Sleeping Through the Night

The topic of sleep is abundant throughout Lent. The disciples sleeping in the Garden of Gethsemane while Jesus prayed for the strength to carry out His Father's will for Him, and my habit of going to bed early on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday to stave off hunger pangs are two examples.

Okay...they may be the only two examples.

But, as I have mentioned in a previous blog, I have come to accept sleep as a luxury instead of a necessity. I think about the disciples falling asleep and deserting Jesus in His moment of need and I come to realize that maybe sleep is overrated. I also come to realize that my lack of sleep has made me somewhat obsessed with it as a topic.

And why shouldn't I? To my daughter, Elizabeth, sleep is just about the most important part of her life-- and not because she's a good sleeper. No, the reality of the importance of sleep is made evident by the question most frequently asked to parents of a 4 and 1/2 month old:

"Is she sleeping through the night?"

This question is followed by what may be the 2nd and 3rd most common questions asked to new parents:

"How many naps does she take?" and "Is she a good sleeper?"

Sadly, my answers to these three sleep-centered questions would be: no, many but for extremely short durations, and no. In my estimation, whoever coined the phrase "sleeping like a baby" was a fool. I've never walked on so many pins and needles in my life.

I realize that my honesty with Elizabeth's inability to get quality, night-long sleep will bring a plethora of sound, proven advice on the many remedies at mine and Emily's disposal. Let her cry. Feed her food. Give her water. Don't let her sleep during the day. Don't give her a pacifier. Give her a pacifier. Establish a routine. Keep her room warm. Keep her room cold. Keep her room dark. Keep her room bright. Play music. Play static noise. Be silent. Rock her. Leave her. Cover her up. Swaddle her.

Basically, there are as many ways to get a baby to sleep as there are babies.

On the other hand, I am the proud parent of a baby who doesn't "sleep like a baby." She's already displaying her exceptional nature.

Nothing seems as much of a rite of passage/measuring stick of not only Elizabeth's journey from newborn to night-sleeper but our abilities as parents as this "sleeping through the night" phenomenon. Elizabeth is somewhere in infant cyber-sleep on this continuum. Emily and I must similarly be lost in sleep.

To all who ask this question of new parents, I politely retort (and vow never to ask this of new parents):

1. How many hours constitute the night?

2. What is one's definition of sleep?

3. Does "through" involve a potty break/change, early morning (er, I mean late "night") snack or merely the completion of one sleep cycle?

It seems that until more definition is given to this vague requirement of sleeping through the night, a below average score for either Elizabeth or Emily and I is unfair.

The world of education calls this listing of requirements/criteria by which one is evaluated a rubric and it is an essential yet, sadly, rarely used part of the educational process. Too often students receive assignments and eventually grades without any idea as to what is expected (see my retort above) or how they'll be graded (i.e. 4 straight hours of sleep = 10 points; 3 hours = 5 points; less than 3 = 0 points).

In addition, a rubric should reflect the important concepts/objectives behind the assignment. For example, what does "sleeping through the night" have to do with child development? Of course it is an important facet of Elizabeth's growth and progress (it has to be, right?) but why is it given more merit than rolling over, holding up her head, following noises, making noises or grabbing things with her hands (all things Elizabeth can do, by the way). So, not only should a rubric help to identify point values it should also identify areas of importance based on those values.

If you have a worksheet with 10 items and assign it a value of 10 points and yet deduct a point for each item that is spelled incorrectly, you've actually just given a spelling grade instead of the subject or concept behind the misspelled words. Things like neatness and spelling have merit and should be given weight, but the concepts behind such attention to detail should be given more and be heavier. Otherwise, the grade that is assigned is for something other than the skill being addressed.

Sleep is important, but should it be given a heftier point value than focused gazes, following and mimicking sounds or fine motor skills?

As Catholic educators we must ensure we are doing more than just getting our students to sleep through the night. We must get them to define night, compare it to day, articulate the connotation and relationship between night and darkness, list out the stages of the cycle of sleep, summarize the benefits of sleep, classify behaviors during sleep into the different stages of the sleep cycle, and even evaluate the conditions conducive to sleeping.

As you can see, teachers must first identify the objectives behind classroom activities before telling students to complete an assignment. If these objectives are specific, student-centered and measurable, they can help to form the rubric by which the students will be assessed.

Teachers must be purposeful in not only their planning and instruction but also their assessment/evaluation. Answering the question "how" when it comes to an assignment is powerful. Answering the question "why", though, is magical. Both are vitally important when it comes to evaluation.

Strategies abound for how to get Elizabeth to sleep. Less evident is why such shut-eye through the night, whatever that means, is important.

Teachers, it's time to wake up and no longer keep our students in the dark when it comes to how and why we'll assess them.

Even if darkness is conducive to sleeping.

The Sound of Silence

One of my football coaches in college, Kirk Doll, would constantly say to our linebacker group, "It doesn't matter how you start, it's how you finish that matters." Coach Doll would say this to emphasize that no matter how well we may have started during a particular play or game, was not nearly as important as where or how we ended up on a particular play.

Examples of this abound in the world of athletics. Michael Phelps came from behind to claim gold from Milorad Cavic in the 100m butterfly during the 2008 Olympics. Behind for the entire race, Phelps out touched Cavic by 1/100 of a second.

Leon Lett went down in sports' infamy when in the 1993 Superbowl a hustling Don Beebe stripped the ball from Lett's hands moments before what should have been an easy fumble return for a touchdown.

During the 1995 NBA Playoffs, Reggie Miller single handedly score 8 points in the closing 16.4 seconds of a game for a victory over the Knicks.

The same thing is true in life, too. A baby chick is so much more attractive than an egg; a butterfly more visually stunning and graceful than a caterpillar; riding a two wheel bicycle is so much more liberating that a tricycle.

There is truth to this in the spiritual realm as well. Consider the examples of Peter and Paul. Peter, a liar and a coward, and Paul, a mercenary killing members of the very group that he would later join and lead, were used by Jesus to establish the Church after Jesus' Ascension into Heaven.

Truly, it doesn't matter how you start, it's how you finish that matters.

Even take Jesus as another example. Prior to spending 40 days in the desert, the time observed during Lent, Jesus was reluctant to fulfill the prophecies claiming His Royal Priesthood. After this 40 day fast and spiritual wrestling match with the devil, Jesus emerges prepared to be the Messiah-- teaching, preaching, performing miracles, saving us from our sins.

This liturgical season of Lent is a time for Christians to literally "turn" back to Jesus. Receiving ashes on our foreheads during the Celebration of the Eucharist on Ash Wednesday, we are told to, "Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel." Jesus hopes that through the season of Lent we will be better on Easter than we were on Ash Wednesday.

Jesus is telling us, "It doesn't matter how you may have started, it's how you finish that matters."

Lent is a time to strip away some or all of the distractions that keep us from Christ. It is a time to simplify our lives. It is a time to go hungry, as Jesus did, so that we can recognize our spiritual hunger for God.

It is a time for us to enter our own desert. Some place where it is just God and us. Some time when and some place where nothing else is happening, except listening to God’s voice.

There will be many desert experiences throughout our lives. Some, like each Lenten journey, will be self-imposed through an increase on our own parts in prayer, fasting and almsgiving. Others, like the death of a loved one, or a disappointment in trying out for a team and being cut, or not getting a job, or having our affection for another rejected will transpire unexpectedly.

But, it is precisely during these desert experiences that God is speaking loudest to us. C.S. Lewis writes, "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."

God will use those desert experiences, if we let him, to speak to us. It will be His opportunity to shout to us- to hit us over the head with what we should be doing and how we should be acting. But, He lets us make the first move. He’s waiting for us in the desert. He went there and met the devil. We enter our deserts and meet Christ.

He’s there ready to speak to us; are we silent enough to listen?

Family Matters

I draft this blog thousands of feet in the air traveling from Cleveland back to Tampa. Last night, Sunday March 6, my aforementioned brother, Joe (the one who is tattooed for Jesus) was inducted into the Cleveland Benedictine High School Athletic Hall of Fame. Arriving in Cleveland late Saturday night, that night and Sunday night were the first nights spent away from my daughter Elizabeth and the first nights spent away from my wife Emily since the birth of our child.

To say that I wasn't excited about the prospect of sleeping uninterrupted through the night would be a lie. Equally false would be if I said that I actually got such sweet slumber. In her four short months of life, Elizabeth has changed my sleeping patterns-- I was up every two or three hours anyways. On top of my inability to sleep through the night, I missed both Emily and Elizabeth fiercely.

But, this ceremony honoring my brother and a handful of other Benedictine alums, despite the personal and financial sacrifice, was not an event I was willing to miss.

Because to the Zelenkas, family matters.

In fact, in his acceptance speech, Joe linked the importance and connection between the Benedictine family and that of our own. First, my brother thanked our Mom and Dad; Mary, our sister; his wife and kids, Rebekah, Ben and Grace; our Uncle Dave (our Father's brother); and me. Citing the love and support offered to him throughout his life by these close family members, Joe recognized the important role his family has played in his many successes.

Second, Joe highlighted the fact that five Zelenka men have walked the hallways of Benedictine. Our father, Robert; his older brother, Joe; and his younger brother, Dave, all attended Benedictine prior to our 2nd generation attendance in '94 (Joe) and '97 (me). In addition to our attendance as students, our Uncle Dave worked for many years in the school and the adjoining St. Andrew Abbey as its Cafeteria Manager and Caterer.

Our family's many layered connection to Benedictine is not an exception to this historic school. Many students bear the legacies of their fathers, grandfathers, and I'm sure even great- or great-great- grandfathers. Multiple Men of Benedictine return to their Alma Mater to teach, coach and work in Administration at the place they called home for the years of their high school careers. The Benedictine Monks of St. Andrew Abbey bridge many of these generational gaps and offer an institutional history and stability akin to the familial pillars provided by our forefathers and mothers. My father and I had at least one teacher in common. I know that my he and my brother shared a few more. Again, to be connected to Benedictine in multiple ways is the norm, not the exception.

Because to the Men of Benedictine, family matters.

But, this atmosphere of family is possible because of more than just Benedictine High School's age. There is a spirit, an aura, a palpable soul at Benedictine made manifest by the charism of St. Benedict, the founder of the order: Ora et Labora, translated as Prayer and Work.

Every day, every class, every lunch period and even every practice begins with a prayer. Mass is celebrated as a school and by teams before every sporting event. The Rosary is prayed on the bus to away games. Players visit the campus's grotto before and after games and practices.

This reliance on prayer is coupled with an emphasis on hard work. Whether it be studies, extra-curriculars, or spiritual growth, a strong work ethic is modeled, encouraged and honored.

This coupling leads to the cultivation of a community. Our prayer is by nature communal. Our work is more fruitful when done in communion with others. Praying with others before beginning the work in which we will all partake is the leavening agent needed to rise from a school to a community and from a community into the heights of a family.

Any Catholic School worth its salt will have combined ingredients in a similar way so as to create its own unique, family atmosphere. Combining its traditions with prayer and hard work focuses the efforts of the whole in a unified direction. The school community then begins to love and support each other (students, teachers, parents-- everyone) in the same way that a family does.

It is said that a family that prays together stays together. I'd venture to add to this cliche and put it in terms of Catholic Education: the school community that prays together can become a family and the school family that prays for each other can come to realize that what truly matters is each other.

A Crucifix in Every Classroom Does Not a Catholic School Make

Prior to getting a tattoo of a cross on his arm, my brother told me that he wanted one because he wanted to be marked as God's own. In the same way that currency belongs to the country whose image it bears, my brother wanted all to know that he belonged to God. A bit much for me and my pristine skin, but I appreciated the zeal with which my brother approached this evangelizing body art. To my brother's credit, marking his body with a symbol of his faith in Jesus Christ was much more than a decision made in haste; he is one of the most faith-filled and Christ-like people I know.

But not all people are as consistent on both the outside and inside. Take a wedding ring that means little more than a commitment made until bored with you I become, or a cross/crucifix around the neck of an actress whose body of work exposes more of her body than it does her work. In these cases, the outward representations of something sacred masks an underlying contradiction. The wedding ring doesn't make you married; a cross around your neck doesn't make you a Christian. A tattoo on your arm is only skin deep.

Images and symbols, though, can remind us of something beyond ourselves and inspire us to fulfill commitments and remain loyal to a person or belief. W.W.J.D. bracelets populated the arms of high school and college classmates of mine. A few years ago, Livestrong arm bands had to be removed by Bishop McLaughlin football players I coached prior to games. In either case, the message on the strip was supposed to remind its wearer of a commitment to Jesus (What would Jesus do?) or a healthy lifestyle/finding a cure for cancer.

The bracelet doesn't lead you from temptation; the arm band doesn't keep you from smoking.

In the same way, merely including the term Catholic along with the name of a school does not mean that a particular institution of learning espouses the teachings of the Catholic Church. Merely putting a crucifix in every classroom doesn't guarantee that teachers will take the time to pray before class, before lunch, before a test, after a rough day, or to include an intention for a sick family member.

Earlier in February (and yes, I am frantically trying to complete this blog so that I actually have more than one entry in February!), Catholic Schools across the country participated in "Catholic Schools Week" (CSW) a week long celebration of all that is good about Catholic Education in our country. Typically, however, many of the CSW activities included in many schools have little to do with Catholicity, education or Catholic Education. And while I completely appreciate the need to break away from our routine as educators and offer some "non-traditional" days to students, I do not feel that a week during which we are supposed to highlight all that is good about Catholic Education is a good time for the school community to stop doing those things that make us who we are-- offering a quality, academically rigorous education firmly rooted in the foundations of the Catholic Church.

By no means do I feel that ICS cornered the market on Catholic Schools Week activities. Likewise, I do not believe that ICS always lives up to its Catholic title. The faculty, staff, students and parents of Incarnation, though, truly celebrated the best parts of the home of the Irish: Catholic Identity, Academic Excellence, School Spirit, Service, and Community (ICS Catholic Schools Week). We didn't wear pajamas. 8th Graders didn't give candy to, er...I mean "teach" younger classes. Learning still occurred. We participated in the Celebration of the Eucharist and a school wide prayer service. Over 300 bagged lunches were made for local food banks (Student Giving Projects).

Basically, we did exactly what we do every week-- just better. We were more focused on our mission: inspiring life-long learners, challenging each individual to develop spiritually and striving to serve each other and the community. We were more intertwined and closer as a school family. We highlighted achievements. We honored our past. We were, quite simply, our best selves.

A Catholic School, in order to be Catholic, also needs to do more than have a subjectively successful Catholic Schools Week. But, if a crucifix on a wall, or around our necks, or even tattooed on our arms can help to remind us of a life that should be lived in accordance with the meaning behind that symbol, maybe a Catholic Schools Week that truly celebrates a school's Catholicity can help to inspire that school to become even more Catholic.

Maybe a Catholic school becoming even more Catholic can truly prepare its students for the future and teach them that faith must be lived, regardless of any fashion accessories, paintings or wall hangings.

Or even any blogs titled, "Catholic Education."

Appealing to Thirst

The following is a transcript of my talk given this past weekend at Incarnation Catholic Church Masses to communicate information about the Diocese of St. Petersburg's Annual Pastoral Appeal (http://home.catholicweb.com/dosp_APA/):

As an educator, I consider the Beatitudes to be similar to an assignment description we’d give to students for a big project. Or, they are like a rubric by which we’ll be graded for our life’s work. Put in non-academic terms, think of the Beatitudes as a job description, an evaluation tool, recipe, instructions, or game plan for what God expects of us because of His gift of Salvation.

Do these things, Jesus tells us, and our reward will be great in Heaven. He doesn’t say that we’ll get a rebate in the mail, or that we’ll earn fame, fortune and the esteem of our friends and colleagues. He says that we’ll be rewarded, greatly, in Heaven. Be poor in spirit, mourn, be humble, hunger and thirst for righteousness, be merciful, be a peacemaker, allow yourself to endure persecution and insult and every kind of evil for the sake of justice, and we will be rewarded in Heaven!

And while this entire set of teachings carries get importance, there is one word that strikes a chord within my very soul and poignantly paints the picture of just how passionately we should work toward living out the Beatitudes: thirst. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be satisfied. In their verb
forms, both hunger and thirst translate word for word from dictionary.com (http://dictionary.reference.com/): “to have a strong desire.” But, and this is the former English teacher coming out in me, if we look at the noun forms of these words, hunger: “a compelling need or desire for food”, and thirst: “the sensation of dryness in the mouth and throat caused by the need for liquid” we notice that hunger can be a desire or craving for Doritos or chocolate or a Whopper even though we just ate, while thirst comes on much more quickly and is a much more basic necessity. So long as we have liquid, we can live for almost 8 weeks without food; however, we can
survive without water for 3 – 5 days at most, especially depending on the weather conditions.

So when Matthew uses the word “thirst” in how we should strive for righteousness, it conjures up the essential need for liquid innate in each of us and informs us that our pursuit of righteousness or any of the tenants of the Beatitudes should be as vital in our day to day lives as our need for water. If the Beatitudes make up the assignment description or rubric or job description than we should be inspired to not just be content with being a good father or an on-time employee or a once a week churchgoer or a recycler but that we should thirst for righteousness everywhere. We should be peacemakers everywhere we go. We should constantly show mercy. Not just on Sundays (or Saturdays) not just during the hour we’re here at church but always. This thirst for righteousness should inspire us, just like real thirst might
send you out to the water fountain, to get out of our pews, to go outside of our
church and home and school and place of employment into the world to make it a
better place. It takes only a few hours without liquid for our mouths to become parched, do we feel the same emptiness after a few hours of not carrying out the Beatitudes?

The Jesuits have a word for this constant striving, for this continual stirring within us to serve God, “Magis,” which means, simply, “more”. They identified it as a spirit that says aim high, even higher than you even think is possible and then work and pray like mad to get it accomplished. It’s a philosophy that says if you’re doing good works, do more. If you’re helping the poor, do what you can to help more. If you’re going to church or praying, go and pray more. Constantly strive for more, but not for
things or possession, but for ways to bring about God’s Kingdom here on Earth.

In our diocese this spirit of thirsting for more or “Magis” is made manifest through the funds generated by the Annual Pastoral Appeal. Thanks to monies collected last year in this appeal across the diocese, 1 million dollars went to Catholic Charities, $300,000 went to Pinellas Hope, $60,000 paid for a bus that doctors and other medical professionals use to go into migrant camps and offer free medical services, 2.3 million dollars paid for the education of a record 33 seminarians’ from our diocese, and close to 1 million dollars when to Catholic Schools across the diocese for not only tuition assistance but also to help subsidize the schools owned and operated by our diocese. The poor are lifted up, the mourning are supported, peace is made,
justice sought after and found—God’s Kingdom is more firmly established because
of the good work accomplished through the ministries and programs Annual Pastoral Appeal funds.

You’ll hear more about this Appeal over the next three weeks, and I’ll leave it to the next three speakers to talk to you about our particular numbers here at Incarnation and making pledges and asking for money. My purpose today was to make you thirsty. To make you realize that you were already thirsty. To make you understand that your cup has room for more it in it and that the small sips of righteousness you’ve been drinking aren’t quenching your thirst for it. To get you to see that you’re thirsty for more.

My purpose today is to plant a thirsty seed that will hopefully get watered the next few weeks and grow and blossom into something beautiful and fruitful.

I pray that if you’ve never given to the appeal that this year you’ll give something; that if you’ve given in the past, you’ll consider giving even more; that if you’ve never prayed for the success of the appeal and the ministries supported by its funds, that this year, even if its just today, that you’ll pray.

In a few moments, through our Celebrant, God will turn our gifts of bread and wine into His Body and Blood. He can do that. He can turn water into wine. He can feed 5,000 with 5 loaves and 2 fish. He can give sight to the blind. He can make the lame walk. He can make the deaf hear. He can raise the dead.

He can live after dying.

If He can do all of these things, certainly He can take our humble offerings during this year’s appeal and with them do abundantly more, “Magis” than all we could ask or imagine. With just a little more from each one of us, He could, through us and through our diocese, perform miracles.

Thirsty, anyone?

Higher Order Thinking

Recently, I was humbled and honored to discover that I had been cited by another blogger, Mr. Lou Judd, regarding my work with "Sports and Spirituality", a presentation I gave at 2010's Living Eucharist Initiative in the Diocese of St. Petersburg (SportsLeader). Not only did Mr. Judd include a link for the hour plus audio-visual presentation, he also highlighted the way in which I concluded the presentation. Synthesizing the Olympic motto with our Catholic faith, I challenged listeners (more specifically coaches) to think of Citius, Altius, Fortius-- Faster, Higher, Stronger--not in terms of athletic prowess but rather in terms of how quickly we respond to the needs of others, how elevated our thoughts are (is God a focus or a footnote?), and how we are strengthening ourselves and others to carry out the good work that God has in store for us.

A rather lofty set of goals for coaches and athletes and the world of sports.

A rather lofty set of goals for any of us.

As workers in faith-based, Catholic institutions, our work-- no matter what area-- must move beyond the temporal and touch on the eternal. We must have loftier, higher goals for our students (or athletes, or choir members, etc.) than merely winning games or acing tests. We must ensure that all we do points toward God.

But, success in these earthly endeavors is important. As Catholic educators, we must ensure that we offer a top-notch education to our students in addition to offering them instruction in the Catholic faith. The spiritual is more important, and it's what separates us from our public and private non-denominational colleagues, but we are obligated to uphold standards of academic excellence. Catholic educators must not only make students better, faith-filled people, we must also make them smarter.

Another rather lofty set of goals.

In a concrete way, our teaching must encompass a move from lower to higher order thinking skills. We must educate our students in such a way that they move from very basic skills (defining, identifying, listing) to ones that require a deeper level of understanding (compare/contrast, evaluate, infer, analyze, create).

In 1956, Benjamin Bloom, along with a team of educational psychologists, identified six levels of the cognitive domain (from lowest to highest): knowledge, comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation. His taxonomy was revised in the 90s, and updated names were given for the levels (again from lowest to highest): remembering, understanding, applying, analyzing, evaluating, and creating (click here for more information on Bloom's Taxonomy).

Knowledge at the lower levels is not as firm or intimately known as knowledge applied to one of the higher levels. For example, we may be able to read the word "connotation", define it and even be able to paraphrase or summarize its meaning. But, a deeper understanding of this word is required in order for us to compare it to symbolism, defend the associations we've attached to certain words, or even create a story in which the connotations of words used throughout it help to advance its plot, characterization or theme.

In order to advance from one stage of knowledge to the next, one must pass sequentially through the stages. In other words, in order to analyze, evaluate or create, one must first be able to remember, understand and apply. Therefore, information presented must be broken into manageable chunks and skills must be appropriately scaffolded. Just as we learn to walk before we can run, we must learn simple addition and subtraction before being able to solve word problems using either forms of arithmetic. Similarly, we must look at the steps involved in either addition or subtraction and present them to students in such a way that is logical, sequential and manageable.

To abuse yet another cliche: We eat an elephant by taking one bite at a time.

If we take enough bites we will have eaten the entire thing.

To impart knowledge that is meaningful, useful and enduring we must show students the connection between the ear and the trunk, the tail and the body. We must be able to get students to see the connections between and among their pieces of knowledge if it is to persist years, months, days or even minutes after a test or quiz.

We must get students to make these connections for themselves.

We must get students to leave the caves of lower order thinking and allow them to see the actual objects that had cast the shadows in the recesses of their former captivity.

We must liberate them, in the true sense of a liberal arts education, so that students can use their higher order thinking for some Higher Order working.

Their Deepest Fear; Our Greatest Task

This pasted Sunday our Church celebrated the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord. The official end of the Christmas Season, this important Feast Day marks the beginning of Jesus's public ministry, His association with our humanity, and His membership in the community of the Kingdom of God.

But, for John the Baptist, it also marked a very important event.

It was the moment that--despite any feelings of inadequacy, shortcomings or low self-esteem--he fulfilled the mission for which he was created. It was as if Jesus asked John the Baptist to take a shot at the buzzer, pitch in the bottom of the ninth with bases loaded, or kick a game winning field goal. John's response would most likely be ours, too, unless instead of blood we were blessed with ice running through our veins:

"I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?" (Mt. 3:14)

Or, in other words, "You want me to do what?"

But Jesus shows a confidence, belief and faith in John that John doesn't have in himself. Jesus, despite being the 'best player on the team', puts the game and its outcome into John's capable, albeit anxious, hands.

"Allow it for now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness."

Or, in other words, "John, you can do it. I know you'll make it."

I apologize if the sports' analogies diminish the magnitude of this event.

In the world of education, this would be the moment that the teacher reveals an utmost confidence in the abilities of a insecure student. It's the moment that the teacher tells a struggling student, "I believe in you. You've worked hard. You've studied. You are going to do such a good job on this assignment."

It's different than being blindly optimistic. It would be foolish to encourage a student knowing that he/she hasn't studied. It does no good to merely blow sunshine toward a student who hasn't adequately prepared or mislead a student without the basic skills needed for success on a particular assignment.

At some level, though, the greatest task of education is to get students to believe in themselves. As Marianne Williamson puts it in her book, A Return to Love,

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light , not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

It's easy to be mediocre. It's safe. You'll never fail if you never try anything beyond your suspected abilities. Who was John to baptize Christ? Who are we that God has a similar plan for us?

Marianne continues,

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

As educators, it is our greatest task to get our students to shine brilliantly. Our greatest task is to show students that God has a magnificent plan for them, one that probably stretches them beyond the limits of their own confidence.

Baptize me. Lead my people. Go and sin no more. Become a priest. Open a medical clinic for people in financial distress. Marry her. Be a wonderful father. Go back to Haiti. Pray.

Become the person I created you to be.

But, do not be afraid...for you are My beloved child, for whom I have a wonderful plan and with whom I am well pleased.