Faith and Work :: Michelle's Story
- Michelle _
- Oct 23, 2009
- Series: Faith and Work
- Media Links
- Subscribe
I think I was born a perfectionist or, at least, I was raised to be one. Anyone who has a mom or dad that used toothbrushes to clean and has ever brought home an A- only to be told to try for an A or A+ next time, knows what I mean. Not that I had a horrible upbringing at all, just one that always encouraged me to be better, do more, and never settle.
Luckily for my sometimes messy husband, I am a reformed perfectionist in the area of cleaning and organizing. I’ve taught myself to manage those overwhelming impulses to clean and organize. I am happy to report that I have a much higher tolerance for messes than ever before.
Unfortunately, I am not a reformed perfectionist in all areas of my life, especially work. The same impulse that drives me to clean light switches with a toothbrush (have you ever noticed how dirty those things get!?), drives me to excel at work. I am an art and art history teacher; and I have high expectations for my students. I really do expect my students to learn how to draw or learn about Greek mythology, depending on the class.
Even more, I have high expectations for myself as a teacher. I believe a skilled teacher can teach in most circumstances. Makes sense, no?
And here in lies my dilemma: if students are not learning and excelling at the pace I expect, then I need to plan more, do more, be more. I end up making new assignments, new presentations, new lessons, new essay prompts, and so on. All in all, I end up being true to my perfectionist roots.
And when all my hard work does not produce the results I want – when students do not learn and my evaluating administrator does not notice – I question my profession. Maybe, I am not meant to be a teacher? I try too hard and achieve too little, because this job does not ‘fit’ me.
Or, perhaps, I have to confront an even harder reality. Something I would never say aloud and might drive me more than I would ever admit. I am not perfect and I have not found the perfect job.
Some girls grow up dreaming about their wedding. In high school, I decided that I wanted to travel, earn multiple degrees, live in a downtown area, and get married when I was thirty. That was my dream. And in this fantasy, I was driven, successful, and had a boss who loved me. In high school, I would have never seen any similarities between my dream and girls who dreamed about beach weddings where they looked like Malibu Barbie.
Now, I think I have a lot in common with those girls. We were both overly idealistic. Just like every beach wedding will have sand that gets stuck between your toes, every job has things that can irritate you to the point of giving up.
I think I’m slowly beginning to understand that this side of Heaven we are not perfect and situations are not ideal. One day I may even be a reformed-idealist: someone who does not exchange idealism for cynicism, but a person who knows when to leave well enough alone. (to post/read comments please visit our blog)