When a teacher lost hope for her students, a new approach changed everything

Janine Schorsch strives to share her faith—and touches of hope—as a faith formation teacher for children at St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross Parish in Bright. (Submitted photo)

(Editor’s note: As Pope Francis has announced that this year is a Jubilee Year for the Church with the theme, “Pilgrims of Hope,” The Criterion has invited you, our readers, to share your stories of hope—how embracing hope has helped and guided you in the toughest moments of your life, how others have given you hope for your future, how your faith in God has sustained you and uplifted you in hope. Here is the second story in a continuing series. See part one | See part three)
 

By John Shaughnessy

In her 42 years as a teacher, Janine Schorsch always approached each school year with the hope and the belief that she would make a difference in the lives of the children she taught.

She had successfully used that approach for 26 years in Catholic schools, followed by more years in a public school. Then came a year of desperation when she was sent to a new public school, a time when she broke down in tears and cried out, “My kids are so bad!”

Still, when she felt that all hope had been lost, everything changed.

“I was only given 10 students, but they were the most unruly, and often violent, students I had ever encountered,” recalls Schorsch, a member of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross Parish in Bright. “I used every ‘trick in the book’ to try to get them under control, to no avail.

“The principal, knowing the kids that I had been given, had told me to send them to the office when they broke school rules. After the third visit, the principal stopped at my room and suggested that my teaching practices were inadequate. I knew there would be no support from administration. I was on my own, out of ideas, and desperate.”

That feeling stayed with her as she participated in a women’s prayer group one weekend.

“During a moment of silent prayer, my hopelessness overwhelmed me, and I began sobbing,” she notes. “The other women were understandably alarmed and concerned. When I could finally get my breath, I was only able to cry, ‘My kids are so bad!’ I then told them the whole situation.

“One of the members asked me to tell them the names of the children. The group committed to praying for them, by name, every day.”

Schorsch hoped the prayers would make a difference, but on that following Monday, she was initially greeted with the same troublesome behavior—followed by an unexpected surprise.

“Two boys were preparing to fight each other when the tallest, meanest girl in the class stepped between them and said, ‘Stop!’ They heard her command and obeyed. I was astonished,” Schorsch says. “Led by the Holy Spirit, I immediately went to the girl and proclaimed her a ‘Peacemaker.’ I made her a special tag to wear that designated her as a Peacemaker.

“She had permission to move about the room freely anytime she saw trouble brewing and help to restore peace. We had lunch together once a week and discussed classroom problems and solutions.”

It was the beginning of the transformation of the class.

“It didn’t take long for others to want to be Peacemakers,” Schorsch recalls. “As a class, we created a ‘job description’ and consequences for not fulfilling the role once they became a Peacemaker. It was not perfect; it needed tweaking as we evolved, but my weekly meetings with the Peacemakers were blessed.

“And the difference in class behavior was astounding. Before, my kids were so focused on being tough enough so no one would bother them that they shut themselves off from positive interaction. At the end of the year, they shared materials and ideas, offered guidance to each other in difficult situations, and truly cared about each other. There were hugs rather than fists. They became compassionate friends.”

The principal noticed the change and stopped by Schorsch’s room to compliment her on the children’s behavior. She also asked what led to the change, wanting Schorsch to share her approach during the next teacher’s meeting.

“I told her, ‘They were prayed for.’ ”

Seeing the principal’s reaction, Schorsch knew it wasn’t the response the administrator wanted to hear.

“She was literally speechless and left. I know it was prayer that changed the behavior of my class,” Schorsch notes. “It saddened me to have the principal turn away, but I know with all my heart that prayer saved my children.”

The memory of that school year still fills Schorsch with joy.

“Without ever being able to mention God, through prayers and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I was able to foster a core feeling in my students that they did matter, they could make a difference in their world, they were worthy and loved. They felt the beauty of being children of God.

“I still think about them and pray for them. I pray that their roles as Peacemakers have helped them to overcome the negative experiences that they would encounter through life. I pray that they learned a different way to live, to give love.”

Schorsch learned a lasting lesson, too.

“It wasn’t enough to pray for God to help me,” she says. “I had to beg his mercy for all of us.”

Here’s a request from Schorsch, who now teaches a faith formation class to children at the parish.

“This is a quote from St. John Baptist de La Salle, ‘To touch the hearts of your students is the greatest miracle you can perform.’ This sums up my goal in teaching,” she says. “Please pray for our students and teachers. Pray and then pray some more. Your prayers can become miracles.”
 

(If you’d like to share your story of hope, please send it to John Shaughnessy by e-mail at jshaughnessy@archindy.org or by mail in care of The Criterion, 1400 N. Meridian St., Indianapolis, IN 46202. Please include your parish and a daytime phone number where you can be reached.) †