One of the hats that I wear at work is that of a school counselor. I can’t speak for other districts, but Springfield made the decision several years back to remove counselors from elementary schools. That means that for kids who are struggling with trauma or mental health, or even more simple social issues – like making/keeping friends, there has been no one designated in the building to help in these areas.
My building made the decision to use funds provided from the district to pay for a position to help with behavior and social skills training, instead of using the funding as an academic coaching position – to help the teachers with their actual teaching of math and reading, etc. I believe that all of my colleagues would agree this was a better way to use the funding. In fact, other buildings began to model their programs after ours.
While the district is beginning to see a real need for counselors, at this point they have recently contracted a day a week with outside agencies to come in and provide counseling services to students with both a high level of need, parent permission, and the right kind of insurance.
And so it is, that I find myself donning a counselors hat and trying to do my best to help meet the needs that are not being met. I have not been trained to be a counselor. In fact, I remember sharing with my boss during the second year of teaching how frustrating it was to have gone through such an excellent special education program – like U of O’s and come out on the other end with training that prepared me in every area of my job – except social skills. There had been no recommended curriculums. There had been no practice or training around teaching these missing skills. Literally, I had just been thrown in and through a combination of borrowing materials, collaborating with others, and attending an amazing conference I learned a few things.
It is ironic that this is the one subject I now teach. Social Skills. I counsel kids and I teach them explicitly what other kids seem to pick up innately.
Yesterday I spent more than half of my day covering for a teacher who was gone. The afternoon, our principal freed me up and I went wandering through classrooms checking in on my kids and colleagues. One of the teachers stopped me and asked me to check in on a kid who has suffered from a great deal of loss. I have been working with this kiddo for almost a year now. She came midway through the year when she lost her mom. Grief and sadness run deep for this girl. Understandably so, right?
While her morning had been amazing, there had been a hic-up in the afternoon at recess. It seems it was around friend issues. But here’s the thing: She has been so overwhelmed and focused on the hurt and loss in her life that she is really struggling to see any good in it. This friend issue pushed her to think dark thoughts and left her unable to see or recognize anything different.
As I began working with her, listening to her express and share her pain – I realized that while our circumstances are not the same – our losses are different – as are our sources of overwhelm – we are both struggling to remember or see that life is not all bad. Life is also not all good. Life is a combination of both good and bad running parallel to each other like a train track. They are tied together – the good and the bad. Our challenge is to keep our eyes from focusing on only one track. We miss out on so many blessings when we focus only on the bad track – and we miss out on reality and opportunities for helping/serving others when we focus only on the good.
I can tell you that it seems so much easier to focus only on the bad right now. In part, because the bad is very bad. I struggle daily to force myself to get out of bed and move towards getting myself to work. Why? I am tired of the abuse. I am tired of the entitlement. I am tired of ridiculous laws. I am tired of parents who live in denial. I am tired.
My strength is so limited. It feels like I have less and less to work with every day.
But God is not limited. His strength does not run out. He is not depleted. He sees. He knows.
“Praise the LORD; praise God our Savior! For each day He carries us in His arms.” (Psalm 68:19)
I know that God made this day. It’s His. Frankly, I do not look forward to much of what I believe it holds. But I do find great comfort in knowing that in this day – in each of my days – My God carries me in His arms.
Blessings!