Powers for Good

A favorite part of working at a (Catholic) school was marveling at the kids’ summer growth spurts on the first days back to school. Their physical changes after only a few months out of school blew me away. The affectionate ones give big hugs, ‘I’ve missed you!’ Some smile shyly. The older ones mostly do their best to slip by unnoticed.

After shaking my head at their growth, I then hope for the part I can’t immediately see – growth on the inside particular to them -- whether it’s academic, social, or other. I hope their emotional and spiritual growth has kept pace, even just a little, with their physical ones.

One student I recognized as a natural leader, an influencer, even as a 1st grader. We’ll call him Wes. He didn’t stand out in appearance, in academics, or in any way I could see. He was scrawny with an unusual mullet haircut, not the style of the times. I scratched my head that two beautiful first grade girls vied for his attention, with one melting into tears when her attention-grabbing behavior didn’t yield a response from Wes.

He often used his dynamic follow-my-lead ability to steer the class one-by-one, into poor choices. Once, the entire class chose to imitate a jungle animal of Wes’s choosing in the middle of math.

Exacerbated, frazzled, I yelled,

“Wes! God gave you superpowers! Use your powers for GOOD!”

Wes lit up at the thought that he had superpowers. For sure, imagining the characters of Marvel and DC comics, he stopped. He cocked his chin in my direction and challenged, “What’s my superpower?”

It didn’t seem right to tell him his special ability at the time. Maybe I didn’t think he was ready. Maybe I thought he should discover it for himself.

From then on, instead of calling him Wes, I called him by my new title for him. During the entirety of 1st grade, Wes was enamored with his new nickname and beamed whenever I called him ‘Misterrrr Powers for Good’. There were times I saw him genuinely try to live up to his nickname.

When Wes was in 2nd grade, and no longer in my class, I’d see him in the hallway, in the library, in the cafeteria. No matter the distance, he would shout, “Mrs. Smit, I’m using my powers for good! You’re my favorite teacher!”

Whether he actually was doing so at those times was debatable, at best.

I think the reason Wes liked me was because I called out his God-given potential. Without giving a hang-your-head-in-shame lecture, I challenged him. Every time he saw me, he remembered his specialness and his potential.

Isn’t that what we all want? Someone to call us out on our specialness? Instead of a castigation or note home (although that is often necessary) even if we deserve it?

I like to give lectures but receiving them, not so much. So why not give others what we ourselves want?

I used to joke with my own kids when they made poor choices, “You’ve earned this lecture. Now, woman up and come over here and get your lecture!” Then, sometimes I’d lecture them, sometimes not. Now they’re older and they have to lecture themselves but hopefully they self-challenge more than lecture.

A you-can-do-it challenge over a shame-on-you scolding is what we all want. I so wish to give others this, probably because I never had it. Such a thing is like a drink of water in the desert. The one who gave you the drink becomes your favorite.

We all have God-given powers but I’ve learned that many have little inkling of what they are and how to use them. It’s others that ignite the flame of self-knowledge. That’s why God gave us community.

Karol Wojtyla, the future Pope John Paul II, knew God called him to the priesthood. In narrowing down his priestly vocation, he was drawn to the mystical, contemplative life. Naturally, at the end of his formation, he applied to a monastic order.

The Archbishop of Krakow, Most Reverend Sapieha, thought that a charismatic, young intellectual such as Fr. Wojtyla would serve best among the flock. Instead of a monastery, the Archbishop sent him to be a parish priest. With the fruit of the sacraments, prayers, and humility, Karol accepted his assignment. Without the Archbishop recognizing Fr. Wojtyla’s powers and challenging him to use them for the greater good of the Church, we would unlikely know him today as Pope John Paul, the Great, the saint.

We give special consideration to those who themselves engage their powers from God for good.

A brilliant, medical doctor who I worked with as a parent volunteer at our children’s school expressed her frustration at the inability of peer parents to grasp an app we used for the volunteer job. “Why don’t they get it? It’s so simple.”

My first thought: I’m one of the ‘they’ because I don’t grasp this app.

A pitfall of one’s special power can be frustration when others don’t have our same skill.

Our power can come with its own brand of cross. A cross because of the temptation to use it wrongly, a cross because to use it rightly -- to love – is self-sacrificial.

Just as others have an idea of our strengths, they also know our pitfalls. We all want compassion for our faults, not for them to be advertised to others, not to be judged for them. Instead, we want encouragement with compassion and most of all, love. To offer that is loving, forgiving, and compassionate, especially if they’ve wielded their power to hurt us.

While powers have their own particular pitfalls, a common pit is thinking powers are of our own making, when they actually come from God. The anecdote to self-admiration is to plug into the source with prayer, which powers humility (humility is the answer to everything), to frequent the sacraments, and to engage with a community of spiritual friends and mentors.

Stereotypes, our background, our appearance, our family, and our past behavior may cause us to doubt our power or prevent others from recognizing it and the new creations we can become day by day.

Teachers in the upper grades may have heard of Wes’s reputation and labeled him a troublemaker. He had to work hard to show how he could use his powers for good; our reputations precede us.

Love asks Wes’s teachers to avoid typecasting him, but allow for him to grow and change. In Matthew 13:55-57, the people of Jesus’s hometown murmured amongst themselves,

Is he not the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother named Mary and his brothers James, Joseph, Simon, and Judas?...Where did this man get all this?” And they took offense at him…

It’s easy to lock others in their shortcomings and get into a time warp. We don’t like it when others put us in a box but we ourselves get a lot of exercise typecasting others. Sometimes my husband calls me out for putting him in a box of his 20 year-ago-behavior, locking it, and throwing away the key.

Then, I have to repent, go dig around for the key, and let him out. The next time, for the love of God, I resolve, at the very least, to put him in a bigger box and update him to 5-years-ago behavior (which is about the age of the fashion in my closet, which I know will come back in style!). He deserves that much, with what God’s doing in his life, and all.

I think about Wes and remember the challenging students most vividly. I also recall the times, with regret, when I didn’t encourage them and give them my best. Lord, I pray for them and ask you to redeem it all!

Thanks be to God, Wes isn’t one of them. He will have many chances to learn and practice his skill of influence for good throughout his life, in school, and in the world.

God promises redemption and restoration to Israel’s past sins in Isaiah 43:18-19: Remember not the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; See, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?...

In God’s economy, nothing is beyond redemption. Belong to Christ; tap into the power and open your eyes to see God’s grace in your life.

2 Corinthians 5:17 Anyone who belongs to Christ is a new person. The old life is gone. A new life has begun.

A new school year of learning and growing has begun. Bring it on and use your powers for good!

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Frances Smit is a children’s book author, catechist, and Catholic writer. With God, there’s always more.