Steel-Souled Shoes

I return to this post and keep it close, sometimes adjusting wording but never deleting, because it reminds me of why it is important to keep your “mad spark”. Don’t you dare refrain from showing and pouring love onto anyone, while thinking of the lens’ of others. You Are Made For This. Looking silly often means you’re doing something right
my sweet, sweet hearts.

One night during my undergrad years of multiple jobs and express buses, a high school student got onto the late-night Ewa-beach-bound route with her family, decked out in her cap and gown, neck and chest filled with leis up to her ears. She got on by the Blaisdell Center, and I found it really strange that on a bus filled with people standing and wiggling their way around bodies just to get off, only 1-2 people said anything to her or addressed the fact that she had just graduated. As she got closer I beamed at her and her family, standing up so she or her mother could have my seat, and beamed a loud “Wow–congratulations!!!” After that exchange, a man in her group told me to never, ever change, and that people like me are needed. At the time, really needing to hear that, it rippled through me and I have never forgotten the rush of appreciation that I was simply me and bravely wore my heart on my sleeve. There was a tinge of nervousness but I knew if I were this girl, or a member of this family, I would have wanted at least someone to show some enthusiasm. I also know what it’s like to arrive and depart from a memorable life-marker of an event, via public transit. I have experienced shame from being at a busstop, while people are leaving in their cars, from a party, a class, a dance, a graduation…

Recently I was told, in a joking manner of course, based on some writing I did, which he didn’t understand or have a response to, “They say that, people who can’t DO, TEACH!” It stung, despite me knowing in my heart of hearts that it was untrue. I remained silent, and now that toxic person is far removed from my life, and I have formulated a response that he may never hear, and that is okay because it is more important my soul hears it. Truth is, I am GLAD it was said, because it allowed me to remember my gifts, my purpose, and my strength. I have also endured a few brunches and dinners where people are baffled at why I “don’t teach college, or at a private  school”–not there is anything wrong with teaching at these institutions, and who is really to say that one day I won’t? Point is, I don’t simply teach English because I speak English, and I don’t teach because I can’t do. I teach because I feel everything so deeply, and to a degree his higher paycheck does not comprehend. I teach because it has only taken a few people, saying a few things to me, to lift my spirit for years on end. I teach because I have the ability to look at trash on the street at A’ala park, and see opportunity. I teach because I don’t have any fear of walking through that park and speaking with, and hugging strangers. I teach because I can find a way to laugh even without shoes, in the rain, after missing the last bus. I teach because I am built strong enough to do so. I teach because I know dark places need as many candles lit as possible, in order for peace on, and sustainability of, our earth. Most importantly, I teach because I CARE. Teaching is not about me. Like creating art, it is simply something I have to do, not something I flippantly choose to pursue. It’s a calling only people who have given in to their own calls would be able to understand.

Standing in the back of the bus on that night in May, I did not think I was going to become a teacher, and my mind was still focused on journalism as I considered tutoring and teaching to be enjoyable, yet only part-time gigs. Now, still busy as hell, and trying to find as many thrifty ways to live as possible, yet more secure than I was ever before, I am so happy that I DO what I DO–teach. And to be honest, every time someone like him comes along I imagine them in front of my most challenging classes, and just KNOW they wouldn’t be able to handle what I did, and then I just giggle and walk away.

Author: Alix Veronica

I am a human, a woman, a child, a seed. I teach; I listen; I write; I ooze what comes to me. Lover of poetry, music, art, nature, The Revolution of All. Ever-evolving; Ever-returning.

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