Digital journaling in practice: Choosing Grace When Words Wound

The devil only knows our responses, not our thoughts—so trick him.

Emotions are real—and necessary. They remind us that we are human. But I’ve learned something vital: have them, but don’t let them have you.

In this field, especially, you’ll find yourself smiling when you’re raging inside. You’ll have to walk away when every part of you wants to stay and unapologetically give them a piece of your mind. You’ll learn to be kind to your enemies. You’ll learn that walking away, reframing, gives you more power.

Matching Energy Without Losing Yourself

If you’ve ever wanted to match a parent's tone, correct a colleague’s attitude, or clap back at a student’s disrespect—you’re not alone. But here’s the thing: you don’t have to match energy that drains you. You can redirect it. You can lead it. You can choose to stay grounded even when chaos tries to pull you in and down.

This post is for the teachers who are tired of taking on everyone else’s emotional load. It’s for the educators learning to set boundaries in a building where everyone expects you to be “on” all the time.

Sometimes, grace sounds like silence—even when this is what’s screaming inside :

Colleague: You’ve been very quiet today.
Me: Yeah. You annoyed me and I’m trying my best not to say that.

Posted by Work Memes on  Saturday, July 20, 2024

Caption: A silent reaction can be the loudest boundary (Work Memes, 2024).

A Transparent Moment from My Files

Imagine working as a secondary instructional coach in a high-needs school. Fast forward a year. It’s late August. I walk into a classroom I expected to feel resistance in. What happened is something I’ve tried to forget, but it has become an unwanted core memory I still pray about and use to encourage myself and now you.

I waited outside the door instead of using my key, hoping for a natural entry. When I finally mustered the courage to walk in, let’s just say I was silently escorted out and given an “overview.” I stood. I nodded. I looked like I was listening—but inside, I was boiling, and definitely not quoting scripture.

As I walked back to my room, I overheard the teacher just outside her own door—students still behind it—on the phone with someone. She didn’t say it to me directly, but I heard her clearly: “I’m tired of hearing her defecating in my ear.” Maybe her scholars heard it too. Either way, those words chomped at my credibility and almost killed my confidence.

In that moment, I wanted to quit. She was a teacher leader—someone others listened to. If she felt this way, who else did? Was I even a positive contributor? Was this where God wanted me to be?

I’m not sure. But I am sure that there are some of my colleagues whose looks of disapproval could’ve been seen by Stevie Wonder. And yet—nevertheless—I kept showing up. I kept offering support. I kept trying to cultivate an atmosphere that welcomed instructional coaching and embraced disciplinary literacy practices. I kept advocating for scholars to experience joy in learning-be seen, empowered, and valued in every space. I kept believing in the power of embracing each new day with renewed purpose because to some educators in the building I was welcomed partner. I kept showing up for scholars who needed a reminder that they are enough, a dose of motherly advice, an accountability partner-someone to care whose title was not school counselor.

Yes, I was on assignment.

Please know—this is not about outing a specific teacher or school. This moment is shared to show that I am in the trenches doing the same work I’m championing you to do. It is not easy, but it is necessary. Our scholars are always listening and watching. Our sphere of influence is great, and with that comes great responsibility to lead with compassion and conviction.

“Watch your words and watch Him work.” —Dr. LaTausha Daniels, NBCT, my educational partner in crime, family, sister, friend, and mentor now in heaven with the Lord

Interrupting the Narrative

Scholar Yolanda Sealey-Ruiz reminds us that teaching is not just about instruction—it’s about disruption. Her call for educators to become “interrupters” directly supports the work we must do to guard our emotional response, shape school climate, and model what restorative leadership looks like (Sealey-Ruiz, 2018).

This moment in the blog echoes the heartbeat of her message: we are not just reacting—we are intentionally rewriting what it means to lead in love. Her words align with my belief that teachers have the power to interrupt harmful patterns in schools. We don’t match destructive energy—we interrupt it. We choose to redirect rather than react, responding with emotional intelligence and cultural awareness (Sealey-Ruiz, 2018).

Figure 1
Yolanda Sealey-Ruiz speaks on the role of educators as cultural and emotional interrupters. From Teacher as Interrupter (Sealey-Ruiz, 2018).

Scripture for Strength

The Bible reminds us in Ephesians 6:10–18 to put on the whole armor of God. This includes the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, and the shield of faith. This passage is a call to spiritual preparedness. In the same way, we must spiritually and emotionally armor up before we walk into schools that require our strength, patience, and grace (The Holy Bible, 2011, Ephesians 6:10–18).

As digital writers, we must also remember that “it is an ethical, social, civic responsibility to be truthful, accurate, and honest when writing and publishing in any space” (Lawrence, D., 2022, p. 60). This reminder underscores the emotional, spiritual, and professional responsibility we carry as educators who share our voices online.

Why This Post Matters

This blog post is more than a reflection—it’s a practical application of restored emotional discipline and restorative teaching. It shows how pathos—when used wisely—can help us navigate the emotional shifts that can impact our work. It invites educators to reflect, to protect their inner peace, and to lead without emotional regret.

“Pathos makes a message memorable. When students use emotion effectively—especially in digital formats—they don’t just persuade, they move people.” —Lawrence, Digital Writing, 2022

Writing this post is helping me realize more and more that nothing is wasted in God. Digital writing is just as cathartic as writing in my old school worn tangible journal. I’m not just writing, I’m rewriting—negativity, hurt, and disappointment while doing so purposefully, digitally. This post also reflects how “language is learned naturally through experiencing the world” (Lawrence, D., 2022, p. 165). When students—and educators—engage with digital writing as a space to process, reflect, and express, it mirrors how language and learning authentically unfold.

Who knows who will be transformed by words handwritten in HTML code.

References

• Lawrence, D. (2022). Digital writing: A guide to writing for social media and the Web. Ontario, Canada: Broadview Press.
• Sealey-Ruiz, Y. (2018, October 11). Teacher as interrupter [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6n8kuRE9dU
• The Holy Bible, New International Version. (2011). Zondervan. (Original work published 1973)
• Work Memes. (2024, July 20). Colleague: You’ve been very quiet today. Me: Yeah. You annoyed me and I’m trying my best not to say that [Facebook status update]. Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/Officialworkmemes/posts/11005410521