A Letter to My Future ACE Teachers

A letter to my future ACE teachers:

“I think I’ve made a grave mistake.” This was a sentence I wrote on a teal post-it, tacked to the cork board of my Alumni Hall room, my first week of my first ACE summer. I’d guess that now, at the end of your first week of classes, a few of you might be feeling this way. Having elected to do service in a new place while learning a new profession and living with people you’ve never met, this is a reasonable response, especially after a week of classes from morning to evening, with assignments due each night. 

My first ACE summer was so hard that I took up running. This entirely new practice was the only thing that effectively communicated the intensity of the summer to my friends and family. It really made an impression – they were equal parts shocked, bemused, and concerned. I found that laboring around the lakes was the only thing that kept my mind even enough to consider the work of the next day (and the next). 

There was a particular feeling I would have when I just about reached Our Lady of Guadalupe on the south side of St. Joseph’s lake, nearing the end of my route. I’d be anxious to keep going, to keep following the lingering summer sun, running from my desk, the work, the anxiety of another day of doing a thing I wasn’t good at. But, I was not fit enough to actually keep going and not strong enough at teaching to give coursework and planning a rest. 

So, I’d pass Our Lady in the tree trunk, complete my loop, pass her again in the grotto, and then wobble, slowly, back to Alumni. The summer felt like a lot of that – running, teaching poorly, trying to catch my breath, then doing it again, all under Mary’s gaze. 

All this is to say is that it’s going to be hard, probably in different ways for each of you. Some will find lesson and unit planning to be mind-boggling, an ever-shifting puzzle. Others will struggle with being either “warm” or a “demander” when your students test you, sensing that you might be a little green. For a few of you, the new early-morning schedule is going to be a real challenge. And, the rollicking social calendar of the summer ACE teacher amplifies it all. It seemed impossible. Thus, the running. 

This summer, I’m back to jogging.

On Monday, I’ll walk into a new classroom to teach a new class to a new cohort of ACE teachers. Yes, the content is familiar, and yes, I’ve done this many times before. But the weighty sense of responsibility will be there, not dissimilar from the pressure of practicum my first summer, of the first day of the school year, and of every first-day I’ve taught since. The running still helps, but the humility, persistence, and sense of humor I’ve grown help more. I credit those to ACE. 

ACE summer is hard, and yet, you have been called to this work, to serve your students, your community, and God. You have been called to learn to teach, and to teach well. It is hard, and yet, you will learn to do the hard work, under Our Lady’s gaze. I am so eager to accompany you. 

With gratitude and anticipation,
Meghan Kuehnle