A God of Surprises

by Erin M. Conway

One of the things I love the most about working with high school students is the way they surprise and delight me every day. There is no greater evidence of God’s presence in my life than the young men and women who enter my classroom and invite me to share in their journey. Whether it is through their unsolicited hugs, their indulgence in my less than hilarious jokes, their thoughtful writing, their courage in the face of a society that seeks to tear them down, or their simple willingness to show up day in and day out, they show me God’s love on a daily basis.

In his new book Barking to the Choir (my chosen Christmas break reading),¹ Father Greg Boyle, SJ writes of the homies he works with at Homeboy Industries: “I enjoy their company, for it is light and affectionate, and charming and good for the soul. To be with them ignites the contagion of God’s own tenderness. I never once feel them less than bright, wise, and courageous.” He says again later, “to sit at their feet has been nothing short of salvific.” The same can certainly be said of my students.

A group of students from the Saint Martin de Porres Class of 2018.

This year, I’ve been particularly surprised by the young men in my classroom. Although Saint Martin is co-ed, girls outnumber boys in our school at an almost 3:1 ratio by the time senior year comes around. On more than one occasion I’ve had only 2 or 3 boys in a classroom of 20 or more. During my first two years at Saint Martin, this skewed ratio meant that the girls in my classroom not only outnumbered the boys, but they also out-talked and out-shone them. I had such strong young women in my classroom that their male counterparts simply faded into the background and were rarely heard from. Even in their writing, the girls outshone the boys.

It would be insincere to say that at least a part of me didn't love the fact that young women were unafraid to speak their mind and take charge in my classroom. High school age girls often fade to the background in their classrooms, afraid of being perceived as “too smart.” However, I quickly discovered that the almost complete lack of male opinion or voice in our conversation was perhaps more harmful than helpful. A good classroom – and community – requires a diversity of voices and opinions.

The Class of 2018 has provided that diversity. In addition to the thoughtful, compassionate, and mature young women I’ve been blessed with as in the past, this year my classroom has benefitted from a group of young men who are unafraid to witness to their faith, make their voices heard, show compassion, share their stories, and challenge the conversation.

Recently in his writing, Nicholas,² one of these young men, described himself as “a kid who is trapped inside of an almost full, grown body.” He continued, “I’m full of so much energy, it is ridiculous. My energy comes from me wanting to see everyone happy.” I was floored when I read those words. I couldn’t have described him better if I had tried. He is unabashedly and delightfully himself. Every day when he passes me in the hallway he calls out “Conway!” and gives me a high five, usually with a plaid scarf tied around his head. His joy at seeing me never ceases to make my day, it delights and surprises me every time.

Earlier in the year, another teacher was asking Nicholas if he was still up to his old games – goofing off with friends and struggling to get work done on time (not because he couldn’t do it, but because the allure of just being that kid trapped inside an almost full grown body was too much). “Not this year! I’m killing it in Theology class” he proclaimed excitedly. “Tell her, Ms. Conway!” he called, looking down the hallway to me for assurance. I confirmed his words, grateful to be drawn into God’s own tenderness.

A senior and freshman pair up and talk about life
during a Big Brother Big Sister meeting.
Seniors have a chance to mentor and share their wisdom
with a new generation of Lions.

Lloyd is one of those young people who’s so much smarter than his peers that it sometimes gets him into trouble. He sees through the bullshit and is willing to call you out on it, teacher or not. But if you are real with him, if you listen, his words will astound you. He is, after all, just a kid, trying to navigate a world stacked against him. He wrote recently, “The countless pitfalls implanted in my community makes everyday a dice roll. I remember feeling trapped in a place that was slowly brainwashing me into believing that this was the only way to survive, but there's an entire world outside of mine. One where violence isn't a normality. I will not let my upbringing stop my uprising.” Nothing less than bright, wise, and courageous.

I breathed a sigh of relief this year when our college counselor told me that Lloyd called my class “one of the classes he actually likes” (can you hear the surprise in his voice?). I knew I was really “in,” however, when Lloyd borrowed, or more accurately, stole, my sunglasses off my desk one day and proceeded to wear them in all of his remaining classes. I was told after school that he had been telling his classmates that he picked them up “on our trip to Paris.” How could I not take delight in that? Light and affectionate, certainly good for the soul.

Perhaps the biggest surprise of my year has been a young man named Bernard. When I met Bernard at the start of the school year I expected a knucklehead. I can’t pinpoint my thinking precisely, perhaps it was because he reminded me of one of the middle school boys I taught in Baltimore or because I’m more judgmental than I’d like to admit, but if I’m being truly honest, I didn't expect much from Bernard. Thankfully, God knew better.

Pieces of my students' mission statements

that now hang on the wall of our classroom

as a reminder of our goals.

Bernard has proven himself time and again as a young man willing to feel and share emotion. One day during prayer intentions he shared a story of his neighbor who was had been diagnosed and was suffering from HIV/AIDs. Bernard’s voice caught as he shared his concern for his neighbor and asked for our prayers. His willingness to show vulnerability was a beautiful reminder God’s presence among us.

Perhaps the moment that will stick out most to me about Bernard, however, is his response to our final project of the semester. As the conclusion to our unit on vocation, I asked my students to write a mission statement describing who they believe they are called to be and what they are called to do in their lives. On the day the assignment was due, we had a Coffee House Reading where each student read their work aloud to their classmates while breaking bread (muffins) and drinking hot chocolate together.

Bernard began his own reading with the following words: “Before I became the man I am today, I was once a reckless, irresponsible, hell-raising, and immature teenager. Until the day I realized that there was an ounce of hope for me, and an ounce was all I needed to strive for this change.” Not only did Bernard’s mission statement blow me away with its thoughtfulness, but I was also touched by his response to the words of his classmates. He recognized the sacredness of the moment and was moved by it. “We should do this more often,” he told the class, “I love this.” Sitting at his feet was truly salvific that day.

Delight. Joy. Awe.

All of these young men, reminders of how much God loves me.

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1 Perhaps the only surprise in this revelation is that it took me over 6 weeks to start reading this book.^↩

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2 I’ve changed students’ names to keep them anonymous, but all the stories are as true as my memory allows them to be.^↩