zac brown band

Do you ever become frustrated with yourself because you feel like an idiot? Okay, maybe it’s just me.

But seriously, since this whole teaching thing began, I’ve found myself overly emotional and feeling silly on more occasions than I would like to admit. Let’s take the song “Highway 20 Ride” by Zac Brown Band. Not something that should upset me. But for whatever reason, his voice and the violin and the sweetness of that song have caused me to openly weep twice. Last night at the rodeo I had visible tears rolling down my face and mascara who knows where. And once last summer, with good friend Lunden McGill, with whom I try extra hard not to seem like an idiot, I was sobbing listening to that song on the way to the lake. Sure, it was the end of the school year at that time, and I was exhausted. But both times I’ve been so mad at myself, felt so foolish, for crying over a song that has little to actually do with me. But then I’ve stopped myself – if I pray for a heart like God’s, if I pray for eyes to see and ears to hear and my heart to not be hardened to the world, well… then maybe it’s okay to occasionally become a bit of a puddle, to be moved by music, to hurt for my kiddos.

The song doesn’t remind me much of my student’s dad last year, but more so, myself and him. Loving him so much and not knowing how to fix things, how to heal him, how to make it better. When Zac Brown belts out “and I slowly died inside” that was me last year on a nearly daily basis, in small or major ways.

His life at home was a complete mess, more than I can fathom, and therefore his half day at school with me was also a mess. He was suspended a time or two for extremely violent behavior – at age 3. I held him in my arms on somedays when he cried, or chased him on other days when he was angry and just needed to bolt. I held down his hands while he tried to stab other children with pencils, or slap them in the face, and I cleaned up his intentional bathroom accidents on more than 25 schooldays.
Looking back on last year, especially the spring, I’m surprised how little I broke down. There were days, sure, that I sobbed on the way home from work. There were a few times that I really felt I truly just could not do this anymore. And I think it was love and faith and hope that brought me through. I prayed for help or wisdom or anything on a daily basis. Somehow, I was able to block out the things I was not able to change – like his home life - and just continue to show up to love that sweet child, among 17 other toddlers, for four hours each day.

Because I felt so clearly drawn to join TFA, knew I had to trust all that had happened after that decision. So, as much as I wanted to leave last year, much as I argued this student wasn’t ready to be in school and it wasn’t fair to other students, I knew we were both there for a reason. I would not, by any means, call teaching him the pleasure of my life. I'm thankful for the experience and the chance to finish the school year with my student, but pleasure of my life? No. However, the last verse, it does make sense. And it is true in many ways.

The stress, the exhaustion,the weight that child had to carry, and therefore that I helped him carry, combined with the talent of the band and the violinist and…well… I cry. The three or four times I’ve heard this, with music blaring and usually the windows down, I’ve let myself really listen to the words and find myself tearing up. And though I feel foolish at the time, I think it’s good my heart hasn’t turned to rock. And I know that this child, with which I spent so many hours over a 200+ school day, will bring a smile to my face any time he crosses my mind…even if it’s not on a Highway 20 ride.
Thanks for reading!

I ride east every other Friday
but if I had it my way
A day would not be wasted on this drive
And I want so bad to hold you
Son there's things I haven't told you
Your mom and me couldn't get along
So I'll driveAnd I'll think about my life
And wonder why, that I'll slowly die inside
Every time I turn that truck around,
right at the Georgia line
and I count the days and the miles back home to you
on that Highway 20 ride

A day might come you'll realize that if you see through my eyes
There was no other way to work it out
And a part of you might hate me
But son please don't mistake me for a man that didn't care at all
And I'll drive
And I'll think about my life
And wonder why, that I'll slowly die inside
Every time I turn that truck around, right at the Georgia line
and I count the days and the miles back home to you
on that Highway 20 ride
So when you drive
And the years go flying by
I hope you smile
If I ever cross your mind
It was a pleasure of my life
And I cherished every time
And my whole worldIt begins and ends with you
On that Highway 20 ride...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZMCkufE0X0