Pride and the Concept of "Should"

It's W today, although I am currently in Atlanta, sitting on M's bed while she does her hair. Didn't I mention in my first post that M is more high maintenance than me? Regardless, it's good to be here visiting my favorite twin sister and to celebrate her "full-body dunk" baptism as Sunday! We were both baptized in the Catholic church as infants, and maybe she'll graciously write a post here about why she is choosing to be baptized again as an adult.

But anyway, back to the topic at hand. Pride. Let me start off by saying that in general, I like to think of myself as a humble person. Sometimes I think I am so humble that I am actually rather self-depricating and self-defeating. I am eager to praise others, I am quick to admit mistakes, and I am one of those people who says sorry too often for things that aren't worth apologizing for.

I was convincted about my pride, however, when I recently went in for a job interview.

In a sense, I'm super excited about the job. I love kids. I love art and music and singing and dancing. I love the idea of teaching parents how to support their child's gross and fine motor development, language acquisition, and social and emotional health. I like working with people and not sitting at a desk and having co-workers that are my own age. I think the idea of incorporating my teaching experience into a setting that is not high-pressure and that is focused on fun could be fantastic. I feel really encouraged that I could help kids develop the skills that they need before they go into school, so that some other first grade teacher out there can actually teach and not spend all of her time trying to make-up for years of skills that kids didn't get when they were in their first major formative developmental stage.

In another sense, I find myself being hesitant to tell people about it. I didn't want to tell my teacher friends, my business-world friends, or even my own dad about it because I felt like they would think it wasn't good enough, that I was too good for it, that I SHOULD be doing something more meaningful, more intellectual, more requiring-of-a-$200,000-degree.

Ding, ding, ding! Pride meter on HIGH.

Do I think this way because I feel like I owe it to someone (God, my dad, myself?) to have a high-paying, super exclusive job? Do I feel like I am not being a good steward of the gifts I've received-- mainly my intelligence and my prestigious college education-- by working in early childhood education instead of non-profit or PR?

Yes and no. I only believe these things if I buy into the idea that anyone can be a teacher, that anyone can take care of kids, and that there is no special talent or training needed to do so. And me, of all people, should believe that this isn't the case. I've seen it first hand! But the idea is so pervasive in our society, this idea that working with kids is a less-than career, that it still makes me feel a little ashamed that I'm not doing something "better." That I'm not doing what I could, or even worse, SHOULD be doing.

The concept of "should" is a dangerous one. It implies judgement, most often on our own choices and how we feel they intersect with the desires that others have for us. My therapist said that "should" needs to be eradicated from my vocabulary. That there are a million choices that I COULD do, and that no one choice is better than any others so long as I am making a prayful, adult, and non-harmful choice for myself and others.

But it's still hard. It's hard when others have expectations of what we should do. It's hard when the desires of our hearts do not align with society's measures of importance and prestige. It's hard when the Lord asks us to be humble in the face of what we believe we deserve, and what we believe we can do for His kingdom.

I don't know yet if I'll get the job. But I do know that it is my duty to make people feel good about however they are contributing to society and the economy, and to take a step back from judging others about what they "should do" in comparison with what they end up doing.