her out). Our thoughts about the characters were largely the same, both of us feeling the way Rowling probably wanted the reader to feel. However, on one character, we disagreed.

JP strongly dislikes Draco Malfoy and his punk-self while I struggle with him as a character, especially in this movie. Draco's life is unfortunate in many ways. He grows up indoctrinated by his mother and father, brought up to believe the "racist" lie that purebloods have some sort of superior status. He's a "bad" kid, constantly picking on the good guys and bringing them trouble. However, he's not ALL bad.

Despite his upbringing, Slytherin ways, and his evil pride, in Half Blood Prince, Draco struggles to fulfill Voldemort's orders to kill Dumbledore. He just can't do it. In Deathly Hallows, he won't tell Bellatrix that it's truly Harry who has been brought in by the snatchers, and he struggles to fight Harry in the Room of Requirement. I think that he's struggling against his desire to do good, to be on the same side as Harry and the role he's created for himself. Draco has gone a long ways down the path he's taken - he's a Death Eater, the son of Lucius and Narissa Malfoy, and he's filled the "bad kid" role for so long. But it's clear to me that, at least in part, that isn't who he wants to be. He just struggles to break out of that mold he's been in for so long.

And that, my friends, is the prototype of my favorite students to teach. I love to work with kids who are a bit "rough around the edges". The ones that have almost made it up in their minds that they are not-good students and so they try to act like poor students, but you can tell that really, deep down, they'd love to succeed. Or the ones that are the trouble makers. They've been the problem child for so long that it's almost a part of their DNA, and they act like they enjoy that role, but you can tell, really, they'd love to break free from those chains. I love teaching those kids. I love trying to help them see the sparks of goodness underneath the layers of disappointment, failure, and struggle, and helping them "take off" those layers, until they find the person they want to become. It's one of the reasons I enjoy teaching upper elementary so much - those layers can still come off, they haven't solidified. Kids have the opportunity to stop being the "Death Eater" or the "bad guy" and become their best selves. And oh, how I love to help them make that transition.

I had a student once who was much like this. He was smart, and a great kid, who had been hardened by many circumstances in his life. He constantly got into trouble, and was rude to the other students, and especially to me. He made me cry on numerous occasions, both from his harsh words, and my frustration with him not living out his potential. It took nearly two years of hard work, showing him his successes, pointing out his goodness, and showing him love for him before he finally opened up, and trusted me enough to try to change. It was hard for him to attempt to alter his identity, knowing that he would sometimes fall into old habits and need to pick himself back up and try again. But this student made tremendous improvements, ended up receiving a "most improved student" award, got perfect scores on his standardized tests, is in honors classes in middle school, and gave me a hug, as we both shed tears, on his last day of elementary school. Oh what a sweet day that was!

All teachers love having Hermiones. Students who succeed, love learning and want to be pushed to greater heights academically. However, if Draco Malfoy was a rising 5th grader - I'd want him to be in my class too.

Forgetting what is behind

Am I the only one who has an uncanny ability to focus on all that is wrong in (my) life? When asked the quick "glass half full or half empty?" question, I almost always say "half-full". But, in all honesty, that usually just applies to the glass. With respect to my own life, if I'm honest, I must admit that I am a bit of a pessimist. I'm great at beating myself up over past (and current) mistakes and worrying about the future.

As a Christian, I believe it's important to understand one's own depravity and sinfulness. Just as those who aren't sick don't need a doctor, if people weren't sinful, we'd have no need for a savior, and Christ wouldn't have needed to come. So, in order to understand the absolute necessity of Christ, we must have a proper view of the mess we're in and our inability to pull ourselves out of it. After God gives us grace and wisdom to grasp our fallenness and need for Him, we can genuinely repent and begin to understand the greatness of his gift to us in the cross. In my head, I understand all of this to be true. It's the foundation of the Gospel.

However, as I've written before, I have a really hard time getting past focusing on myself. I probably have as thorough an understanding of my depravity and sinfulness as anyone on the planet. I am a mess and I make mistakes on a regular basis, often the same ones over and over, despite my greatest attempts and desires not to. Though I wish I weren't, I am often selfish, prideful, inconsiderate, and too worried about what other's think of me. While all that sounds pretty depressing, I have confidence that, like I said, this understanding can and should direct me to a thankful heart for what Christ has done for me and a need for dependence on him.

Instead, though, I tend to get stuck in ruts. I either focus on past or current failures, and I convince myself that God will be near, in a fruitful relationship with me when (and only when) I get everything figured out and I pull myself together. However, I know in my head that's a lie. He might be directing me to fix things and he certainly will convict me in areas where conviction in needed, but he doesn't want me to stop and dwell on all my problems and forget that he is the solution.

This morning, in my quiet time, I stumbled over this verse, which I've read many times, but it hit me in a new way and it was just the encouragement I needed.

Philippians 3:12-14 "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

I am praying today that God would (daily) help me to forget what is behind and strain toward what is ahead. If Paul wasn't made perfect, maybe I (we) don't have to be either. We certainly don't have to (and aren't able to) work everything out ourselves.