At 21 years old, it is more than a little unnerving to have a group of guys virtually your same age refer to you as "Brother Coppins." Of course, in my case, its "Hermano Coppins." But you get the point. For the past five months, I have worked as a teacher at the Missionary Training Center in Provo. Every nine weeks, I get a new batch of brand new elders, and I get to teach them everything from Spanish verb conjugations to the Abrahamic covenant. As I look back on the past year, some of the greatest life lessons I learned in 2008 were taught to me at the MTC. Below are just a few.
One afternoon I was sitting on a bench in the MTC, preparing the lesson I was about to teach, and I noticed a pretty girl sitting on the bench across from me. She was alone and apparently doing the same thing I was. This was it! I had been working here only three days and already I had found my eternal companion! She caught me stealing glances and smiled. We spent the next 15 minutes checking each other out — in a totally MTC-appropriate way, mind you. I tried hard to look contemplative as I stared at the same 'Preach My Gospel' page for several minutes. I even faked a phone call on my cell so that I could show off my Spanish. My lesson prep time was winding up and I knew I had to ask this girl on a date, lest I miss out on a blessing that heaven was so obviously placing before me. I spent a minute practicing the positive thinking techniques my mission president had taught me. "Just envision her saying 'yes'," I told myself. Then I stood and began to approach her. As I drew near, however, another girl in missionary garb came and sat next to her. Thats when I noticed the nametag pinned to her blouse. Her cardigan had been covering it before, but now it was plain as day.LIFE LESSON NO. 1: Never flirt with a pretty girl in a knee-length skirt unless you're SURE she doesnt have a black nametag.
Missionaries in the MTC are experiencing a nine-week Babylon detox. So, while most of the time they are utterly committed to the task at hand, sometimes they lose focus and try to get their "fix." And since their teachers are the only people in their lives who are allowed to visit the world beyond the walls of the MTC, we are the ones the elders look to.Usually, its pretty harmless stuff: football scores, election updates, etc. But in their weaker moments, they will ask about my love life. Whether or not they have a girlfriend at home, they all seem to want to live vicariously through their teachers. When I first began teaching, I decided that telling them the name of the girl I was currently pursuing would be worth putting to rest their constant pestering. "Her name is Heather," I told them one day. "She is an American lit. major and I like her. Happy? Now lets get back to work."And we did get back to work — for about four minutes. Then they started with the questions. What does she look like? Do you have a picture? Have you met her family? When are you going to propose? It didnt matter how much or how little I told them: their curiosity was unquenchable. And, of course, there was the teasing. I vividly remember one day when my district was teaching the second lesson in a role play:"Through the Plan of Salvation, we can be with our families forever, like Hermano Coppins and Heather, his soon-to-be bride." The elder speaking then turned to me and said, "Hermano, can you tell us a little about how it feels to know that you will soon be entering the temple of the Lord with the love of your life?"When it came time for that district to write teacher evaluations before they left, they filled the "Suggestions for Improvement" section with ideas on how to ask Heather to marry me. Surprisingly, my boss didnt find it very amusing.LIFE LESSON NO. 2: Never tell a group of romance-starved 19-year-old-boys about your love life. It will haunt you forever.
Last semester, I taught every Saturday until 9:30 p.m., which effectively ruled out any plans for the night. Usually after work, I would walk home, make myself some dinner and read a book.As I climbed the stairs from my districts basement classroom one particular evening, I began to have one of those uninvited moments of self-reflection. I thought about how my life was going, and I started to feel sorry for myself. Its not that things were bad, per se. I was doing well enough in my classes and I was enjoying time spent with family and friends. But I was still fairly fresh off the mission, and the transition to normal civilian life had been somewhat disheartening. I found myself entertaining the thought, "If I could just go back to the mission, everything would be so much easier."By the time I exited the building, I was in full out Eeyore mode. But something was different tonight. There was a group of about 100 missionaries gathered outside one of the other buildings. Several of them were holding cameras and tape recorders in the air to document what was about to happen. One missionary stood on top of a table and had to shout in order to be heard."OK everyone," the elder said. "First verse in English, second verse in your mission language! One, two, THREE!"Then the multitude erupted into a lively rendition of "Called to Serve." They sang it as only missionaries can — with enthusiasm, commitment and hopeful anticipation. At that moment, as I stood with a few other teachers observing the spectacle, I wanted nothing more than to join them.But I didnt join them. I stayed where I belonged. And when the singing was done and the crowd dispersed, I walked home, made myself some dinner and read a book.LIFE LESSON NO. 3: Sometimes, you just have to move on.