BeamS

BeamS
Shards of Excellence
by Diane Bisping
Academic excellence is a phrase that rolls
off the tongue with effortless clarity. It
exudes perfection, quality, and brilliance.
It is predictable, measurable, and defined.
Yet there is a peculiar depth to excellence
that begs to break barriers and move into
the realm of the inconceivable. It is in this
place where excellence is best discovered,
and at times can be seen in the shards of
a million broken pieces.
I came home feeling nostalgic after spending the
weekend camping with my daughter and her two
closest friends. While feeling gratitude, I stood gazing
onto our back yard, when my joy soon turned to despair.
As I stood there, wide-eyed, mouth dropped open, I
discovered the destruction caused by a storm that had
blown through the area the night before. The patio
table, six chairs, and umbrella lay strewn across the deck.
Cushions billowed haphazardly, and a glass tabletop
was now shattered in a million pieces. I stood there
stunned, pondering the innumerable crystal fragments
separated by the explosion. Understanding the enormity
of that task, I took note instead of where those pieces
had landed. Not only were they wedged between the
floorboards, but also they were scattered on the rock
platform below. All I could see was the daunting task
that lay before me. Any attempt at sweeping it up would
take hours to get every shard, but even more difficult
would be the mess below, the debris that remained
hidden from view. Realization came to me that even if
I swept thoroughly, there would always be unnoticed
remnants. This task overwhelmed me, and so I decided
in that moment to walk away. I looked, I assessed,
and, in my frustration, I walked away.
Shards of excellence include humility.
As the teacher of the Resource Program, I
have the privilege to work with students who
rarely have the choice to walk away from an
“upturned table” and who oftentimes are
described as being unable to reach academic
excellence. The Resource Program provides
academic support for students who are
struggling. Excellence for these students,
takes on a unique and extraordinary essence.
Students come to the program with a variety
of needs and crossing the threshold of the
room acknowledges those needs, and stakes a
claim of readiness for change. So it is with the
Christian walk: the start of a new life begins
with the recognition of the need for help and
a choice to seek after that help. This qualifying
nature begins with humility–an agreement to
set aside pride and stubbornness–and adopt
a spirit of cooperation. There is a moment
of vulnerability in this action that lies open,
exposed to all, and yet the human spirit longs
to trust that there is safety in this place of
humility. It is here where Jesus infuses His
greatest authority in our lives, where the
mystery of His character takes what is least
and makes it great, then takes what we have
made great, and reveals its insignificance.
Once a student admits to the brokenness in
his own back yard, the process of redefining
his identity begins. Jesus’ identity has
always been revealed most in the midst of
challenge. Humanity has always strived to
label Jesus or put Him in a defined box. For
many of my students, labels have permeated
their childhood and young adult years so
much so they come to accept the belief that
these defining markers actually create the
expectations for their lives. Instead of living
out those defining markers, the students learn
to use the brokenness as a bridge to excellence.
Jesus desires to take what seems lost and
broken and use it for beauty. Eventually
everyone experiences back yard disasters, but
only the courageous are willing to admit to
the disarray, and only the humble get busy to
make it better.
After many days, I finally was able to go back to my deck
door and peer out again on the altered scene. This time
an unfamiliar acceptance flowed through me. I suddenly
realized the lack of deck furniture did not make me who
I was, nor defined my worth, and so I no longer felt the
disastrous loss. With this new attitude, I opened the door
and walked out onto the deck. Suddenly, with a fresh
perspective and a transformed view, the sun reflected off
the shards to create a most beautiful prism. I stopped to
gander for what seemed a transfixed time and realized
all the crystals gave off a separate rainbow, as if each
one assisted in its own glory and purposely fit with the
others. I now looked at the mess much differently and
decided to leave it there a bit longer, but this time not
out of discouragement, but rather out of contentment
– a satisfaction in the mess.
Shards of excellence include
transformation.
In order to discover brilliance, students in the
Resource Program have learned to overcome
obstacles by changing themselves. A choice
is made to set aside sadness, and to no longer
make excuses, but instead cling to the belief
that God has designed them for greater
things. Therefore, the novel must be read
despite dyslexia, connections with classmates
must once again be attempted in spite of
Aspergers, and the test needs preparation,
even if the Attention Deficit Disorder makes
focusing seem impossible. And if that were
not enough, a father still needs forgiveness
even when he has abandoned the family, a
mother needs compassion when healing from
addiction, and a grandfather needs respect
especially when he has stepped in for an
absent parent. There can be a peace in the
brokenness and an unwillingness to let it steal
joy. There is a freedom in learning to live
with the shards of imperfection and in the
Kingdom, knowledge that shards can create
excellence. Excellence dares to push beyond,
in spite of the mess. It is in this place that
hope has a chance to breed and character of
heart is found.
After the back yard chaos had camped there for so long,
I knew it was time to clean it up. I acknowledged no
one else was going to sweep up my mayhem and so I
began the looming task of gathering each small piece.
I started with the big chunks, although there were not
very many of those. Most were reduced to fragments
just large enough to get lodged between the wooden
planks. It took planning, time, and perseverance to stay
positive and not become overwhelmed. When I looked
down to the rock platform below, I could spot little tiny
pieces nestled within the stones. My first thought was
to go rescue those little pieces, but then I smiled as I said
to myself, “I’m going to leave those just where they are”.
I knew no one would step there where they could get
injured, and there was a strange form of comfort to me
knowing they were there, a kind of reminder of what
was important and what should remain.
Shards of excellence are often hidden.
Victory crosses unseen barriers. Thankfully,
I am allowed to see the many successful
triumphs of the students with whom I work.
When grades and test scores recognize
academia, there exists a unique essence of
excellence not easily seen or measured and
often unrecognized and unrewarded. Students
of the Resource Program must come to a place
of acceptance that few will understand.
Not many will realize their amazing feats.
Being one of the few, I see when a student
cares for her abandoned parent in the hospital
well into the evening and then goes home to
hours of homework, all the while learning
how to deal with her own recent diagnosis
of an autoimmune disease. I am privileged
to listen to a young man, who longs to be
accepted by his father but finds he stands
alone, protecting his mother, and challenging
himself to live out his choices differently.
I watch a young student grow from being
frightened of relationships, come to find a
community and a place of acceptance where
he can risk laughing at himself and with
others. These are moments of excellence,
where lives break the barriers of the
anticipated and move into the inconceivable.
Just because a grade does not recognize one
as such or a test score does not measure such
accomplishment, nor does that mean that
excellence has not been achieved. I observe
students every day who face fear, anxiety, and
ridicule. They come to not just face it but stare
it down and challenge it with a tenacity that
is far above the expected. I can see, because
I look beyond, to the tiny fragments that are
hidden between the stones, and it is there that
I smile and remember that excellence at times
can be seen in a million broken pieces.
About the Author
Diane Bisping
Diane Bisping, M.A., is the
Resource Program Director
at Concordia Academy.
The Resource Program
assists students who
are in need of academic
support. This is Diane’s
ninth year at Concordia
and her twenty-fifth year
in special education, her
former experience having
been spent in public
education. She received
her bachelor’s degree in
elementary education at
St. Cloud State University
and her master’s degree in
Differentiated Instruction
from Concordia, St. Paul.
Her son is in his second
year at Gustavus Adolphus
College, and graduated
from Concordia in 2011. Her
daughter, currently a senior
at Concordia, is on track to
attend University of North
Dakota next year. Diane’s
passion is helping students
find God’s value and
purpose in life’s challenges,
and then using those
challenges to bless others.
6 Beams • Winter 2013 Winter 2013 • Beams 7