Easily Excitable

Ultimately, when done right, our job as teachers, specifically high school teachers, is a job of good-byes. 

We’ve been here before. We’ve got the tshirt. We’re used to this. 

Some groups, though, are a little harder to say good-bye to, though.

And this group of graduates?

They’re special to me on multiple fronts.

This is the last group that knew me solely as Ms. Meadows. 

I appreciate the effort they’ve given as they’ve tried to adjust to my married name. Many finally fell into the comfortable place of calling me Mrs. K. 

This was the first group I taught in 11th grade. 

Last year, the worst 9th grade ELA teacher ever also became the worst 11th grade ELA teacher. 

Thank the Lord for really smart, really funny, and really forgiving kids. 

This is the last freshman group I coached.

My foray into softball lasted about three years. 

And the worst 9th and 11th grade teacher was also, unsurprisingly, the worst coach of all time, too. 

But this group is special to me for another reason: 

But this is also the group that God planned I would have the year my sister died. 

In August, I was called out of sixth period, and my world seemed like it’d been knocked off its axis. 

I remember walking into my classroom that first morning back. 

I remember feeling shell-shocked, like the wind had been knocked out of me. 

And yet, I remember being amazed at the emotional intelligence of my ninth graders. 

Shocking, as this same group of kids would also fall apart in giggles at any given bodily noise. 

(Read: flatulence.)

And yet, they were calm and collected. They didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions. 

There was an odd level of kindness and, dare I say, gentleness that is not customary of 15 year olds. 

I was amazed. And I was grateful.

For a while in 2021, work was a highlight of my day. 

In some ways, the only place that I really felt like myself- the only place where things weren’t confusing- was in Room 2090. 

There were some days where it was the only place I would really belly-laugh, or feel comfortable. There was routine and normalcy. 

My coworkers and my kids were more helpful than they ever could have known.

Needless to say, class of 2025, you matter a whole lot to me. 

But, you young adults? this is where I leave you. 

I got no new tricks when it comes to sentence diagramming, and I wish you Godspeed on navigating the waters of career and higher education.

I do have a couple of tips, tricks, and advice for you, though. Maybe you’ll read this, maybe it won’t make it to you. 

And maybe you’ll ignore my advice as many of you were wont to do at 15.

That’s okay. Here goes nothing: 

Get excited about things: be enthusiastic. 

Excitement and enthusiasm are annoying. But, they are also contagious. 

Know what’s even more annoying than rampant enthusiasm? Rampant pessimism and complaining. 

If you are lucky enough for the sunshine to hit your face, lucky enough to be able to walk to the coffee pot, and lucky enough to have people who are glad you woke up? 

You are lucky enough. There is so much to be excited about in life. 

Focus on those things. 

You will yank others up with that enthusiasm, or you will yank them down with your complaints and pessimism. 

Appreciate and Learn from the perspective high school gives you. 

In high school, everything seems like a big deal. Then, you dress all fancy, walk across a stage, get a white piece of paper, and you realize that, really, beyond a Saturday night party, you won’t see a whole lot of these folks anymore. 

And all of a sudden, you either forget the things you worried about in high school OR you can laugh about them and realize they weren’t a big deal. 

I don’t really regret anything in high school for the most part: I was an idiot in every way possible. 

You know what does cause me a lot of shame, though? 

The way I used to treat my parents. 

I could have a horrible attitude toward them, and I didn’t show them any type of grace, empathy, or understanding. 

What I can deduce from that is this: 

What really matters at the end of the day is how we treat others. You will, as you get older, hopefully, be able to determine those moments when you’re being the worst for no reason. 

Key concept? 

Stop being the worst. Apologize. 

Move on. 

Find your people. 

After graduating, in the first year of college, I grew apart from some of my best friends. To be honest, I don’t think I handled that as well as I should have. 

That’s the weird thing about being a teenager: you have really big, adult feelings, but you have no idea how to handle those properly. 

And yet, now with the perspective adulthood’s given me, I appreciate what they meant to me for a big part of my life. 

My friend group I have now is a group of women who guide me and ground me. 

They have seen me through my darkest days, and we had some of our dumbest moments together. 

I praise God for them daily because these women are the ‘to the grave’ kind of friends. 

They’re rare, and they are so gracious with me. This is a ‘come as you are’ kind of friend circle, and I’m grateful for that.

As an English teacher, I can tell you that sometimes we just don’t have the words in our dictionary to properly describe the people we love most.

These women? They made me into who I am. 

There’s something to be said for, in part, raising and maturing each other. 

ESPECIALLY during the period of time where no one has a matured frontal lobe. 

Be dependable. 

Promises and commitments are so easy to break. And they can be so hard to keep. Strive to be a man/ woman of your word. 

We need dependable people in this world. 

I say this as someone who really struggles with this sometimes. 

It is easy to be dependable when you have nothing else going on, but the true determinant is what you do when EVERYTHING else is going on. 

When you feel led to do something, do it.

The very last time I saw my sister, I was walking out of my parents’ house with Trey. I was angry with her about something because, well, family can be a difficult thing sometimes.

We all know that. 

I walked out on the porch to leave, and as I did, something (Someone- y’all already know) told me, “Go back in there and say good-bye.”

I didn’t want to, but I did. 

Caroline was in the bathroom bathing Zayden, and she was kneeling on the floor. I hugged her bye, and I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. 

It was weird. I’d never done that before. 

But, that was the last time I saw my sister this side of heaven. 

When you have something pulling you, and you feel compelled in your heart to do it, do it. 

Even, and especially, if it seems like an odd thing to do. 

That might just be the Holy Spirit talking to you. 

Be outrageously generous with whatever you have to give. 

If all you have to give is grace, what a uniquely generous gift you have to share. We think of money as the end all, be all, but that’s not quite the truth. 

Because, in essence, following that belief means that, unless you have money, you can’t be generous. 

I disagree. 

Be generous with your time, with your gifts. 

Be generous with your words. 

With your forgiveness. 

With your attention. 

Be generous: be marked by a life where you are willing to sacrifice so that others can have enough and feel valued. 

Get a job where you have to work with grown adults. 

There are some things you can only learn around grown adults, such as…

I believe that there is something powerful in working with people who have chosen a given path as a career, rather than with a group of idiot college kids who are aware of what their job is and why they have it. 

I have worked in both of those jobs. 

I have enjoyed both of those jobs. 

But those jobs are very different experiences. 

Find absolute joy in creating things.

Creating before consuming seems like a weird concept in a TikTok world. 

But this is what I believe we as humans are called to do. 

Create more often than you consume. Or at least as much. Or, maybe, almost as much. 

I have found true joy in creating. That’s why I write. That’s why I garden. That’s why I cook. That’s why I love to paint and smoke briskets. 

We are made in the very Image of God, the ultimate Creator. I like to think that when we do this act, we connect with him in a whole different way. 

Create, build things, cultivate.

It is good for your soul. Creation is a holy act. 

Do. Not. Rush. 

You lose all power when you feel rushed. 

Anxiety is the enemy of negotiating. And you are always negotiating, make no mistake. 

You want to move higher up in life, but you get to determine what the ‘higher up’ path is. 

Morally? Financially? Vocationally? Relationally? 

There is no timeframe. But I do understand that pit-of-your-tomach, butterfly feeling of “What if I never….” or “I’m behind…”

When anxiety is driving, there is an imminent wreck. 

Trust me when I say that you will, later on, be glad that you trusted God and trusted the process. 

He’s really got a way with timing: it’s quite remarkable. 

In the moments and periods (I hate the word season) of waiting, He’s building something or tearing it down. 

Trust the reconstruction. 

If you’re willing to work hard and talk to people, you’ll never want for a job. 

If I had a dollar for every time my dad told me this, I probably wouldn’t have to work hard.

When we were young, one of my parents’ main aims was this: they didn’t want lazy kids. 

Now, I certainly had my moments when I was a teenager and when I was in college, but I’ve tried to live the majority of my life by this. 

I have never felt like there was anything I couldn’t attain because I knew I had work ethic to get me there, and I had confidence because of parents who pushed me to work. 

Do not ever underestimate the power of working with all you have, no matter what. 

And don’t ever let anyone make fun of you for it. There will come a day when it’s no longer a laughable matter. 

Grit over degrees.

The entire way I met you, student, was as a teacher. Whether I had you in my class or not, here was my goal: I needed to make sure you got from point A (day 1 of 9th grade) to point B: 

Walking across the stage you did this morning. 

But here is the thing: grit will make you more successful than any degree. 

You could have accolades out the wazoo, but if you have the internal fortitude of a marshmallow, life will eat you alive. 

Grit is this: can you keep going? 

Can life punch you in the face, and you still get up? Can you still dust yourself off after that and keep rolling, even if you have a few less teeth? 

School and jobs? You need degrees for that. 

But that is a small portion of life that, by design, is messy, unfair, dirty, tragic, and difficult.

The real measure of who you are as a person is whether you can hang on and hang in there, while keeping a pure heart and eyes that see the good and beauty in both life and your fellow man. 

That is what grit is. 

Sometimes the best thing for you is getting up and going. 

You taught me this your freshman year, back in 2021. 

I do believe in giving space to your grief: to grieving and acknowledging loss. 

We can’t overlook it. 

However, a key to life is moving on. Do not mistake this for forgetting your hurts. But wallowing in them and moving through life with a victim mentality is a hard way to live. 

The best thing that I personally could have done after taking that week off to grieve my sister was keep moving. I came back to my classroom, and I went back to coaching. 

There were people depending on me, and sometimes, that was what was key to survival. 

So, class of 2025?

Remember I love you, and I always will. 

Remember that I am proud of you. 

Remember to put the STUPID THESIS STATEMENT AT THE END OF THE INTRODUCTORY PARAGRAPH. 

And remember that my life is brighter because of your impact. 

Congratulations, kiddos.