I’m not the best athlete in the world. I’m not the greatest singer or the most amazing artist. I’m not a well-renowned historian, nor have I written the next great American novel. I have not discovered the cure for cancer and I probably won’t ever dance with the Moscow Ballet.
But love what I do.
I’m good at it.
I love how it makes me feel when I work hard, accomplish my goals, and master my craft.
I may never be famous for it, but I have to do it. It’s part of me.
And that part of me must be shared.
I teach because I can’t do anything else.
I can’t do anything else. Nothing else fuels the passion in me for the craft that I love– nothing fuels it like sharing it.
And so I teach.
I don’t do it for the money or the time off, or the late nights spent working on lessons or creating new ways to help you learn.
I do it because maybe, just maybe, you’ll find that what I love, you love, too.
I teach because I want you to love.
I teach for the moments when your eyes light up because a fire has been sparked within you. It’s the same fire that burns in me.
I teach for the smiles, the laughter, the joy– my reactions to your learning, shared with you at your own accomplishments.
I teach because my heart aches for you to engage– for you to develop a sense of self through the discovery of doing what God created you to do.
I teach because it’s fun.
I teach despite the naysayers– those who give voice to the idea that teaching, in any capacity, is easy.
I teach despite the laws, regulations, and codes that tie my hands, rendering me to often feel ineffective.
I teach despite the long days, constant training, and never-ending paperwork.
I teach because I love.
I love my craft; my area of expertise. But more than that, I love you.
I love it when you are a blank page, ready to be inscribed with the knowledge you will need to conquer the world.
I love it when you are a closed book–difficult and moody– you challenge me, and I never back down from a challenge.
I love it when you respond to what I’m teaching– when I see you growing and changing before my eyes.
I love it most of all when you realize that I do what I do because I love you.
I want you to grow.
I want you to find what it is you are passionate about.
I want you to work harder, be better, achieve more, and do things– things I’ll never do.
I want you to be better than I could ever be.
I teach because what I love requires that to be brilliant at it, I love those who want to learn.
And so I push myself. I push myself to be better and faster and stronger and smarter– for you.
I push myself to do more and be more and achieve more so that you will be greater.
I continue to learn and develop new techniques and master my craft for the sole purpose of sharing it with you.
But I remind myself that you are not me.
You might not love what I love. You might not respond to me the way I hope.
You might not understand that when I look at you, I see a person perfectly created by a great and mighty God.
But I will continue to teach you, praying that this God-given passion that drives me gives me the opportunity to show you a glimpse of what I love, and if nothing else, let you know that you can be passionate about something–anything–too.
Above all, that’s what I want you to find–something you are passionate about.
So passionate that you must share it with someone else.
So I teach because, by the grace of God, I can.