Skip to main content

quantum mechanics

Since I am supposed to have a baby Thursday morning, Wednesday is my last day of work for about 8 weeks. I have been working really hard to get ready so that I don't have to "lesson plan" over my maternity leave. I got through the first 3-4 weeks with ease but hit a major bump with quantum mechanics. This isn't something most people get. I'm not even sure I really get it. A video or worksheets won't cut it. I wasted hours trying to figure out the best format for notes, practice, etc. Nothing seemed to make sense or like I could leave it with a sub. Electron configurations, the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle and orbital diagrams take lots of explanation and hand holding.
And then I remember something they told us way back in one of my education classes in college. I don't remember what class it was, or probably most of what I was taught. But I do remember the professor saying this: "80% or more of your students will learn the same amount with or without you." I don't remember if they were trying to take some of the pressure off of us babies or inspire us to seek out those 20% who need us.
But for right now it reminds me that most of them still probably won't get it even if I was there. That it doesn't matter. This has no little to no impact on their life. I can stop stressing.
It is not about me.
We do this as Christians. We think we have to ___________________________ to have significance, to "save" our friends, etc.
It isn't about us.
Sure God calls us to do His work, but we can not take any kind of credit for the results. We should still strive to do our best at work or be obediant. I think that is all God cares about. Not the end result. He is responsible for the full 100% of that.

Comments

Alyssa said…
Thanks for helping me put my teaching issues into perspective. I'm grateful that I'm not having to teach a sub to teach quantum mechanics. That blows my mind.

Popular posts from this blog

pace yourself

Tonight I went running with a friend ten years my junior. I asked her how far she was running and when she said only about 1.5 or 2 miles, I teased her that I could go at least twice that far. And to just let me know when she needed to stop. I have been running pretty regularly for the last few weeks. It isn’t long but keep increasing my time and distance. I’ve stopped getting blisters. I don’t suck wind after five minutes anymore and I was feeling pretty good about myself. Thinking I might even be able to out run this girl who was so much younger and obviously in more shape than me. As we started to jog I told her that I run pretty slow. Like my husband used to walk beside me while I ran, slow. And she slowed her gait a little bit for me but it was still faster than I usually go. I was a little embarrassed and was not going to ask her to slow down again. So I just ran at her pace. I stayed close. And was fading fast. A little over a mile in I was ready to quit. Again, pride, which isn...

pursue something else.

Americans like the idea of happy. of pursuing happiness. It is even one of our inalienable rights at least according to the Declaration of Independance. But I think maybe we should pursue something else. like love or joy or peace or contentment. and leave happy alone. Don't read me wrong. I am neither bitter nor cynical. Even my problems are good problems. I am positive. Half full. And most days I laugh a whole lot more than I cry. And simple things like a dance party in the living room, an hour alone in Barnes and Noble, the yellow pajama pants my son picked out for me for mother's day, potstickers, clean sheets, someone surprising me with coffee, jeans fresh from the dryer, a good song on the radio, or squeals of delight when I walk in the door all make my heart sing. They make me happy. For a minute. But when the squealing turns to screaming, my new pants are dirty, the sheets are in a jumble on the floor or the coffee runs out....where does that leave me? And happy isn'...

my first dance

My wedding day is a little bit of a blur. And it was a great day. But so many people and so much going on and so many moments that it is hard to remember them all clearly without the help of photographs. But I totally remember my first dance as a bride. And it wasn’t with my husband. Or even my father, or brother. I had quickly kicked off my heels and hid them underneath a table. Said my hellos and hugs and smiled until my face hurt. Someone ushered us through the buffet line and I piled my plate with hors d'oeuvres and headed to a table. But before I could pop a single shrimp in my mouth someone grabbed me firmly by the arm and pulled me onto the dance floor and into a jitterbug before I could protest. It was my husband’s granddaddy. A man I had only met about a few times and heard say about as many words. So I was a little surprised when he spun me around the dance floor. Eventually that night I danced with my husband. And my dad. And probably even my brother. But my fir...