I don't think I'll be remembered.
And I'm perfectly okay with that.
Seems to me like our society is big on individuals becoming legends and leaving a legacy. I thought I could have that when I left my high school, but now that I'm a teacher, I realize that no one up and coming remembers or even knows those that have left, nevermind who they were or how they acted or what they did.
Tonight I wondered where this counter-culture feeling in me started. When my friend from middle school always talked about how we'd be friends forever, I knew we wouldn't. I knew that wasn't how life worked. I knew we'd drift apart (an ominous foreshadowing of our falling out). I just...I had a realistic view of the future, I guess. And part of me was certain she'd go on to be famous and forget all about me.
I wondered if I'd ever had any thoughts like that sooner in my life, before meeting her. Not that I'm aware of.
By now some of you probably think I'm fishing for compliments or being falsely modest, but unless I'm deluding myself--which is entirely possible--I really don't put stock into being remembered. Sure, I'll be considered briefly, maybe thought about fondly, but I'm not going to impact anyone so deeply that my name will forever live on. Maybe my ideas, my thoughts, will but they'll be free-floating in this stream of consciousness that is humanity without my name or identity attached.
And I'm okay with that.
I find it difficult to believe that anyone could be radically changed by something I did. I don't believe that's possible. I think a lot of other factors come into play, and I just happen to be one of them. I'm not significant. And that's okay.
But then I wonder if this means I'm not confident in anything I do.
A student's parent replied to a mass email I sent out, saying her daughter sang my praises. I was dumbfounded. Then I rationalized, based on the context of the email and the student and her relationship with Mr. Smith, that this girl probably already flourishes in every English class (maybe every class regardless of subject) with ease. I didn't have anything to do with it.
I listened to an hour long conversation between my roommate and her former roommate. I didn't reply, didn't say anything. Just sat there and listened. I learned much, but I realized my roommate must not have respect for me because I am light years beneath her. We've never talked like that, and she's never understood me like she understood her old roommate. Those two were on the same level of eloquence, of intellect, that I didn't even dare to utter a sound for fear of revealing how utterly poor I am. I always receive, but I can never seem to give back. Instead I concede in order to learn. How can I expect to teach?
My students don't respect me, don't respect themselves. I don't know how to reach them, to find them, to make them see. I'm not like the sub that could just chat with them about anything. "All about building relationships," he said. That's just...not me. I live in a closed-off way because I know that I will only disappoint and be disappointed. By never offering myself, I never have to let that disappointment crush me.
I keep thinking about how my teaching career should energize me and excite me, but it doesn't. I feel lost. What scares me the most is the fact that I can't back out--I have nothing to fall back on. This is all I know, all I have, and I'm so close to finishing.
But I suck at this. I'm not educated enough, not smart enough to teach, to help kids learn. I hate myself for hating this job, for fearing this job.
I hate myself in general. I keep trying to lose weight and get healthy, but I eat and eat and god then I--my roommate called me on it the other day, just joking around about how I'd be eating ever since I got back. That had been an hour ago. As soon as she said it, I hated myself and chucked my food. Then I went to bed. Because when I'm sleeping, I'm not eating, not blowing up into this fat ugly ogre that I actually am, not trying to fix that overeating with other bad habits. So I slept.
I hate how ugly I am, how unhealthy I am--mind, body, spirit--Oh, Abba, my spirit. I don't have words for You anymore, Abba. I don't know what to pray anymore.
I know this is just another valley, another low tide in the ever fluctuating ebb-and-flow of life. I know I'll climb a mountain again and rest on another plateau and inevitably return here and begin again. I know that. So I'll keep climbing, keep trying, keep hoping. Because what else am I going to do?
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