“A House Divided.” This phrase has resonated throughout history since its origin in the gospels. Most Americans associate the phrase with Abraham Lincoln who famously used it to describe the disastrous state of the United States during the Civil War. Recently this phrase and its implications became startlingly clear in my own work life.

The motto of my school is TEAM, Together Everyone Accomplishes More. in emails to the faculty and staff, administrators and faculty alike address the group as “Team.” In an ideal world. this sentiment would infuse our very action creating a powerhouse that worked to better the lives of every student in the school. As is too often the case, the team ideal stops at the surface only and acts as a screen which passive/aggressive actions can be hidden behind and hidden poorly. This reputation plagues my school throughout the district and has for years. I knew this when I took the job and prepared myself accordingly.

If I knew this when I took the job, what prompted me to write this piece now?

Last year, due to the tremendous turnover, only three of the eight seventh grade teachers taught seventh grade the year before, one other taught eighth and had moved down to seventh. The other four, including myself, were brand new to the school. God providentially put together a group of teachers who bonded personally and professionally, creating a real team that operated in lockstep to improve the lives and education of our students.

This cohesion appeared to threaten my principal. At the end of the year last year, almost all of us faced moving to another position. I was told that I would move to eighth grade. My cohort, before transferring to another school was supposed to move to related arts. The math teachers would move to sixth and eighth grade. One of the science teachers would move to sixth grade. There may have been other moves in the works that we did not know about. We fount hard to preserve our team. When the dust settled, six out of the eight of us returned in the exact same position. We started the current school year confident that our team unity would help us endure whatever chaos may come our way.

However, despite considerable advice to the contrary my principal made a decision of questionable legality which has resulted, so far, in the mid-year resignation of one teacher, the near resignation of at least three more and has fostered such intense resentment between some teachers that they walk past each other as if the other teacher did not exist.

Up until the end of January, the seventh grade still worked together, still presented a united front. Some interpersonal issues existed but that could be dealt with internally. We still had each other’s back or at least that’s what my team felt.

Last week my principal dropped a grenade into an already tense situation thanks to snow days and an uncertain testing schedule. This grenade found its origin in the decision I alluded to above. The concussive blast left us reeling. Word of the impending changes leaked out to the students, adding their justifiable fear and insecurity to the already unstable mix.

The previously united seventh grade team, the last man standing, began to splinter. Confusion and animosity soured the air of a meeting designed to help us reach a consensus. The death-blow came that afternoon when two members of the other team chose to air their grievances to the principal in a manner, intended or not, that cast blame on those who formerly worked with them to create a united front in the face of uncertainty.

Much of the fallout has yet to be felt. I choose to not speculate on another person’s motives. I still struggle to understand though. I struggle to comprehend how something like my justifiable confusion over testing schedule was interpreted as having malicious intent. I struggle to understand how we can repair these broken relationships for the sake of our students. I find myself baffled at the choice of going to supervisor with a problem rather than addressing the colleague first. I could fill an entire essay with the things I do not understand about this specific situation.

Some of the uncertainty has been resolved through top down intervention by our grade level administrator, an intervention which could have been avoided if we had been able to work together ass a team. Yet, my heart weighs heavy within me. I hurt for the fallout yet to come. I hurt for the destruction of a tight-knit friendship. I hurt for our students who may suffer because of everything involved.

With little effort, my pointing figure could find those upon whom to cast blame. That solves nothing. That continues and exacerbates the infliction of pain on the one who blames the perpetrator and all the innocent bystanders.

How do we move forward from here? How do I move forward? The easy thing to do would be to sink to the blame game and retreat to the safe haven of those I know will not hurt me or those I love. I am not called to do the easy thing. At this point, I do not speak for anyone else on my team although I have told them what I have chosen to do. As I move forward, I choose to let go of all the hurt caused by the actions of others, something I am able to do only with God’s help. Instead of holding onto hurt, I choose to extend the hand of friendship no matter how they choose to respond.

I harbor no illusion that my actions along will change anything. Why then do I choose to act in a way that could bring more personal hurt? I choose this bath because it is right. I may not be able to change anything but I serve a God who can change everything. Though things may appear hopeless for a moment, God will turn all things to His glory, even this. He will unite the divided house.