We asked a number of students to reflect on their #JourneytoSTM through a unique path. Since no path is ever the same, we decided to share three individuals who came to the CSTM after teaching to briefly share their story.
Nick Fagnant, M.Ed., M.A.T.M., Ph.D. Student
“I never feel as alive as I do in a classroom or on retreat with my high school students. To quote Dr. Brené Brown, so many kids do not believe that they are “worthy of love and belonging,” and it was a deep honor to be able to accompany them through their desolations and into their consolations. I helped my students encounter Jesus as a friend and brother and spread that love beyond the borders of their own hearts and into our school and broader communities. Many of my students identified as LGBTQ+, and working with them was simultaneously joyous and heartbreaking. I journeyed to the CSTM to better engage with the theology that my LGBTQ+ students felt marginalized them and to help the Church better proclaim not only that LGBTQ+ folks are “worthy of love and belonging,” but celebrated as crucial members of the Body of Christ. When finishing my MATM, I realized that there was more work to be done, so I discerned that the Spirit was calling me to continue my journey into the PhD in Theology and Education. I am currently working to become a leader in the movement to ensure that the Church continues in its development toward loving our LGBTQ+ students in ways that would make my students proud.”
Samantha Eckrich, MATM ’24, Arrupe Jesuit High School Biology and Art Teacher in Denver, Colorado
“The past few years, I’ve been working at Arrupe Jesuit High School as a Biology and Art Teacher in Denver, Colorado. I started there as a part of a volunteer program after graduating, and at this point, I didn’t know what shape my life would take. I followed the inner impulse to become a teacher almost on a whim. I had a sense that here was a profession that would be challenging in the best of ways–I wanted to place myself in a sphere where I knew I would grow. And I did. Part of this was the incredible community of supportive and joyful staff, but it was also at it’s core, the relationships with students themselves. My first year of teaching, I would have been horrified at a bottle of blue paint exploding across a room of twenty-five Freshmen. It would signify a feeling of failure and lack of control. But by the end of my time as a teacher, I had become a person who stopped, assessed, but then broke into laughter at the ridiculous scene of shocked blue faces and fresh paint dripping down dress clothes onto the floor. The reaction of the class was nervous laughter as they joined in the shared moment–almost frozen in time–where the reality of companioning one another on the turbulent yet silly journey of life felt more tangible than ever. On this pilgrimage of becoming ourselves (teachers, people of faith, more fully-realized humans), there are moments we get to stop and see something in ourselves that isn’t the same; it has shifted or grown. When I reflect on my own development, I can see how teaching shaped me, and I can imagine how these activated gifts, desires, skills, and dreams might continue to flourish and morph in new contexts, on a tangential path. I once again found myself desiring to be placed in a space that would challenge and shape me anew, and I found the CSTM. I am only in my first few weeks here, so there are still many “blue paint moments” to come, but I’m here with open palms, ready to become.“
Jack Connors, Teacher for four years at Aquinas High School in Augusta, GA.
“As I sat, profoundly exhausted, in the back of the dark, gently rustling chapel, I wondered what on earth I was doing. It was a Friday in Lent, a perfect excuse for a much needed break from the classroom for both myself and my students to spend the hour in adoration. As I glanced around, a few students were frantically studying for a test, at least a dozen were asleep, and a few more were furtively (or at least they thought) playing games on their phones. A lone student or two was kneeling in prayer.
Slightly annoyed by the general obstinacy, I reflected on my choice to become a high school history teacher three years prior. I was going to make a difference. Stories, leaders, progress: these things mattered and I could inspire students to change the world. The reality, though, was long hours of talking about facts no one would remember, interrupted by endless squabbles over grades or due dates. Yes, there were moments when a spark in students’ eyes would let me know that what we were doing mattered, but was it enough?
As I glanced around the room, from the Blessed Sacrament back to the kids, the reality spoke to me. I chose this career because I truly want to help these kids grow as people, not simply as essay writers or college applicants. Deep down, I truly want to care for them- even the one now audibly snoring in the front row. Sitting in that slightly stuffy, overcrowded chapel the answer was suddenly clear. The call was to authentically care for young people, and I was going to need help to live it out.
A year later, I applied to the School of Theology and Ministry at Boston College. Here I have been able to think about education not simply as memorization of facts or comprehension of dogmas, but as a ministry. My classes are preparing me to not only help students come to know the teachings of the Church, but know they are loved and cared for through my own witness to the love and mercy of my silent, yet assertive, dialogue partner from that day in the chapel.”