Teaching

The work of the people

“Do you think I can still live here when I’m 30 or will the right-wing government have deported people like me?” a student asked me in history class last week.

A lot more anxious questions followed.
“What will I have to do to prove that I’m German enough?”
“Where should I go back to? I have no other home than this.”

“People like me.” – This means the majority of my students. Second or third generation migrants from forty different nations. Refugees from the horrors of the wars in Iraq, Afghanistan and Syria. People with stories of flight, persecution and the struggle to make a home elsewhere. Youngsters with questions of identity, origin and belonging. They have an immense treasure of cultures inside of them and have overcome so much to be here.

A debate flared up when the news broke last week of a secret meeting between right-wing extremists and conservative groups to plan the deportation of “people not integrated enough” in order to create a “pure Germany” (I put words into quotation marks because they often reflect Nazi rhetoric, which should’ve been banned from our vocabulary long ago).
This meeting is yet another peak of a long journey towards radicalization and nationalist ideals. It is one we’ve seen all around our European neighbors and other Western countries. It is a wake up call for all of us to realize that democracy is not set in stone and maybe more endangered than we’d imagined.

The fascist past screams so loudly in today’s news of secret meetings, populist politicians and openly extremist propaganda. The brown might have been painted over with blue, notions of “protection” and “conservatism”, but the message is still the same nationalist, fascist, homophobic, destructive poison.

Democracy means work of the people – and I am convinced more than ever that all of us need to do this work.

It could mean to march on the streets and demonstrate.
It could mean to show our faces and raise our voices.
It could mean to speak up when propaganda, fake news and half-truths spread in our conversations, news or online.
It could mean to realize that democracy should not be taken for granted and to educate others about democratic values.

As a teacher, I wonder what this would look like in my classrooms. What should we teach?

We need to talk about history and its terrible consequences
It might not be everyone’s favorite subject and for a long time, history has been taught as a mere collection of boring dates and facts. But when you zoom out and put events into perspective, you realize that the past has more impact on the present than you’d probably imagined.
We learn about the dark years of wars, and destructive concepts like racism, antisemitism and dictatorship.
We learn how the strife for national unity and belonging morphed into nationalism and exclusion.
We learn about the long struggle for diversity, freedom and human rights.
We learn about the accomplishments of peace, people’s power and modernity.

Learning about the past from multiple angles shows us how complex situations often were and still are, but also that life is never linear or without hope. And only when we make these connections, we can do better not to let history repeat itself.

We need to create space for emotions and the people behind them
The students in our classrooms are no automated robots but people with feelings. Growing up in a VUCA* world comes with a lot of emotional baggage and it is just all too natural that young people experience uncertainty, anxiety, helplessness and a lot of questions. Maybe even anger and frustration.

Before we talk about the big questions in life, we need to meet our students where they are.
This might mean to open up space for questions that won’t be answered immediately.
This might mean to allow room for raw emotions and tears.
This might mean to just sit with them in discomfort instead of stepping in right away.
This might mean to step away from the idea that teachers have to know and fix everything.

Students need a place where they can open up and process their unfinished thoughts and emotions. If they’re not allowed to think out loud or have to repress what they feel, it could cause great damage to their own sense of self as well as the people around them. Learning to recognize and deal with your own emotions is part of the journey to mature adulthood.
Our schools should become such places.

* VUCA is a term coined by economists to describe the state of our world. The abbreviation spells out into volative – uncertain – complex – ambiguous.

We need to practice and foster ambiguity tolerance
Merriam-Webster’s dictionary defines ambiguity as something “that can be understood in two or more possible ways”. In a world of heated debates and cancel culture, we have somehow forgotten to truly listen to each other and allow space for several statements to be true. We no longer differentiate between facts and opinions, algorithms have created echo chambers in which we only hear what aligns with our own worldview.

Instead of walking away when we hear dissenting opinions, we need to take steps towards each other, as uncomfortable and challenging that might be at times.
Instead of excluding everything that does not fit into our own picture, we might have to invite other voices to the table and let them tell their stories.
Teach how to check facts and classify different opinions.
Relearn patience to really listen to one another and ask questions before passing judgment.
Give ourselves time to think before blasting out half-cooked statements.
Invest in face-to-face conversations instead of energy draining battles online. Accept that there could be more than one answer and not consider this a threat. Seeing the whole spectrum of facts and opinions might open up a whole new perspective on the world and its beauty that is waiting for us to discover it – together.

Democracy calls us to do the work, everyone in their own homes, work places and public spheres. Shall we get started?

Teaching in Times of Corona

We live in weird times.

Two weeks ago, schools closed all around the country. Thousands of teachers and students had to re-organize their way of teaching and learning over night, parents had to become used to having their kids home all day and help them with school assignments while doing their own work as well. Following all the funny and more serious posts from parents and teachers online, I guess it’s been a challenging time for all of us.

When I was a student myself and my parents were missionaries in the Ugandan bush, we were homeschooled, so learning by myself was not completely new to me. But what would it look like applied to my own teaching? Here’s what I have learned from distance teaching so far.

Teaching is hard work. Teaching from a distance is exhausting.
On a normal school day, I teach two to four classes seeing about a hundred students. I prepare my material and hand it out to students. They work through it, ask questions, we discuss the results. Distance takes away the immediate student – teacher interaction, and this week I’ve learned again how important it actually is.

When learning a language, you need to practice it with someone and a teacher to give you feedback. When you learn about something in history, it’s about so much more than just facts. Issues are complex and only become alive and relevant for our world today in a discussion with the class.

Whenever a student has a question, I can quickly explain it to them verbally. During a study phase I can walk around and see where students are stuck or might have taken a wrong turn. Giving them direction can be solved with a couple of words.

‘Translating’ all of this into written form has kept me busy for the last two weeks. You have to prepare your lessons even more carefully, putting every explanation and task into such words that every student can follow them. Instead of quick questions in class I receive 50-100 emails or messages a day from students to clarify a task or asking for feedback on a completed exercise. Sending out standard answers won’t help their learning progress, but replying to each learner individually takes time.

I truly hope that the experience of homeschooling might change the perspective on teachers, who are often stereotyped as ‘lazy’ or ‘overpaid’ by the public (and some parents as well).

You need a routine and help others create one.
The first few days of this new situation felt a little bit like a holiday with no one waiting for me to show up at a specific time and place. You can suddenly have a lie in or watch Netflix all day – which is cool for a few days. But when it suddenly dawns on us that this is not a game and staying home is our new reality, living and working in it can become quite a challenge.

I try to stay outside the hole of purposelessness and dullness by keeping up a routine. I set my alarm clock and try to get up around the same time every day. I put on proper clothes and clean my apartment. I eat my meals at the table instead of on the couch. I schedule daily meetings with students and friends to have something to look forward to. Since I’m in quarantine, I can’t leave the house, but I try to exercise inside and take in fresh air on my balcony. I make time to read and relax. And yes, I Netflix (obviously).

In one of our calls, a student asked if we continued classes during Easter break. When I replied, “No because you deserve some holidays as well”, he desperately begged to keep going and admitted that he was quite overwhelmed and bored. Many teachers have drowned their students in piles of exercises and tasks without any structure or plan to proceed. While I’m a huge fan of responsibility and ownership, the ability to organize yourself doesn’t come naturally to everyone. For families and young people who struggle to make time for their tasks and motivate themselves to do something, teachers can help to set up a schedule that is challenging and not overpowering at the same time.

This is not a holiday, but this is also real life.
While I do think that keeping ourselves busy is a good strategy to fight boredom and panic in these uncertain times, we just also be realistic. There are tons of memes and videos out there from parents ranting about homeschooling and all the work teachers give their kids. Yes, for some students (and some parents) it might be a wake-up call that teaching and learning is actual work. Even though we don’t get to meet in a classroom, it doesn’t mean that we’re off for the next five weeks (or more) without any tasks or expectations. So don’t call it a holiday, take it seriously.

However, we as teachers have to consider the circumstances. We cannot expect a kid or teenager to concentrate for eight hours a day with younger siblings bouncing around or parents to explain complicated math problems. Our tasks have to modified for easy access and easy understanding. Or maybe abandoned all together. Families now have the chance to be together, enjoy each other’s company, learn things outside the classroom and curriculum. Why not spend some time cooking with a parent or experimenting with play dough or naming the plants in the garden? If we allow our students to breathe and their parents to be their teachers for once, we might support families and their learning experience even better.

(Re-)Discover yourself.
As much as I love a routine, it doesn’t have to look the same for everyone. A traditional school environment doesn’t allow for much individuality with specific classes and mostly one method of teaching and learning. This unusual situation might prove to be a blessing to those struggling to fit into the strict patterns of a school day.

Times like these challenge us to focus on ourselves a bit more and discover what we’re made of. When no schedule dictates what we have to do when, we might learn that we’re not as tough or organized as we’d hoped to be. However, we might also re-discover strengths that we’ve had all along and which can now be brought to fruition.

It helps to identify times throughout the day (or night) when you’re most productive: Are you an early riser? Do you work best during the night? Which setting helps you concentrate the best, which factors distract you the most? Get to know yourself and then work accordingly. If you work early in the morning, why not relax in the afternoon? If other people motivate you, why not connect with them virtually while you both do your respective work?

In order to maximize your results in the individual tasks, it helps to sort them into heavy and light work.

Collect all the tasks you have or want to do. Which of them need a lot of headspace, creativity and energy? Which ones have a deadline attached to them? Which of them do you dread the most? Label them as heavy work and do them in your most productive times.

Use your down time (less productive time) for less demanding and fun tasks, your light work.

In my case, I am a morning person and therefore get up early to do my heavy work: writing and creating things. My down times are often used for light work, such as responding to emails or research.

Teachers and parents can help students to find their best working times and settings, and then allow them space to work with that. At the of the day, you’ll look back on today’s accomplishments feeling productive and content.

Challenge yourself and challenge the system.
A normal school week has me so busy that I don’t have the time and energy to experiment a lot and sometimes I am not happy with how my lessons turn out. School resources, especially digital ones, are often limited and don’t allow for many new teaching or testing options. With so much time at home right now, I enjoy looking into new ways of lesson planning and communicating with students online. Putting together online quizzes, videos and whole lessons is a challenge, but also quite fun.

Observing the rapid change in the last few weeks has been quite interesting actually: Pedagogical researchers have demanded more individualized learning strategies and support for years, open-minded teachers have struggled with restricting rules and politics have held back support for too long. Issues like data security, money or lack of knowledge have always been recited as stumbling blocks to innovation and change – until a national crisis hits and people are forced to teach and learn differently. May this challenge encourage teachers to make use of what is already out there and may politicians and those who have something to say in the educational sector finally cash in on their promises and pave the way to true change and innovation.

Thank God for technology.
The most obvious challenges and changes happen in the digital realm. Every day, I log into a zoom meeting with a bunch of students. With a shared screen we talk through new content and old exercises. We play vocabulary and history quizzes on our phones and tablets. I put together tests which every student can access through our cloud classroom. All while lying in bed and sipping coffee.

With the absence of classrooms, suspended tests and loss of personal contact you have to become creative. Yes, using new technology can be exhausting and work intensive at first, it takes a while to figure out how it works. I’m grateful for my students’ feedback what worked and what didn’t.

But now we have the time to experiment and try new things which can be incredibly useful in our teaching (both in and outside the classroom). Why not click through the ebook versions of your normal school books and see what is already on offer there? Why not enrol in an online class for fun and see what is possible in digital teaching? Why not set up a cloud classroom and explore the possibilities to engage and connect with students in new ways? Why not reinvent the ways you teach and test?

If we spend some time challenging ourselves and our teaching styles now, we will hopefully be better prepared for the digital challenges in education in the future. And we might have some fun along the way, who knows.

Why social distancing is wrong (by definition).
Technology can solve a lot of problems, but there are a few things no screen or app can replace: The personal connection to another human being.

These days, politicians and media urge us to practice ‘social distancing’. While I understand the logic and reasoning behind it, I am also a word person and struggle with the word choice. ‘Social distancing’ implies that we stop communicating with each other and focus solely on ourselves. This would be catastrophic in times when so many of our students are stuck in struggling homes. Many of them share rooms with siblings and don’t have a lot of space to themselves. Some have no other form of distraction than their phone. Some of them struggle to connect with family members. Some of them face domestic violence.

If we teachers stop communicating with our students, they might lose a valuable contact to trust and talk to. We could be the key people to provide a routine, encouragement or simply an open ear. These strange weeks at home have made us more vulnerable, more hungry for human interaction and connection. They reveal what humanity is made of, the good and the bad. We need to be in touch with others – not physically, but with every opportunity we can find online. It will help us grow together, as teachers and students, as human beings.
This lockdown is a challenge for the entire society – doctors and politicians, nurses and farmers, workers, parents and their children, teachers. There will be hindrances and conflict along the way, but hopefully this will be an opportunity for all of us to explore and thrive. As individuals in our roles as students, parents and teachers, but also as a community helping and encouraging each other.

What have you learned from this experience so far – as a student, teacher or parent? I’d love to hear from you!

Why You Should Make Less Money [and Have More Life]

We have just started school last week and I am glad to be back in my routine, back with my students and colleagues. I teach a lot of the same classes with most of the same material in buildings I’m familiar with. There’s a schedule and a curriculum and all that. At the end of the month, there’ll be a pay check.
Same old, same old.

And yet, this year will be a little different.

This last year has really exhausted me. There was too much on the agenda, too many lessons, too much travel and projects on the side. Everything I wanted do for myself was pushed to the future and life seemed to be only about work.
I seemed to function during the week and try really hard to be alive on weekends and the breaks in between, which didn’t always go that well. I struggled with doubt and questions like, “What are you even doing here? Is this what life will always look like?”

Somewhere in between, a thought started to nag me.
What if you could change the way you work?
What if you could make more time for the things besides your tasks?

Maybe you feel caught up in the busyness of your life, trapped in people’s (or your own) expectations and long for space to breathe and create.
Maybe you question your work and doubt when and where life will actually happen. Maybe you want to change something and don’t know how.

Can anyone relate?

Rearrange your week
In order to make more time to create, you don’t necessarily have to quit your job and invest every minute in art or whatever you want to pursue. Sometimes it might just take another way to arrange your week.
In one episode of her podcast The Next Right Thing, Emily P. Freeman mentioned a technique I’ve tried out for a couple of months with some surprising results. Creative people who have so many different things on their plates can easily get overwhelmed. We have our jobs, our passions, our projects, our friends and family…and we never seem to have enough time to do it all. Our to-do lists are endless and leave us feeling unaccomplished and unfinished because we’ll never manage all of them in one day.

Emily suggests assigning each day a category of work, may it be chores at home or a passion project or meeting a friend. That way you don’t need to accomplish everything everyday and actually feel like you did something on that day. Whenever emails or requests come in, you can sort them into the day they belong to and don’t allow them to bother you today.
I have tried this method for a while now and it’s really helped me to calm my stress level. The different aspects of my life don’t overwhelm me as much and I have the impression that the actual days have become more productive and creative.

Live curiously
In her book Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert speaks about creative living – which, by the way, has nothing to do with being an artist, a writer, or a rockstar. We are meant to create, to make something of our lives and to discover hidden treasures in our souls. But far too often, we don’t do anything because we’re held back by fear.
Fear of not earning enough money,
of not being good enough,
of not being successful with what we create.
We deny ourselves the joy of creation and discovery because we give in to anxiety (which is often irrational). A sentence that really hit home for me was this:

Let your life be driven more strongly by curiosity than by fear.
Liz Gilbert

What would change in our lives if we listened to our curiosity some more? If we became more like children sometimes who simply follow their interests instead of necessities, their passions instead of their chores?

At the beginning of my journey I pushed these thoughts away as foolish desires and utopian fantasies: You can’t just change things, you just don’t do that.
I wrestled with my own fear and need for financial security and a stable routine:
What if I don’t make enough and will be lost in my week?
I listened to advice from friends and wise words from those who’ve done it before me:
You might like it and you could always come back.

And most of all, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling, “I don’t want to regret to not having done it.” What if I wake up with fifty and realize I have functioned all my life, but haven’t really lived?

You can’t create if you don’t try
The other day I shared my writing ideas with a friend and immediately added, “I’m not sure I should even write about it, maybe no one will read it. Who am I to think I could write something like that?” She listened and then said very firmly, “Why don’t you think you could? You’ve already proven that you can.”

For so many of us, the biggest hindrance towards change is self-doubt. We don’t believe that we have a right to do or say certain things, we hide behind other people who might be better (or pretend to be), we question our place to be here.

Well, it’s not about being always right or becoming famous with our words or deeds, it’s about showing up and giving it a try. It’s about listening to the passions and nudges deep inside of us, uncovering them and having the courage to share them with others. They will always speak to someone – even if it’s just our own timid souls. Or, as the brilliant Liz Gilbert puts it:

You will never be able to create anything interesting out of your life if you don’t believe that you’re entitled to at least try.
Liz Gilbert

So, this is me trying.
When the pay check comes in at the end of the month, there will be less money on it because I chose to work less hours. I have taken a step back from going to work in order to make time for being a work in progress: Listening, creating, wondering. I don’t know if it’ll work out, I don’t know if it’ll be successful – but at the end of the day, I want to be able to say I tried.

What are some areas or aspects of your life you’d like to have more time for?
How could you rearrange your week in order to make more time for the individual tasks?
What keeps you from believing you’re entitled to try?
What could be a first step towards trying and creating?

Writing for Five Minute Friday today. This goes way beyond the five minutes, but the prompt is START and it felt appropriate to share a writer’s progress.

Life Lessons

It’s been quiet around here. Maybe a bit too quiet.
I was shocked to see that I hadn’t written anything since May, but well…life happened. This school year, I took on an extra Erasmus+ project which allowed me to travel all across Europe and gave me access to historic sites, well-connected people and great learning experiences. On the other hand, it also kept me away from my life at home and time to practice my writing.

Last Friday was the last day of school and there are six weeks of no agenda and to-do-lists ahead of me.
I can’t believe how much I need this right now.

In the last lesson I asked my students what they have learned about the world, each other and themselves this year. So they wrote down facts and skills they have taken away from my class.

But what have I learned this year?

Never stop learning.
As a teacher, your job is mainly to rearrange complex facts into learning tasks and smaller steps. It is quite easy that you forget to be a learner yourself, to take time to really dig into a topic and experience that satisfaction when you comprehend something new. The project I was in taught me a lot about history and the value of modern democracy. It felt so good to be somewhere new and to discover things I hadn’t heard about before.

Self-care has to be a priority.
It was probably my busiest year yet because I had so many things going on on the side. On the calendar it looked like a few trips and appointments that would be manageable – being in the midst of them sometimes felt like hell. There were several days when I thought I couldn’t do it anymore. It’s been a few years since my beakdown and I never wanted to let it come that far again. Well, it was close. I need to take better care of my time and allow enough moments of rest in between.

People are life’s greatest adventure.
This year has been a lot about people. The material and schedules become less important as I grow aware of my students’ lives, personalities and challenges. In one class, students were really open and allowed me glimpses into their thoughts and emotions, which is an immeasurable gift I’ll treasure forever. I was lucky to travel a lot with the same group of students and got to know them beyond the school context. This has been enriching and life-giving.

This life is about you. So who do YOU want to be?
However, I can’t deny that people can be exhausting and draining your energy. You give so much and often receive so little in return. If your emotional tank is depleted it can become frustrating, and sometimes I found myself angry and disappointed by so little feedback or gratitude. I discovered how much I depend on people’s appreciation and recognition. Don’t we all want to be seen and feel like we matter? I began to compare myself to friends and colleagues who seemed to be so much better and so much more loved (which is a lie, but your mind can go crazy if you don’t monitor your emotions). I had to confront my own neediness and feelings of envy – and I’m glad to have some friends who called me out on it and reminded me of the really important things in life: it’s not about the others, this is about you. Who are you and what kind of person do you want to be?

Find your people and share yourself with them.
When things get tough and life tosses you around, surround yourself with people who remind you of truth in the midst of lies and light in the darkness. Be brave to share yourself with others, the good and especially the rough parts, and allow them to love you either way.

Make space at the table.
Even though it hurts when your work goes unnoticed, I don’t want it to stop me from being generous. Instead of letting bitterness settle in my heart, I want to look out for the beauty around me and speak it. I want to notice people’s service and applaud it. I want to pull others from the shadows into the light where everybody is welcome and everyone is seen.

There was one field on the evaluation form that allowed students to leave comments. Many left it blank, but a few wrote things that warmed my heart:
“You’re a great teacher.”
“Thank you for being so patient with us.”
“Thank you for all the opportunities you gave us this year.”
“I will miss you.”

Life is probably only as dark as the way you choose to look at it and people can surprise you if you allow them to. Here’s to a beauty-filled summer break ahead!

What have you learned this year? I would love to hear from you!

It’s been a while since I joined my friends at Five Minute Friday. Kate celebrates her five year anniversary of hosting this writing family this week – come and join the party!

Close your eyes…

… for a moment and let the week pass in your mind.
What were you working on?
What kept you the busiest?
Who have you met?
What have you talked about?

I was quite shocked a couple of months ago when a pedagogy professor told me that in their entire school career, students don’t spend more than twenty minutes talking to their teachers outside of class.
Conversations that don’t revolve around grades or the lessons are rare.

And yet they are so needed.

Every day, every week, we have full schedules that send us all around and keep us busy. At work, with our friends, at home, at church – we always have our role to play, our mask to put on.
We do so much, but when is there time to just be? When can we drop the masks and be ourselves?

As human beings, we are made for connnection, and yet we take so little time to create and cultivate it.
Those times when we are truly ourselves, when we tear down the walls that life and lies have built around our hearts.
Those talks that make us sigh and breathe deep because something inside us has just been released.
Those moments when we know that there is something bigger and higher that ties us all together inextricably.

In response, a colleague and I started to offer interviews for our students. A moment when we would meet – no longer teacher and students, just two people – to talk about life outside of school, future plans, netflix shows and hobbies. I was nervous at first because I didn’t know how students would respond to this new form of talking.

The fifteen minutes time slots we had allocated per interview were almost always exceeded. There was just too much to talk, think and laugh about. I was left wondering, smiling and immensely grateful for the glimpses I was allowed in someone else’s life and sweet moments of connection.

Create connection today.

Call a long lost friend.
Take a minute to ask more than the obligatory “How are you?”.
Smile at a stranger.
Be bold and take the first step in sharing something personal. What you’ll get in return will be worth it.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

Hidden in the Crowds

On Monday morning at 8 a.m., summer break was over. Six weeks of freedom and rest and quietness had come to an end.

What people outside the teaching profession don’t know: Going back to school after the big break is like turning a switch. Within one minute you go from silence to full-on noise, from solitude to crowded hallways, from rest to total chaos.

One hour in and you feel like the holidays are already light years away.

This week has been hard.
Sore feet, messed up brain, tired soul.
All I could feel, when I feel into bed at night, was exhausted.
That’s not all what I want to feel. This can’t be it.

When we are stressed, we often lose focus and overlook the really important things.

In the midst of our busyness, there are these little moments of joy.
In the hectic of our task-driven lives, there are these beautiful encounters of human connection.
In the sea of faces, there are these special people who stand out in the crowd and surprise you.
Beyond the endless to- do lists there’s the gift of Sabbath and the promise that we are not what we do.

This is it.
This is what I want to learn in this new crazy year ahead of me:
Watch out for the essentials.
Pay attention to what’s hidden in the crowds.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

This Is Not What My Life Was Supposed to Be Like (On Turning Thirty)

I turned thirty last week – a time to look back and reflect on the big things in life.

I distinctly remember the first day at university, when I walked around campus and saw students dipping their feet into the fountains at The Square. They sat together in little groups, laughed about something and obviously enjoyed their life. I was twenty-one and had just moved to the city to open yet another chapter in my life’s story.

And I remember imagining what the next few years would look like: I would complete my studies quickly and then move abroad for work. I would meet new people and we’d be the best of friends who make embarrassing and beautiful memories that would last forever. I would find a handsome guy and we’d get married until we started our own family around thirty. Together we would roam this planet, always in search of our next adventure. I would say later that my twenties were the best years of my life.

Fast forward a couple of years.

Even though I was never really sure if I wanted to be a teacher, I discovered that I enjoy teaching very much and I might stay a while. So I still live in Germany, have become a full-fledged teacher and just moved into my first ‘grown-up’ apartment. I own a dishwasher and seem to be really settled.
I have graduated from university with a lot of effort and good grades, but all of this had its price. After my finals I had a burnout because I hadn’t taken care of myself. In times when I needed them the most, I had to say goodbye to a few dear friends and learn that some relationships are not meant to last.
There have been countless weddings I have attended and many happy moments when I rejoiced with friends and their kids, but with the years I couldn’t help but wonder why I am still alone. Nor the fear of always being on my own.
I have walked through the valley with friends and had to let go of seemingly strong foundations. I wrestle with questions and doubts why and how I can live my faith in this complex world.

No, this is not what my life was supposed to be like.

As I take a walk down memory lane, different images flash before my inner eye.

The many packed bags and suitcases that carry us from one apartment to the next and accompany us from one continent to a completely different culture. A symbol for the tension of having no real home and longing for the world that’s lingering inside of me.

The five of us squeezed into too small cars or way too little motorbikes riding through the African jungle. Sleeping in tiny rooms and having improvised breakfasts on hotel beds. The many days and nights when we come together from all over, holding our bellies from laughing so hard and forgetting that we’re all adults by now. No matter how scattered we are: It’s always us five against the world.

The delayed flight to Johannesburg where my twenty-year old self lives away from my family for the first time. I am culturally challenged, but gain a better understanding of myself as a TCK and my role in this world.

Sweet memories of late nights with study friends watching movies, cycling around town and discovering what food can do for a person’s soul.

The tiny bundle of fluff who made me a godmother and grew into such a brave, funny, intelligent boy. I can hear his chuckling laugh long after I have to leave again.

All those weekends with my TCK family that leave all of us physically exhausted but emotionally filled to the brim. Because it’s exactly this: We have become family; people who share similar experiences and honest questions about home, identity and belonging.

The breathtaking beauty of canyons, oceans and landscapes in all the countries I was lucky enough to travel. I have swum in all the seven seas, overcame my fear of water to go diving and climbed mountains. I got to live with people from all across the world and discovered that they are the real adventure.

The first TCK conference I attended completely clueless only to be blessed by people who took me under their wings and taught me about the vastness and beauty of the TCK world. Together we have pulled off quite a few conferences and learned from experts all across Europe.

What started out as a temporary student job became an unexpected learning experience when I ended up organizing a congress for several thousand people and was surprised how much responsibility people trusted me with.

I have come to understand the necessity of saying No which enables me to say Yes to the right things and invest my time, thoughts and money into causes that really matter. I learn to treasure the beauty of admitting, “I don’t know.”

I have learned to take better care of myself and open my eyes for the many blessings already out there. God was and is bigger than my concepts, questions and doubts. When I pay attention to it, I am overwhelmed by mundane gifts and the faithfulness of old companions.

In times when saying goodbye to friendships and much-loved beliefs became really painful, I discovered writing as a helpful way to reflect and process. Many people blessed me with their encouragement and comments on-and offline, but I never imagined that my writing would end up in a book.

I sense for the first time what it means to settle down at one place for a while and create a home – a feeling unknown, yes even forbidden, for a TCK. I meet the right people at the right time who challenge me to take risks, to stay and rest, to give something of myself. I can talk to friends who feel the same and we wait in this uncertainty together.

Why do I write these things? I don’t want to brag about myself and everything I have achieved. No, these stories are a reminder for myself to not lament the things I don’t seem to have, but to celebrate that my life has turned out so different from what I imagined it to be all these years ago.

My life is full.
Full with tasks that challenge and inspire me.
Full with loving, creative and inspiring people who join me along the way and enrich my life with their presence, actions and words.

My life is deep.
In the midst of my hunger and desires I discover gratitude that brings a new depth to my life.

My life is rich.
Rich with experiences with and in this world.
Rich with memories of all the necessary steps that have brought me here.
Rich with dreams and excitement for what’s to come.

My life is a collection of puzzle pieces which challenge me at times, but make everything more colorful, meaningful, beautiful.

No, this is not what my life was supposed to be like.
But life is good.

A Summer with No Plans

One and a half weeks until summer break.
While I am really looking forward to six weeks of no schedules, no students and no early mornings, I must admit that I’m also scared.

I’m scared that my to-do list is too full.
I’m worried that I can’t get it all done and will let people down.
I’m afraid that the six weeks will fly by and I’ll have wasted my time with nonsense.
I need rest so desperately, and yet I somehow don’t know how.

As I sit down and pour my heart out to you, you take me back to a familiar story.
A tale of two sisters who have a house full of guests and a long list of chores.
While one of them hustles and stresses and runs around, the other one just sits down and listens.

I identify with the hustler and sympathize with the listener, when I hear your voice ringing in my ear and heart:

Don’t do. Just be.

The truth is so simple.
But sometimes the simple things are the hardest to practice.
I will give it a try this summer.
Thank you.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

Is This My Life?

Get up.
Go to work. Teach class after class. Talk to students. Discuss with colleagues.
Go home. Quickly eat something. Grade papers or prepare for the next classes.
Look at all the emails and feel slightly under pressure: When should I do all that?
Fall into bed exhausted.

That’s what my life was like in the last few weeks.
Busy, exhausting, draining.
There’s a routine and I have no choice but to run with it.
So I functioned, but I haven’t really lived.

No matter how long we’ve been on this faith journey, it’s very easy to fall into a routine. Pray.
Go to church.
Say the right things at the right time.
Stay away from all the wrong things and people.
Keep up the facade of the perfect little Christian.
We look good, we function, but we aren’t actually thriving.

I have come to give them life. Life in abundance.

That’s what I cling to in weeks of stress and exhaustion and dullness.
Yes, our lives should have some sort of security and regularity, but it should never pen us in.
There has to be a place where we can be ourselves.
There always has to be space for spontaneity and an element of surprise.
There should always be time to dream.
There should always be time to do nothing at all and rest for a while.
There must always be time to live, live to the fullest.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.

Everyday Killers

This space has been empty a few Fridays in a row. I opened Kate’s page early on Friday mornings to check what the prompt was as I usually do. Then I would mull over a few thoughts and start typing.

Not in the last few weeks.

I was just blank. Even after a few hours of thinking and pondering, nothing would come to mind. Nothing. I felt like I had nothing to say. So I left this space blank. Week after week passed, Friday after Friday I grew more frustrated and angrier at myself.
Has inspiration deserted me?
Where has all my creativity wandered off to?

If I compare my soul to a garden, there are different kinds of flowers and plants. Together they make a beautiful diverse image of creation, but each of them needs different care and nurturing.

Inspiration is a very delicate plant in this soul garden. It is planted deep inside everyone of us, but it will only grow depending how we take care of it. It’s so easy for inspiration to be suffocated with the thistles of busyness – a dangerous plant that grows like crazy if we don’t pay attention. It will drain the soil and leave us empty inside. I have been so busy lately with finishing off the school year while launching a book that I was too busy to pay much attention. Busyness had tied me up and I never really had time to stop and rest.

It can be hard to find inspiration in the midst of busyness. That’s why it is imperative to train our eyes to look for it, no matter how many thistles grow in our garden.
I have lost the focus on beauty in the mundane a bit in the last few weeks.
And slowly by slowly, sentiments like frustration and anger have settled in my heart. I snapped at students, I got frustrated with colleagues, I didn’t see the good in others anymore. The bright and colorful garden had turned grey for me because I looked at it through the wrong filter.
Beauty is already here, right here and now. And I need it more than I can imagine.
Only when I am able to admire the wonders around me, only when I allow God to speak to me, I am able to draw from that inspiration deep inside of me and truly create.

While I work in the garden I often get distracted by that voice inside of me.
You’re not good enough.
No one is going to read your words anyway.
Your work has to be perfect.
Far too often I give in to that voice. It’s like someone is slamming on my inner breaks and my hands are tied, I just.can’t.write. Instead of tending to the musings of my soul and responding to the inspiration inside of me, I worry about formats and what others will say about it. I fall for false expectations and am left empty in the end.

Can anyone relate?
What can you find in the garden of your soul?

With summer approaching I want to take better care of my garden and all the different plants in it.
I want to be intentional about resting more.
I want to listen more before I do.
I want to look out for beauty all around me.
I want to protect my inspiration from lies and distractions.
I want to create again.

Writing for Five Minute Friday today.