Not just one moment...

Defining moments are usually specific points in time. They are often easily identifiable by one momentous occasion. They stand out in our history, marked with irrefutable changes to our life's course. They forever alter who we are as humans.

And then there are the defining moments that come so frequently and subtly, that you do not recognize their change and power until much later. They are not necessarily pinpoint-able or identifiable at the time, but their effects run deep and leave a lasting imprint.

My time at Hymers College was one such build up of defining moments. I can honestly say that I would not be who I am or where I am today, if it were not for the powerful impact that hundreds of students had on me. I specifically want to mention my Men's Acappella group, as they touched my soul to it's core.

This group was such an assortment of personalities, abilities, and desires. I had very little idea of what I was getting myself into, until, well... until insanity ensued. Although getting twenty high school boys semi-voluntarily into one room together is a feat unto itself, keeping them duly occupied, engaged, and entertained is a completely different game. I found that out minute one of our first rehearsal.

To say that craziness happened in EVERY rehearsal would be an understatement. Truly.  But, through it all came something beautiful, something to be treasured, and something to be remembered for a lifetime. Over the course of three months, I watched as these boys began to trust me, each other, and the music. It wasn't until later, until my last couple days in England, that I began to see where we had come as a group. And sitting here now, almost a year later, I'm humbled and inspired by these boys.

Thanks in part to them, I learned how to care about and for my students. I learned how to have fun and yet be serious. I learned that breaking down in fits of laughter is OK and bribing them with donuts is totally acceptable when you need an extra rehearsal. I learned that sitting down with them while they jam at lunch break speaks more to them than just letting them be. That affirming them and believing in them go hand in hand with holding them to a high standard.  That spending an hour after school chatting about life impacts more than grading that assignment the day of. That words are powerful and transforming. That music can unite even the most different of people.

These patient, silly, brilliant, and diverse boys pushed the limits of my patience over those many weeks.  However, I would not trade one second of those 'difficult' times for all the victories that were had and the joy experienced by all.  There are countless memories I hold close to my heart.  One in particular happened while on tour.  This tour was a bit last minute and the boys were skeptical.  The day was filled with primary schools, a care home, and team bonding.  We had a full audience at the care home, and the eyes of the residents sparkled with delight as they watched and listened to the boys sing.  At the end, the boys were able to sit down and talk with the residents over a cup of tea.  I went to the side of the room at one point and looked around.  The tears quickly sprang to my eyes as I observed twenty teenage boys spread around the room in animated conversation with the residents.  They were able to connect over music, and bless each other in the process.  My heart swelled with thankfulness at the beauty and simplicity of people and music.  This was a defining moment for my boys, and a moment that still brings a smile to my face.

Saying goodbye to the boys...my boys, just about broke my heart. Partly because I adored them all and knew I would miss them. And partly because I cared about them and their lives, and now I was leaving. It is weird not knowing how your 'kids' end up. Do they do OK in life? Are they happy? Healthy? Did they go to university? Do they still sing? Some of my boys already are at university this year, and I pray for them often.

The last night I was in England I said countless goodbyes, many filled with weeping.  I literally thought my heart would completely disintegrate and one particular goodbye shattered a part of me. Moments before the last concert, one of my boys came to say goodbye. Shifting back and forth on his feet, this tall rugby player couldn't look me in the eye. When I asked him what was wrong, he started crying as he said: 'you are leaving and I don't want you to go. You've changed my life.' At that I just lost it for the hundredth time that day and joined him in tears. I managed to squeak out a 'thank you' and  'I'll miss you. You will do great things.'  In that moment though, I was thankful to this student for all the ways he had changed my life. This boy had been teachable, helpful, brave, and willing to risk. I had watched him grow over the time I'd been at Hymers in so many ways. I had learned much from him about teaching....he just didn't know. None of them knew. Maybe they never will. I'd tried to verbalized it, but who knows. All I can say is that my boys brought me so much joy, frustration, laughter, and good tears. I will always be grateful. These silly British boys will forever hold a special place in my heart.

It has been almost a year since I left England to return to the USA.  I remember the heartache upon leaving, almost as if it were yesterday. Not a day goes by that I don't think of my students and hope they are well. How I still long long to 'be sat there' doing music with them and laughing. And in all of this I am beyond grateful to the Lord for allowing so many wonderful students to help define my life in such a radical way.