I’d had to go to the bathroom for about an hour. It was my longest class of my longest day of the first week at a new school. There were only eight of us in there, and we were mostly strangers to each other.
But suddenly none of that mattered. We all became so zoned in on the professor that the room went totally silent. Nobody moved, we barely breathed, and I wasn’t worried about the bathroom any more. He had gotten quieter than he had been the entire class.
“Teaching is a moral imperative,” the teacher was saying. “It’s about giving people something, whether they want it or not.” (“Whether they know they need it or not. Like grace,” I added in my head.) He went on to explain that even though he tends to be a glass-half-empty kind of introvert, even he feels an urgent need inside him, pushing him to give to people through his teaching. Teaching is like giving life.
More than ever, I was extremely inspired to do the same – to be that kind of teacher for others. Our attentions were all riveted on him. I almost cried. The music education lady beside me DID cry. The class was over almost immediately afterwards. We all quietly and reluctantly stood and left, floating out of the room in a daze. “God is good!” another lady unashamedly stated in the hall as we walked away.
I don’t know how the teacher did what he did in the last few minutes of that class. But I intend to find out.
Teachers, never give up. Spiritual experiences can happen in classrooms, too.