The Good Girl

I wonder if God got a chuckle out of the fact that my married name is Mrs. Good. Ever since grade school, I feel like I’ve lived in this strange tension of secretly wanting to be rebellious and risqué and popular, but finding myself being “the good girl.” Now it’s just official.

Now that I work in a high school, I cannot escape seeing the same social cliques and high school politics that I experienced not too long ago. I see the girls who are a lot like I was: smart, opinionated, morally conservative, not really athletic, and not in a particular social group. I see the girls who I would have envied: petite, athletic, coy, wild, popular. I see the boys I would have liked: smart, funny, slightly rebellious and unpredictable, athletic, charming. I see the girls I would have been friends with, the classes I would have taken, the teachers I would have loved and hated, the couples and their drama that seemed oh so important in the high school world.

It’s interesting looking at high school from this new vantage point of teaching. I find that, on one hand, I realize how unimportant some of the things that I once cared so much about—finding a date to prom, getting an A+ in every class, being liked by the ‘right’ people, having a boyfriend—really were in the grand scheme of things. Why did I waste so much time worrying about that stuff?

But, other hand, there is a part of me that still experiences some of those same desires, manifested differently of course. There is still a part of me that longs for popularity and praise. Deep down, I really want my students to think I’m cool and love being in my classes. I want them to think I’m fun, and pretty, and smart. I want to be picked first for the metaphorical kickball team. But, I’m not willing to do those certain things—break the rules, have low standards, let students do whatever they want, talk about inappropriate things—that I know would make me more popular. I want to be a good teacher AND a popular teacher, but being good is usually not popular. Just like high school.

So, I live in this tension. And I wish there wasn’t tension, because it’s uncomfortable and it exposes my idols. (Mark Driscoll says that we’re all worshippers by nature, and the things that we worship are exposed by what we spend our time, energy, thoughts, and money on). Mine are maintaining my reputation and seeking the praise of people. If these weren’t idols in my life, I wouldn’t feel so devastated when students hate my classes or dislike me. I wouldn’t come home and cry after getting a critical email from a parent. I wouldn’t obsess about that one negative comment and forget all the positive ones.

As I’m confronted with these idols over and over and over again, I’m realizing that God cares much more about my sanctification than my comfort. God is showing me that when I draw attention to myself and seek to bolster my reputation and receive praise, I am distracting people from the One who truly merits it. My life needs to point to Christ, not to the mirror. Only then am I free to love my students selflessly. Only when I’m pointing them to Christ am I being a teacher with eternal significance; and that is the good reputation I should seek.