On a recent nighttime trip back from a cousin’s wedding, I experienced those rare first few minutes in the car where it took me larger than normal to fall asleep. Perhaps the reason was the bag full of cheese curds I had just eaten or the thousand thoughts that crowded my mind after a beautiful day filled with family. What I think really kept me awake for a few extra minutes as we drove through the intense rural bulkheads between the major cities of Ohio was the occasional late-night light we passed nestled among dozens of other darkened windows. Sometimes it was a lone light in a solitary house in a hidden crease of the earth I may never find again. More often than not, though, the light was the only one out of dozens of possible lights in bundles of buildings where many lives had already resigned for the day. I had to wonder as I myself remained awake why these other people continued keeping their lights on. I realized that I already knew the answer, and this answer had already emerged from several experiences that I had taken part in recently. I hope to share my reflection with you at the beginning of this new school year as that energy that so moves us towards greatness now begins to settle into our bones for the work ahead.
After teaching for two weeks, I am quite familiar with the return to routine and how it drains myself and my students. The last conversation I had with a friend and coworker before I left for the extended weekend was about this very phenomenon, although I did not offer much besides a confirmation that my brain was also stew by that time on a Friday afternoon. Other conversations with teachers only provided me with more examples that spread in every direction. Only over the last few years have I tried to battle this tiredness with the same action that I use to address my work and avoid what truly drains my energy week after week—the belief or plan that I just need to “get through” this week or this series of events. There will always be another week, another series of events, another set of tragedies. While it took me decades of life to determine that this approach was not a plan but a reaction to unfavorable conditions, I now always give myself something I look forward to creating in the future. Even if I may not know what I am creating yet, I have to plan that something will happen when I sit down to write, or why would I work to survive through those unfavorable conditions if the only thing waiting for me are more unfavorable conditions?
With that idea in mind, I expanded this practice until it included others. While I would not consider myself a planner with most of my personal projects, I do find myself planning ahead as much as possible in other areas of my life. Teachers must create plans that are constantly in flux according to the conditions of the classroom, but the detours we take are rarely long or disastrous, and the destination often remains the same no matter what route we take to get there; my writing life seems to be much the same. I never finish one piece of writing without already having an idea for the next piece I hope to complete. I would never propose myself as an example of someone doing a good job, but I will make an argument for someone I see far more often, someone who inspires others nonetheless in a much more quiet way. (I will try to refrain from using myself as an example, because, again, I would be a poor example.) I will call this type of person a lightkeeper, and I hope you have at least one in all areas of your life.
Who are these lightkeepers? They are the ones staying up late keeping the light on despite the dark, working to keep the dark at bay. They work far beyond when they should have gone home or gone to sleep, keeping a fire stoked so that others can benefit from its qualities long after they themselves have grown accustomed to them. It was these lightkeepers that I saw as we made our way back from Ohio in a literal sense, but I also saw one before I left my university last Friday. Lightkeepers also keep hope alive when others have extinguished the optimism of the world through their own careless acts. While they may doubt their own contributions to this effort, at least in all the cases I have taken part in, the rest of us know a lightkeeper when we encounter them in our work. We need people like them in our workplaces and schools, because the latter would not be able to exist even in their hampered forms without the many individuals who keep everything running. I know that many people in these situations do what they do to keep themselves and their organizations surviving, but I hope they choose to be a lightkeeper because they wish to serve in that role rather than surrender themselves to the fatalistic eventuality that they must perform that duty.
I hope that over the next several months I can be one of those lightkeepers for my students, colleagues, and anyone else who needs the light kept on. Whether I serve that purpose for writing or any other need they manifest, I wanted to communicate that I am one of those lights staying on way too late into the night if you need anything. It goes without saying that I am already excited by what I see in my students after these first few weeks and hopeful for the year ahead! See any posts that emerge on this digital space as the light I hope to keep on for others to know that we are still out there doing our great work together.
Leave a Reply