The Pursuit of Misery

In order for a TV show, movie, or book to be deemed great, there has to be character development. Without fascinating character development, the TV show "Lost" would not have captured people's attention like it did. Fans of the show were drawn to the evolution of the show's characters. Sure, there were the unprecedented special effects for a TV show, mystery and intrigue surrounding the island, and the storytelling that always seemed to conjure up more questions than answers. But at the heart of the show were the characters-Jack, Locke, Kate, Hurley, and everyone else. The reason "Lost" wound up with such an obsessive fan base was because its fans became attached to the characters, and they stayed attached to the characters because of the evolution of each one as the show progressed over the course of its six seasons.

Character development has been on my mind ever since I read Donald Miller's book, A Million Miles In a Thousand Years, at the end of last year. In the book, Miller chronicles his journey towards discovering what makes a story captivating. He sort of stumbles into exploring the elements of story when he's approached by two filmmakers who want to turn his first book, a memoir titled Blue Like Jazz, into a movie. Upon beginning work on the movie's story arc, he realizes that his actual life isn't nearly interesting enough to be made into a movie. Some editing was going to have to be done.

From that point on, the book is an incredible read about living your life in a way that, if there was an audience watching it as a movie, they would invest into the story being told and actually care about its outcome.

(I don't want to simply regurgitate Miller's book. My cliffs notes version wouldn't do it justice. If you're looking to read something that might change your life...other than this blog, of course...check out A Million Miles. I've read it twice, and I'll read it again.)

When watching a show like "Lost" or reading a book like A Million Miles, it becomes clear that character development doesn’t come easily. A character has to be faced with conflict, a struggle, something that is going to cause the character to do something. The same is true in real life. We grow the most when we’re forced to. Our own character development doesn’t just happen on its own. Sometimes what causes us to grow is beyond our control (a tragedy, sickness, etc), and other times it’s the choices we make that create an opportunity for us to be challenged.

As I wrote about in the first post on this blog, I made a conscious decision to usher change into my life when I accepted a teaching position with Omaha Public Schools. So far, it would be an understatement to say that the new job has been overwhelming. I’ve been working longer hours than ever before, dealing with issues I’ve never faced in the classroom, and struggling to maintain my sanity during recess-less afternoons (which is something I may have to write about in the future). But I’m not here to complain. After all, the job situation is something I brought upon myself. Instead, I’d like to relay what I’m being reminded of as I work through the challenges that have come along with the new job.

One morning last week, I woke up with thoughts racing through my head about everything I needed to accomplish at work that day. I had papers to grade, forms to fill out, parents to call, lesson plans to complete, and the list went on. With my mind already busy with work, I got ready for the day and began walking down the stairs of my apartment building on the way to my car. I opened the door to the outside and was unexpectedly hit with a moment of clarity. As I stepped outside, the thoughts that had been racing around my head quickly disappeared and were replaced with the phrase, “Keep your eyes on the big picture.” Depending on your beliefs, you may or may not agree with me, but it felt as if God was speaking directly to me. I’m not saying it was spoken with a loud, booming baritone of a voice. The words actually sounded like they were spoken by myself. But I sensed that God felt the need to draw my focus away from all of the details of the day, offer a chance to relax, and remind me of the end result.

If I allow myself to be consumed solely with teaching and everything I have to get done, I’ll be defeated by it all. The stress and the pressure will eventually be too much to handle, and I’ll wind up burned out and disappointed with the move to OPS.

As I turned my attention to the big picture, I began to realize that come May, I’m not going to remember all of the specific tasks that were consuming my first few weeks with OPS. Instead, I hope to see a distinct change in who I am. I hope to find I’m a more effective teacher. I hope to be able to say that I’m better off for having taken the job at Franklin. I hope to be able to say that I’m actually doing something about the poverty and suffering present in the city I call home.

Now, let’s pretend for a brief moment that my life was being made into a movie. One of the scenes that might not make the final cut, but would at least be on the blooper reel that runs during the credits, would be an incident that involved a girl from my first year of teaching and a pencil eraser. You see, she had stuck her pencil up her nose (for what reason, I'm not sure, but I have a guess), and the eraser from the end of her pencil had gotten lodged up her right nostril.

Once the girl realized what had happened, she ran up to my desk in a panic. Tears were beginning to form as she tried to explain to me what was wrong. As I did my best to repress my urge to laugh, I placed my hand on her shoulder and told her to relax.

My first attempt didn’t do much to calm her worries, so I again tried assuring her that it would all be okay and that she just needed to relax so we could try to figure out how to get the eraser out of her nose. With each passing second, the girl was becoming more and more panicked. As soon as I began my second attempt at assuring her everything would be okay, she sneezed and the eraser came flying out of her nose! Once she saw the eraser lying on the floor, she burst into laughter and so did I.

The moral of the story: Don’t panic when you (life) stick an eraser (chaos of a new job) up your nose. In the end, you (the developed character) will sneeze, laugh, and live to tell about it.