take me out to the ball game

*this post is on this blog (rather than my vox account), because this one contains the truth*

I hate teaching. At least right now, in the midst of this crazed learning stage. It's horribly draining with little return. But it's a "noble" thing to do. I'm acting as Robin Hood, taking money from the taxpayers of Mississippi to give back to the students they've long since forgotten. While Robin Hood's journey seems like the chance of a lifetime, an opportunity be a "hero, one forgets just how hard it is to do what he does. Plan lessons, lots of lessons, hope they work, cringe if they don't, take criticism- everyday from people you may or may not like or trust, teach students who haven't learned the basics, teach material you may or may not be familiar with. You plan and you succeed. Then you plan and you fail. And that's everyday, all day. It never stops. ever. It's an endless cycle of lots of failure and only minor successes. And you're surrounded by people who want you to fail. People who aren't playing on your team. And that sucks. And each day gets longer. And each night much shorter. Teaching is a beat down. A freaking beat down. And I'm not sure I'll ever love it. My heart isn't here.

My heart is on the ball field, on the green grass of Swayze and of every other one of the millions of ball parks scattered across the country. I never wanted to teach. Ever. And now I am. For two years and two years alone. I want to help the athletes, like I've done for the last three years. I want to invest my life in the superstars and the walk-ons. I want to fix what's wrong with the NCAA. I want to turn it back into an organization that remembers who it serves: the student athlete and not corporate America. Forget fairness, forget the rules. These guys, like my students, need love. But my heart already knows how to love the athletes. And my heart longs to be back with the athletes- to hear their stories and their dreams, to watch them in the holy land of the home turf and the desert of the away stadiums. I want that. Not this. This is hard. Hard alone. Without a church. In a place that is more than familiar.

Be near, oh God, be near. Give me the strength to make it through the next two years. Guide my footsteps and my dreams. Guard my heart. Show me, Lord. Speak to me and let me hear You. Protect me. Hold my hand and never let go. I'm like a little child, Lord, afraid and lonely. Terrified of tomorrow, dreading my next day at work, yearning for 2011 rather than looking forward to August. Be near, oh God, be near.

moving onward

I'm moving on. to a different blog. on a different site. Life has taken a funny bounce (or rather, God had different plans), and instead of the Peace Corps, I'm now a participant of the Mississippi Teacher Corps, a 2 year program that places recent college graduates in critical needs school districts across Mississippi. I will be teaching some subject (still unknown) at Wingfield High School in Jackson, Mississippi and I couldn't be more excited. Throughout the next two years, I will be challenged in ways that only the Lord knows are possible. I will receive a Master's Degree from the University of Mississippi (my undergraduate alma matter!) in Curriculum and Instruction for free, thanks to the generous tax payers of Mississippi. Anyway, because of my involvement with MTC, I am switching blog sites. I'm now posting at Vox. Vox is fabulous; however, most of my entries are private, so in order to read them, you must join Vox (it's free) and ask to join my neighborhood and friend in order to read them. Here's the link to my blog- www.ashton145.vox.com

My God is good, yesterday, today, always.