CRAP, IDIOT.

(I wrote this a few months back and just re-discovered it! Happy reading!)

I’m in the minority. I’m not retired. I can’t play the guitar. I haven’t been doing this for 40 odd years.

I’m a scripture teacher. That’s right.

It’s in the Australian legislation that all primary schools must provide at least half an hour of religious education per week (yes!). For the kids, in year 6, who opt to do Anglican scripture, at this particular school – I’m all they have.

There are 31 of them. 1 of me. Most of them are taller then me. I cringe every time they say “Miss. Dawborn”. We have one rule: respect. They’re not really into that most of the time.

I’ve tried a lot of things. Being silent, raising my hand, raising my voice, writing down their names on the board (shock. horror) – bringing in costumes and acting out plays, group work, games. The lot.

For those of you who know me, you’ll know full well my appearance is hardly threatening. I appear younger, and more vulnerable – then most of them.

I overheard a girl from the next block over ask somebody after class last week, ‘is yours the really noisy class?’ . My class is ‘that class’.

I struggle.

It was the first week back of the term. I was determined for a fresh start. I would have a chat to them, be stern and consistent, lay down the law - we would be on the same page – only up from here.

It was great! Until, “I’m not taking any crap for you guys this term”. Cue the classroom wide gasp.

Kids - ‘That’s a swear word!’

Me – ‘No, it’s not, I don’t swear’

Kids – ‘So we can say crap?’

Me – ‘No… I….’

Kids – ‘CRAAAAAAPPP’ x 50, 000 times for the rest of the lesson.

Big Mistake. On the drive home I couldn’t help but play the situation over and over again in my mind. Why wasn’t I thinking? How could I have let this happen? How should I have responded? I was playing out the home situations in my mind.

‘My scripture teacher said we could say crap!’ Awesome.

And if that was all it was, maybe it would be recoverable, forgivable. But no, we were talking about the Israelites this lesson as well. The same silly Israelites which disobeyed God again and again, they were rescued – they disobeyed, they were rescued – they disobeyed. What idiots! Or so I though, and so I said. Alas, another gasp.

One kid raises her hand, ‘this is a school you know’.

I can’t say ‘idiot’? Idiot is bad?

I’m a scripture teacher! I’m ruining everything. Here I am, the embodiment of morals and values and good behavior, the ambassador of Jesus Christ, and apparently, I’m a potty mouth.

It’s a tough gig for me. I’m learning. I’m new. I’m struggling.

But you know what I’m realizing? That’s okay. I have 31 kids in my care, for half an hour per week. I am not only allowed but am obliged to tell them about Jesus, to read to them from the Bible – to convey my passion and purpose in life! In many countries this is illegal, not compulsory.

This may be the only chance these little ones get to hear the Gospel. And they are in my care. Sometimes my crappy care – with the idiot teacher that I am, by my care. And God, creator of the entire universe, chooses to use the imperfect me? Wow. What a privilege.

Prayers, please pray for me and my class. Teachers, any suggestions? Scripture Teachers, thank you for faithfully volunteering your time to bring the Truth to the next generation, week after week, year and year.

Amen!