My husband and I have always enjoyed looking at open houses. We love our own house, but also love to explore and dream. Last week, we took all four kids to a nearby open house. We carefully coached them ahead of time and they did a wonderful job being curious but courteous. On the short drive home, Jeff and I discussed what we both liked and I looked at the information card the realtor gave me. Both in person and in his photo, the realtor looked very, very young. Jeff said, “He really looks like he could be in high school.” I totally agreed, but felt compelled to stick up for him. “Hey, there was a day when we were that guy too. He has to start somewhere.”
I remember what it was like to be a new teacher, still looking like a high school volunteer. On my first day teaching my own third grade class, I stood outside the door, greeting each student. I looked inside the now busy and full classroom, then at the cluster of parents standing in the hallway with cameras. Addressing the parents, I actually said, “It’s going to be okay.” With that, I left them in the hall and stepped into my first day in charge of their precious kids’ education. I can only imagine how young and inexperienced I must have seemed. I'm glad none of the parents chuckled openly at my one sentence pep talk! But, you know what? I had to start somewhere. I had to start working and learning and growing from there. (Incidentally, I’m still Facebook friends with a mom of one of those students - - a classroom volunteer so encouraging and supportive that she went on a field trip with me even when her son wasn’t in my class the next year)
A friend of mine is about to begin a Master’s program to become a social worker. It’s a very tough job with a lot of burnout. A program coordinator asked if she really felt she could do this career. She already has a testimony of God leading her this way and believes He’ll help her every step. When I listen to her, all I can think of is, we need good social workers and here’s someone willing to be a beginner; to humbly put herself out there. I’m behind her all the way.
I’m writing a lot about foster parenting lately. It’s my newest place of being a beginner. Similarly to my first year of teaching, I’m starting with some knowledge and experience, even if it's not all under the foster care umbrella. I’ve worked with kids before and have been a parent of my own boys for some years now. I took the foster care classes. I've taught a variety of kids with unique needs. However, there is so, so much that I don’t know. A day doesn’t go by where I’m not analyzing how I could have done something differently or what I wish I knew about kids in trauma. Sometimes, I feel badly for my foster daughters because they are our first placement and it’s such a bumpy road as we learn from our mistakes. But I remember my first class of third graders too. I think I brought a lot of creativity to the table in places where my instinct was lacking. By God’s grace, He will fill in my missing spots in this beginning place.
My kids need it to be okay to not be expert toy-sharers, tidy spaghetti eaters, or even especially emotional regulators. They are new at this. It'll take time, practice, and patience.
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