Doing The Best We Can
I have no tolerance for flaky adults and students or those who can, but chose not to try. I have every bit of tolerance for people who are failing, but are doing the best that they can as they fall. I saw many examples of this over the last week. Here is my list of “people (animals) failing but doing the best that they can.”
1) A teacher I oversee in my department is working with a group I wouldn’t even introduce to the best teacher on the planet. This teacher is new to high school teaching and is not thriving, but surviving and I admire the heck out of him. He comes to every professional development he can and is constantly asking questions about what he can do to make his classroom better even though it hasn’t really gotten better. I observed his class for the first time Thursday and yes, it was crazy and chaotic, but he is doing the best that he can. He doesn’t verbalize any kind of teaching in front of these seniors. He writes their assignments on the board and points at it. This is because they are always screaming. That is not an exaggeration. This is because it’s the “normal” they’ve dysfunctionally created. This teacher keeps circulating and giving advice; trying to listen to students as they play on their phones, use the guitar HE brought in for one of them to write a song on, and puts their heads down to sleep. But you know what? At the end of class, a few kids cast their short scene assignment and read them in a small group. Granted those not participating in the reading were still loud and wild, but something was happening, because this teacher is doing the best that he can.
2) The cast of our fall play The Brothers Grimm Spectaculathon lost a cast member last night due to extreme vomiting ten minutes before the show started. They stuck together and took turns covering this girl’s multiple roles resulting in a series of weird pauses onstage as they falteringly covered her lines. This knocked them off their rhythm, as the show is a fast paced sketch-like comedy. They kept on and did the show with one woman down. And they did the best they could.
3) Uncle Rob (I call him husband) is doing the best that he can to play with and entertain his 12-year-old adolescent nephew. Nephews in 7th grade are a little tricky. I know because I taught 7th graders last year. A million things are up in the air for them (their social standing, their hormones, their changing relationship with play and toys – do they express wanting the dinosaur poster or not? Do they even really want it?) and this leaves them little time to be the enthusiastic kid they were 3 years ago…1 year ago…a few months ago. So Uncles aren’t sure what difference if any, their hosting weekend makes. But when they continue on through the expressionless responses and still provide two diner breakfasts, two nights of Malnati’s pizza, and two museums, they doing the best they can. And the dinosaur poster was asked for and purchased by the way.
4) The dad at the Shed Aquarium today is doing the best that he can to explain to his child why the male Beluga whale has no visible penis. He tells him it’s evolutionary and that the penis is inside the whale to make the whale more stream lined. The kid tilts his head and is still pretty set on the fact that only female beluga whales fill this tank. Now the kid wants ice cream. This dad sighs but he’s doing the best that he can.
5) Carrie (name changed) a junior at ChiArts is doing the best that she can despite her mother having a mental breakdown and refusing to care for her anymore, forcing her to live with a family friend. She is doing the best that she can with a learning disability and piles of junior year homework, silly musical theatre dances she doesn’t feel into learning, and a hungry stomach. I wish I could give her more than extra snacks and a quiet place next to my office to get out of her noisy morning advisory so she can catch up on work. This kid is doing the god damn best that she can and it still isn’t enough to feel any kind of success.
6) After my quick trip to the Shedd Aquarium today, I remembered how much I love dolphins. That’s not true, I remember all the time how much I love them. My 7th grade fascination with horses waxed, then waned, but NEVER has my love of dolphins slowed down. It’s only grown stronger. The Shedd has Pacific White Sided dolphins – little speedy torpedoes of the sea. The dolphin show is centered on conservation so it’s not super “showy” but the dolphins do perform a few tricks. At one point the host had to stop and say, “Well, looks like Freeda isn’t up for waving today, let’s watch Luna do a tail drop!” The trainers are at four places around the tank and I looked at the trainer whose charge was failing Freeda. She was still patting her and Freeda was not being shamed for not understanding her command. Finally she did do something … not super well. Freeda is doing the best that she can.
7) I’ll end with myself. One of my biggest fears about moving back to Chicago was the cloudy cold. Sunny cold is one thing – not ideal but decent – like brownies who let nuts in. But cloudy and cold is like no brownie at all. I’m doing the best that I can, not to complain. I made a pact with myself that there’s no use uttering “it’s cold!” and “it’s so cloudy” because it’s only reinforcing something I can’t change. I’ve chosen instead to say things like “Wow! The buildings covered in fog look neat!” and “A red tree!” when I see leaves changing, something I haven’t seen in five years…though even this carries a little heaviness because I remember from growing up here, that Chicago doesn’t have many maple trees and most of the trees go from green to brown. I guess I’m afraid to admit that I really hate going on 8 days in a row of heavy gray clouds – with only one day of sun forecast in the next 7. It makes me sad. I love the sun in California. I miss the energy I save by not having to energize myself out of the low place the clouds cause. I am afraid to feel the bummer that is Chicago cloudy cold for fear that I get too sad. So. I’m doing the best that I can. And for now, though I do love my new job with full sincerity, I’m sometimes failing to love Chicago. BUT I’m putting on a brave face which means a little bit of denial of my own missing of friends and sun in LA, and a little bit of fake joy when I try to appreciate the one tree on the block that’s red.
