IF YOU KNOW ME AT ALL, you know that I have always had high expectations for myself. No matter what I do, or what small successes I seem to experience, I always push myself to excel not just to meet the standard, but to surpass it. I think it may have something to do with a quote that my former high school band teacher once said that stuck with me: "If you feel like you gave it 100% today, you better give it 110% tomorrow." I never forgot those words. Ultimately, it seems that I have let those words run my life in a way.
So when I stepped into my role as an ASL teacher, I wasn’t just aiming to do well; I wanted to be exceptional in all areas of the job. Why try at something if you're not good at it, right? But from day one, I felt crushing pressure of unforgiving weight atop my shoulders --- the weight of someone else’s legacy.
The teacher before me was well-loved, respected, and deeply connected to her students. Her influence was everywhere—in the way students talked about class, in how my coworkers constantly mentioned her (in response to things I did of course), and in the expectations I felt I had to meet. Instead of feeling like I had stepped into my own classroom, I felt like I was living in someone else’s shadow. And with that shadow came a voice in my head whispering, "You’ll never be as good. You don’t belong here."
Now, at first, I tried to ignore those feelings of self-doubt, telling myself that every new teacher goes through an adjustment period. But as the weeks went on, the self-doubt only grew louder. Every time a student mentioned how things used to be done, I questioned whether I was measuring up. Every lesson I planned felt like a test I was destined to fail. Instead of feeling like the teacher, I felt like an impostor—someone merely filling a role they weren’t truly qualified for.
That’s when I realized I wasn’t just struggling with the challenges of being a first-year teacher—I was battling imposter syndrome.
It wasn’t until a mentor spoke truth into my life that I began to recognize what was really happening. They reminded me that the Enemy is an expert at planting seeds of doubt and insecurity. Satan knows exactly how to attack—whispering lies that make us question our calling, our abilities, and our worth.
You’re not good enough.
You’ll never live up to their expectations.
You don’t belong here.
These thoughts weren’t just my own insecurities; they were weapons the Enemy was using to keep me from stepping fully into the role God had placed before me. John 10:10 says, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” Satan fully intended to steal my confidence, kill my joy, and destroy my sense of purpose. But the truth is, God does not call us without equipping us. He placed me in this position for a reason—not to be a copy of the teacher before me, but to bring what He has uniquely gifted me to offer on my own.
So, then, what was the turning point in my season of doubt?Well, for weeks (possibly even months), I wrestled with these lies, trying to remind myself of God’s truth, but the doubt still lingered, festered and infected every part of me. I kept wondering if I was making any difference at all. Then, one day, a student looked at me with a smile, and said something that changed everything.
"Thank you for always being an amazing teacher." π
At the time, I gave this student a simple smile and nod as she headed on her way to the next class. But over time, as I sat alone in my cozy office chair, I pondered on those words, letting them thoroughly sink in. This job placement wasn’t about living up to someone else’s legacy—this was about the students in front of me, right here, right now. In that moment, God reminded me that He wasn’t asking me to be the former teacher. He was asking me to be faithful with the passion and heart He had given me.
That student’s words, in a literal sense, were a wake-up call. My self-doubt had been so loud that I hadn’t stopped to see the ways God was already using me. I wasn’t failing. I wasn’t an imposter. I was right where I was supposed to be, according to His purpose.
Now, does this mean I’m completely free from guilt and self-doubt? That I never have moments where I question my worth as a teacher? Of course not.
Going into this career, I knew there would be challenges—roadblocks that felt impossible to overcome. Whether it was the regret of snapping at a student on a tough day or the internal struggle of navigating my role as a hearing ASL teacher in the Deaf community, the doubts still creep in from time to time. But now, I recognize them for what they are—lies meant to hold me back.The difference is that I no longer let those lies take root. Instead, I hold onto the truth: God placed me here for a reason. I may not be perfect, but I am called. And if I can make all the difference in just a few students' lives (either by teaching them ASL or leading them closer to Christ), then that within itself... is enough.
We may not have all the answers, and the doubts will definitely still come and go, but know this—God’s plan is greater than our fears, and He isn’t finished with you yet. Till next time, I’ll keep doing my best to trust Him, one step at a time.
Warm Regards,
Josh
P.S. Do you have any other sage advice for a brand-new teacher? Asking for a friend...
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