This was the moment when I fully realized the gravity of my job. During my first year of teaching, fresh out of college, my ninth grade theology class affirmed this student's statement as they eagerly awaited an answer to a question of faith that had clearly been gnawing at them for some time. Though only a year ago, I've long since forgotten the question, as well as my answer. I haven't forgotten the thought that flashed through my mind, however: "Oh God, they're in trouble!"
I currently teach theology at Lowell Catholic High School as part of the Providence Alliance for Catholic Teachers (PACT), a program that, along with more than a dozen other partner organizations, seeks to reinvigorate Catholic education through the training of the next generation of lay teachers. My responsibilities at Lowell Catholic have included leading retreats, coaching JV softball, and schmoozing prospective students at open houses, but my major focus has been on educating students in the faith.
I could fill this reflection with the hilarious and the absurd; if you don't believe me, try teaching a class full of exchange students with varying English levels... the concept of class clown transcends language and culture. I could fill it with stories of adversity; I once taught Augustine's Confessions to a class of 17 year olds. I could also fill it with moments of grace; one student shared with me his desire to enter the priesthood, while another remarked that my class had inspired her to attend Mass again. Instead, I want to write about my imperfections and my God who finds ways to use me anyways.
Teaching is a lot harder than I had ever imagined. Between lesson planning (how do I explain the idea of divine revelation to someone raised in secular, communist China?), grading (how does one grade a reflection essay?), and discipline (want to swear in class? See me after school to craft a list of 75 alternatives to the f-bomb*), there isn't a lot of time for me to really get to know the person behind each one of my 85 students. So I keep my classroom door open after school.
I don't know what keeps them coming in, whether it's the inordinate desire to draw on a blank white board (I swear students and white boards are like dogs and hydrants) or the desire to just talk to someone, but I almost always have company at the end of the day.
I currently teach theology at Lowell Catholic High School as part of the Providence Alliance for Catholic Teachers (PACT), a program that, along with more than a dozen other partner organizations, seeks to reinvigorate Catholic education through the training of the next generation of lay teachers. My responsibilities at Lowell Catholic have included leading retreats, coaching JV softball, and schmoozing prospective students at open houses, but my major focus has been on educating students in the faith.
I could fill this reflection with the hilarious and the absurd; if you don't believe me, try teaching a class full of exchange students with varying English levels... the concept of class clown transcends language and culture. I could fill it with stories of adversity; I once taught Augustine's Confessions to a class of 17 year olds. I could also fill it with moments of grace; one student shared with me his desire to enter the priesthood, while another remarked that my class had inspired her to attend Mass again. Instead, I want to write about my imperfections and my God who finds ways to use me anyways.
Teaching is a lot harder than I had ever imagined. Between lesson planning (how do I explain the idea of divine revelation to someone raised in secular, communist China?), grading (how does one grade a reflection essay?), and discipline (want to swear in class? See me after school to craft a list of 75 alternatives to the f-bomb*), there isn't a lot of time for me to really get to know the person behind each one of my 85 students. So I keep my classroom door open after school.
I don't know what keeps them coming in, whether it's the inordinate desire to draw on a blank white board (I swear students and white boards are like dogs and hydrants) or the desire to just talk to someone, but I almost always have company at the end of the day.
To be honest, it's the best part of my job and the reason I love teaching. I've been able to build countless "enduring personal relationships" as the Xaverian Brothers like to say by simply keeping my door open. I'm not the smartest, coolest, funniest, or best teacher by any means, but I believe the key to my ministry lies in this open door.
During a service trip in college, I realized that I had a knack for connecting with youth. I became a teacher because I wanted to have a positive impact on the world, and I saw this gift as a logical starting point. My goal is to invite my students to seek out a relationship with Christ. Unfortunately, I often lose sight of this goal during class.
During a service trip in college, I realized that I had a knack for connecting with youth. I became a teacher because I wanted to have a positive impact on the world, and I saw this gift as a logical starting point. My goal is to invite my students to seek out a relationship with Christ. Unfortunately, I often lose sight of this goal during class.
There is simply too much material to cover, too many tests to give, and too many essays to grade. I see how so many teachers seem to fall into the trap of losing the forest for the trees. But this changes when someone wanders through my door after school. My focus shifts to the student. I've discussed the mundane, "think we'll get a snow day tomorrow!?!?", my passions, "c'mon you know Notre Dame stinks,"** and the truly profound, "I feel like I'm a good person, but I'm not religious and I'm scared about what comes after death."
If I'm good at anything, it's at making conversation. I'm good at building rapport and developing relationships. While my teaching has room for improvement and at some point I should probably get an advanced degree in theology, God has taken all of me, the good and the bad, and thrown me headfirst into His service. And He's made good use of me.
If I'm good at anything, it's at making conversation. I'm good at building rapport and developing relationships. While my teaching has room for improvement and at some point I should probably get an advanced degree in theology, God has taken all of me, the good and the bad, and thrown me headfirst into His service. And He's made good use of me.
While teaching Confessions during my first semester as an educator felt next to impossible, one student really dove into the material. Marathon "extra help" sessions ensued, in which we discussed religion, faith, philosophy, politics, and life in general. I rarely gave answers, instead challenging him with questions. Six months after that first conversation about this young man's fear of death, he emailed me to declare that he'd shed his agnosticism and begun attending Sunday Mass. I didn't convert him. I was simply open – to God's grace and to this young man's questions, his anxieties, and his hopes.
While my students know me as Mr. Whelan and think my job is to just teach them theology, they couldn't be more wrong. My job is to be open to my students, to their joys and sorrows, successes and failures, good days and bad. I can't save anyone and I can't give anyone faith. I can share knowledge with my students, but I can't force them to retain it. I can, however, imitate Christ, and in doing so, witness to Him – the greatest gift I can give to my students, and the world.
*My favorite is a toss-up between "flubber," "full litter box," and "flying squirrels."
**This young man is lucky Tommy Rees was quarterback that year...
Chris Whelan graduated from the University of Notre Dame in 2013 with a BA in Theology and a Minor in Business Economics. During his time at Notre Dame, Chris served as a mentor-in-faith for Notre Dame Vision, spent a summer in Buffalo, NY, working at the NativityMiguel Middle School, and was heavily involved in both the Center for Social Concerns and Campus Ministry. He currently resides in Lowell, MA, where he is earning an M.Ed. from Providence College through the Providence Alliance for Catholic Teachers (PACT) program by teaching theology at Lowell Catholic High School. Chris can be reached at cwhelan36@gmail.com.
While my students know me as Mr. Whelan and think my job is to just teach them theology, they couldn't be more wrong. My job is to be open to my students, to their joys and sorrows, successes and failures, good days and bad. I can't save anyone and I can't give anyone faith. I can share knowledge with my students, but I can't force them to retain it. I can, however, imitate Christ, and in doing so, witness to Him – the greatest gift I can give to my students, and the world.
*My favorite is a toss-up between "flubber," "full litter box," and "flying squirrels."
**This young man is lucky Tommy Rees was quarterback that year...
Chris Whelan graduated from the University of Notre Dame in 2013 with a BA in Theology and a Minor in Business Economics. During his time at Notre Dame, Chris served as a mentor-in-faith for Notre Dame Vision, spent a summer in Buffalo, NY, working at the NativityMiguel Middle School, and was heavily involved in both the Center for Social Concerns and Campus Ministry. He currently resides in Lowell, MA, where he is earning an M.Ed. from Providence College through the Providence Alliance for Catholic Teachers (PACT) program by teaching theology at Lowell Catholic High School. Chris can be reached at cwhelan36@gmail.com.
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