The Clod and the Pebble

“Love seeketh not itself to please,

Nor for itself hath any care,

But for another gives its ease,

And builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair.

So sung a little Clod of Clay,

Trodden with the cattle’s feet,

But a Pebble of the brook

Warbled out these metres meet:

Love seeketh only self to please,

To bind another to its delight,

Joys in another’s loss of ease,

And builds a Hell in Heaven’s despite.”

-William Blake from his poem The Clod & The Pebble.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Yep, another poem. This may become a thing with me, I’m not sure yet. At any rate, I had the inspiration today to look up poems I once read and loved.

When I was in college, I was studying to become an English teacher. (For a brief time. I know you’re probably wondering how I’m a teacher now. I’ll get to that later.) In one of my classes, I chose this poem for a particular YouTube project. I don’t even remember now what the project was supposed to be or why I chose the poem.

What I do remember is that the poem stayed with me. What I really like about the poem is that it is two different takes on love. The clay is malleable and trodden upon. The clay is all about giving your love to someone else and meeting their needs. You do whatever it takes to make them happy. You sacrifice yourself for the one you love. But the pebble, the smooth and hard pebble. The pebble doesn’t believe in bending for the other person. In the pebble’s view, love is selfish and makes the other person bend to YOUR wishes and wants.

When I chose that poem for my project, I was single and in my early 20s. Now I’m 30 and happily married. I am also a teacher. My views on love have understandably changed. When I first chose that poem, I tended to side with the clay. I was very idealistic and naïve.

OK, let’s be real. I’m still idealistic and naïve. Just not as much. Now I understand that love is a balance between being selfish and selfless. Marriage is not 50/50. There will be times where you have to carry the mental load for your spouse. There will be times where you’re going through a hard time and your spouse is carrying it.

I’d have to say that right now, my husband is the one carrying the load for us. Because I am a first-year teacher. And so far, it has been hard. Really hard. REALLY HARD.

Here’s how I got to this point. Let me provide a brief summary of my life from my early 20s till now.

When I was in college, I decided that I wanted to become an English teacher. I wanted to wax poetic about Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet with my 9th graders. I wanted to have invigorating class discussions about Mice and Men. I wanted my students to learn to love poetry as I did. I wanted my students to stand on their desks and shout “O Captain, My Captain!”

OK, I’m just kidding with that last part.

But at some point during college, I became scared to actually become a teacher. Plus my father had a health scare in my second to last final year. My grades suffered. I no longer had the grades to stay in the Teacher Education program.

Faced with the prospect of doing college another year, I decided to simply switch my major to English and try to enter the journalism or publishing field.

So I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in English. I nabbed two internships, back-to-back. They were amazing internships and I learned a lot. But I do confess that I could have worked harder at my internships. I was still a bit irresponsible and lazy back then. I still wonder, if I had worked harder, could I have gotten a job with one of them?

I’ll never know.

So after my internships ended, I moved back home with my parents. I began working as a cashier at a grocery store (where I met my husband!) while I applied to writing and editing jobs in the journalism and publishing field.

I came very close to getting one. I was told that it was down to me and this other girl. That it was very close between us. But her graphic design skills were slightly better so she got the job.

Defeated, I bounced around from job to job. Finally, in summer 2014, THREE YEARS after I finished college, I decided to give up on pursuing a career in publishing. I became an assistant teacher at a daycare.

Then I climbed the education ladder to my present career. A 3rd-grade teacher at a public elementary school.

And…so far, I hate it. Don’t get me wrong, there are aspects of teaching that I like. Like when the kids are all engaged in the lesson and are being respectful. But let’s be real. How often does that happen? For me, the bad is heavily outweighing the good.

I have a difficult class and I’m just wondering if I am meant to be a teacher. Do I really want to battle with my kids every day to get them to be quiet and pay attention to the lesson? Do I really want to deal with behavior problems every day?

At this point, I really don’t know. I’m just struggling to survive.

I graduated college in 2011. It’s now 2018. Have I wasted the last seven years of my life? I’m not sure yet.

My husband and all of my teacher friends keep encouraging me to stick it out. They say that it’ll get better. I sincerely hope they’re right.

At any rate, I plan on diving back into my blog. I plan on writing again. I used to write short stories all the time! I miss that part of myself. And I’m going to bring it back.

So if you’d like to keep up with my journey (I know, such a stereotypical word) of being a first-year teacher, navigating married life, being a woman in the early 30s and life in general, stick around! Feel free to leave a comment, I’d love to hear from any readers.

Until next time!