You are always where you are supposed to be.

Today, I decided to take on a substitute teaching gig at Brooke Point High School.  It was for a high school math class and although I didn’t think there would be a lesson plan, there was actually some work left behind for the students to work on! 1st and 2nd block had tests, and in the third block we just played ice breakers and then did some math-themed crossword puzzles.

My day had gone a lot less excited than planned, though.  In typical Justin fashion, I accidentally woke up late and ended up getting to the school a bit late also.  I had decided last night that I was going to create an activity for the students to do and could be donated to Sandy Hook Elementary School (I didn’t link to anything here because the only link I wanted was the school’s website and it was pretty tough to find. Please don’t glorify anyone but the unwilling victims in that tragedy.  Thank you.) in honor of the shooting that occurred exactly one week ago, but I didn’t bring any of the materials for the project.  Luckily everything went swimmingly though.

The fourth block of the day was a planning period.  Luckily I had brought my laptop and decided to reply to some old e-mails and network a little bit while I was waiting for the end of the day to come.  As I sit in the classroom in silence, a student enters.

The student and I end up talking for about 40 minutes and it was one of the more interesting, moving conversations I’ve ever had with a high-school student in my life.  We talked about almost everything under the sun – from my lack of ability to save money to her ability to always learn the value of a dollar. She shared a really moving quote with me, that she lives her life by, when it comes to thinking outside of the box – you don’t have to get crazy with it.

She said, “it’s like coming right up to the line, without actually crossing it.” That just means that you have to think of things in different ways in order to really be successful in life.  I asked her if she had another class that she was supposed to be in, and she said she should be in Biology – but that she had made a quick trip to see the nurse and got distracted on her way back.  She and the teacher I was subbing for had made it a habit to chat during this planning period on a daily basis.

She told me about how her class was playing four corners, and she wasn’t really interested in it.  She showed me the Christmas cards that she had been meaning to work on the entire day but just kept procrastinating.  She told me about how excited she was that today was the last day of school until Jan. 2, and about some of the eccentric qualities of her older sister.

We continued talking for more than thirty minutes before she informs me that all of the students from the first block had affectionally came up with a nickname for me – muscle head. Looks like my diet of the past month has been working??

And then she asked the question.  “Do you mind if I ask why you’re in a wheelchair??”

Of course I don’t mind. I tell her the story, along with the fact that I always admire people who have disabilities for their strength. ESPECIALLY if it is a disability that they acquired at any point where they have recollection of the incident that caused it. This is because I think the trauma and journey that you experience through an injury like that (and especially in rehabilitating from it) is a tough one, in any situation but “luckily” I don’t remember mine at all.

And then I ask her the same question.  This student was in a wheelchair also.

She was a quadriplegic, and she goes on to tell me the horrific story of the car accident on the way to church on a Sunday, three years ago, May 3 2009, that caused her injury.  She tells me about her broken neck, the blurry dizziness that she felt after the accident, the two men that helped her from the wreckage before emergency personnel arrived, the pain of passing out because she couldn’t breathe, the months in the hospital, her siblings and relatives that were also injured or otherwise in the crash, and does so the entire time with optimism in her voice.  I am so impressed.  I had just told her about my respect for people like her…

It took a forty minute conversation with this student for her to even mention the fact that I had a disability.  I’m sure she had thought about it all day, we had seen each other but hadn’t spoken earlier in the morning.  But in light of recent events, it was so refreshing to encounter someone who didn’t define me by my disability.  Moreso, I didn’t even have to put any effort into making sure that they didn’t write me off or judge me.  To talk to someone who didn’t assume something that I was, only based on something that I couldn’t control.  I don’t hate much but I hate it when people judge me by my disability – I didn’t decide it, but God did.  And I’m not questioning his decision.  I know that he wouldn’t bless me with this disability if there wasn’t a plan for it.  It was beyond refreshing to meet someone who understands this.  And to think that this would come on this random day in the form of a 16-year-old high school student, my mind was blown.

The reason I decided to write this blog is because this student was an incarnation of so much that I’ve not only battled my whole life but of something that’s been especially relevant in the past month or so with everything that’s been going on.  Her optimism, spirit, and willingness to talk about those events, only three years after her accident, was extremely moving to me.  I couldn’t believe it, and it really did make my day.  Of course, once we were all done and it was almost the end of the day, I gave her not only an Actively Caring for People wristband, but my business card too.  She had told me about how she completed an essay for an English class about the accident and her injury.  She was bummed that she couldn’t find it anymore, but told me about how she had tried recently. I asked her to e-mail me the story if she ever found it so that I could enjoy it.

I almost didn’t sign up for a substitute teaching job today.  I almost woke up too late to even make it on time.  I’m so grateful that I came.  I’ve realized that you are always where you are supposed to be.