just one person
“You just need one person...” - Mr T.
I am an emergency supply teacher!
I have been since the fall of 2021. The demands in the school system due to COVID and staff shortages led to a small crisis of personnel in our local schools. The call went out to willing people to fill in the gaps. And I answered. I’ve worked with children for many years - but I am not a trained teacher.
Kids. Hallways. Noise. Notes. Learning.
I’ve seen so much in such a short amount of time. I’ve “taught” French. A grade 7/8 split. SKs. Grade 3s and even my own grade 5 daughter. I’ve done yard duty. Nearly lost a kid in the woods. Drawn. Gym. Scienced. And been bested by a JK at math. I have even taught kids how to surf! Spreading stoke since 2021.
It’s been an education.
One of my favourite bonuses to emergency supply teaching is the impromptu conversations with Mr T in the hall. Mr T is the vice principle. And he is no fool. He’s younger than me. (Humbling.) He’s clever, compassionate, and keen as a whip. Mr T successfully strikes the delicate balance between love and authority. No child left behind; no child gets away with anything.
Our fly-by-hallway-gabs are short and punchy. Philosophical conversations on the state of society, childhood development, and the educational system - with a sprinkling of church-systems-theory added in by yours truly.
‘The church needs to change,’ I recently told him outside the main office. ‘The church as a system. The institution. But I’ve hit resistance.’ Over the months I had kept Mr T abreast on my goals and ambitions. The books and curriculum and projects I had been working on. And all those reasons on the mornings I couldn’t supply.
‘I feel like giving up,’ I continued. The previous few weeks had been full of challenges. I’d lost contracts. Contacts. Missed opportunities. My curriculum “roll-out” was more of a thud than roll. A mind of ideas but nowhere to place them. Like a noob surfer, I can’t seem to catch the break - make a break - find a break. My timing is off (?). My angle is wrong (?). I have felt out-of-step and discouraged. And the change I long for feels oh-so-very-distant.
Mr T - ever the wise (but young) owl - heard my lament. ‘But,’ he gently retorted. ‘Change is slow. Change is scary for people. Change is hard.’ As a seasoned veteran of the school system he knows first hand the trials and tribulations of “changing from within”. Systems resist change because systems exist-to-survive. System don’t necessarily want to change. That’s why they are systems. Else they’d be chaoses. It’s simple: anywhere that people are consistent gathered, organized, and structured - there a system you will find. Education. Work. Church. Family. Government. System are necessary. Needed. But changing systems is dreadfully difficult and painfully slow.
‘You can’t push over a wall,’ Mr T said. ‘You have to find where there is a crack. Wiggle into it. And just get one other person to wiggle in beside you.’
The gap will expand.
One person at a time.
And if when you’ve found enough people - then maybe, just maybe - the wall can come down.
Find the gap. Wiggle into the crack. Invite one other person to join.
What a relief.
I don’t need millions of people reading this my newsletter (though it would be nice).
I don’t need thousands of pastors to invest in my curriculum (though that would be incredible).
I don’t need hundreds of churches to bring me on as a consultant (though that would be exciting!)
I don’t need even tens of leaders to agree with my convictions.
I just need one.
Find the gap.
Wiggle in.
Invite one more.
And maybe that person is you.
- amos
‘tell good stories to seed social change’ That’s what we’re all about. If you need help telling your good story (collaboration, curriculum, content, consultation) visit www.chasinglion.com and let’s talk.
