Nobody's Perfect...Grace goes further than we think

This past year was not my finest in every moment. And I think it is important to say that out loud.

The honest truth

Nearly twenty years in this profession and I still have moments I am not proud of. Moments where I was short with people who deserved better from me. Moments where I withdrew when I should have leaned in. Moments where I handled something poorly and knew it even as it was happening.

Teaching does not make us immune to being human. If anything, the pressure of this work has a way of exposing every crack in our foundation. The exhaustion, the expectations, the emotional weight of showing up every single day for other people's children adds up. And sometimes it comes out sideways.

Grace for ourselves

The first person we need to extend grace to is ourselves.

Not as an excuse. Not as a way of avoiding accountability. But as a necessary act of honesty that says: I am growing, I am not finished yet, and the mistakes I made this year do not define the educator or the person I am becoming.

We cannot pour grace into a classroom if we have none left for ourselves. We cannot model self-compassion for students if we hold ourselves to a standard of perfection that no human being could ever meet.

Acknowledge the missteps. Make it right where you can. And then release it.

Grace for our colleagues

The people we work alongside are carrying things we cannot see. Stress at home. Health challenges. Grief. Their own professional insecurities and frustrations. The colleague who snapped at you in the hallway, the one who disappeared when you needed support, the one who said the wrong thing in a meeting, they are human too.

This does not mean we excuse harmful behavior or pretend things did not happen. It means we choose not to carry bitterness into a new school year. A fragmented faculty cannot build a unified school culture; unity requires grace extended in every direction, including toward the people who frustrated us most.

Grace for our students

Our students are not finished yet either. The one who pushed every button you had, who refused to engage, who made your third period feel like the longest forty-five minutes of your life — that child is still becoming who they are going to be, and so are we.

The grace we extend to them in the hardest moments is often the grace they remember longest.

The invitation

As you reflect this summer, be honest about where you fell short. Make peace with it. And walk back into that building in July/August a little softer, a little more patient, and a little more willing to give the people around you, including yourself, room to be imperfect.

None of us are finished. That is actually the good news.

💜💚 Teaching: The Real — Real texts. Real topics. Real thinking.