The Myth of Tolerance

I mentioned that I’m teaching Spanish for a local high school right now. Most of the classes I teach are responsible, respectful, and engaging. There are definitely issues with overusing cell-phones in my class, but after confiscating three phones and requiring they conjugate verbs to get them back, almost everyone has become much more efficient at hiding their phones when they come into my class. Ha!

There’s one class though that is particularly frustrating. They’re disrespectful, chatty, and uninterested in everything I have to say. They treat me with what feels a lot like DISDAIN. Which is an absolute trigger for me. Yesterday, I scolded them so badly, their ears turned red.

The first few days, I tried to tolerate their behavior. I tried to deal with their annoying ticks and rude attitudes. I tried to tell myself that I could accept them and get through the class. But it’s really hard for me. They drive me crazy! They absolutely turn me inside out and upside down. I feel intimidated, and small, which I frustratingly turn into either self-loathing, or others-loathing.

So, the past few days, instead of trying to tolerate them, I’ve decided to try something else. 

I’ve decided to pray for them. Here’s how I’m praying: After railing for several minutes about how these particular students are driving me crazy and asking God to perform a miracle of muteness, I pray something else. That I would see them. Really see them. Through their own life lens and not through my anger and angst and high expectations. That God would help me to care about them and give me wisdom in how to teach them. That God would help me serve them in a way that is worthy of my value as their teacher, and their dignity as students. In other words… I’m asking God to help me love them. That I would treat them as my neighbors. 

It’s easy to think the only thing we need is tolerance, which is definitely one place to start. But for me, it’s not enough. It doesn’t deal with my own heart attitude and irritation. Between me and these students are incredible divides. There are cultural differences, age gaps, and overall socio-economic class distinctions that make it hard for me to honestly get along with them. We are really different and every time they’re rude and disrespectful, I want to reach across that great divide and throttle them, thereby putting them in their place. If we’re honest, this is incredibly arrogant of me and doesn’t do a damn thing to build the bridge, it only widens the gap.

So, I practice faith. I ask God for help.

The thing about asking God for anything is that the help doesn’t come in the form of a magic wand. It comes with getting a good night’s sleep, practicing restraint, good teacher planning, (in this situation) and … the tender supply of God’s grace. God’s kindness and love for our neighbor comes when we ask for it.  

This weekend, as you go about your days, try practicing faith. You don’t have to do it perfectly. Take a few moments to turn your heart from tolerance to love, from independence to an authentic prayer for help, or from overwhelming fear to fledgling trust in God.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Much Love,

Tina