“I teach students, not science”: Trevor MacDuff’s mission starts in the classroom
This article was written as part of an assignment for BIBL 2293: Work of God, Work of Humanity at Northwest University.
Trevor’s MacDuff’s life covers so many disciplines that it’s difficult to predict where he might be at any one time. I first met him at Bethel Church in Pasco, WA, where our families have attended together for the past two years. Over the summer, we spent a week as co-cabin leaders at Camp Twinlow in Northern Idaho, where our conversations broached a variety of topics — family and adoption, the direction of the American church, and our experiences living in the Tri-Cities (formed by the trio of Richland, Kennewick, and Pasco, nestled along the Columbia River in southeastern Washington). We spoke about his various roles in the community, from his career teaching science at an alternative school, to his non-profit work — a board member of a restoration ministry for women called Grace Kitchen and his own organization, SILAS (STEM Instruction, Leadership, Arts, and Stewardship) — to his project building a model of the Solar System around the Tri-Cities, to his twelve children and how they have impacted his faith.
His location during our most recent chat stands out from the others. We arranged for our conversation to happen virtually while he was in Houston for a conference, where he happened to have an hour and a half in between hearing a lecture from Dr. Andy Aldrin, the son of astronaut Buzz Aldrin, and getting dinner with a group of teachers and Fred Haise, one of the Apollo 13 astronauts who eventually walked on the moon. When I later mentioned to him how ludicrous it was to be sandwiched between two extraordinary individuals, he chuckled and launched into thoughts about Dr. Aldrin’s lecture.
For a man who seemingly has a lot on his plate, he contains no shortage of words about his work. I explained the details of my project to him: how, in my class entitled “Work of God, Work of Humanity”, we are exploring calling and vocation, with particular focus on how our nature as humans requires that we work, not just for survival, but for a sense of fulfillment and meaning in our lives. In addition, we consistently ask the question “how is our faith relevant to our work?” He seemed to relate to this on a personal level. “Whether you’re making tents or boiling water for a nuclear reactor, or plumbing…or a high school science teacher,” he remarked, “listening to Jesus’ voice is the hard part.”
Growing up in a Christian family, Trevor has always known what it means to know Jesus, but following Jesus is a more difficult task. Shortly after graduating from Whitworth University, he and his wife, Jessica, moved to Venezuela as missionary teachers for a year. Even then, Trevor says that he didn’t really let God direct his life. At 31, he gave up that control he had so long held onto and surrendered his life ambition to Jesus. Since then, he has let his job be directed wherever God takes him. He has worked at several schools in the Tri-Cities, including middle schools, home partnership programs, and alternative high schools. He taught science at all of these until this school year, when he transitioned into a new role working as a career services advisor. His day-to-day work consists of helping high school kids build resumes, find jobs, and improve their job skills. While this position is new, he sees the goal as the same in his old position teaching science.
What is the goal? How does Trevor view his work considering his faith? I asked him how he viewed his work in accordance with his calling in the world. He immediately brought up the concept of imago dei — that humans are made in the image of God, giving them not only inherent dignity and worth, but the ability to have relationships with each other and have a life of meaning and purpose. The imago dei is foundational to how he understands his role in building the Kingdom of God while working in a public high school. This was astonishing to me because that concept has been central to the class this project is for. “I think about these kids and how, if they never know the love of Jesus, this is the best they’ll ever have it,” he lamented. “That’s horrible, and I want to love them so much that they can’t help but ask what’s going on.” He sees his work as primarily guided towards the wellbeing of his students — not the subject he’s teaching. He noted that many teachers, particularly STEM teachers, do so out of a love of their subject. “I teach students, not science,” he quipped. After decades in the STEM field, his new role in career services doesn’t change his mission; it just changes the vehicle that he uses to reach out to broken teenagers.
Trevor doesn’t preach to kids. He uses the term “Jehovah Sneaky” to describe how he works his faith into classroom — he does it by setting the example and imploring kids to see their own worth. In the career services role, he interacts with many students who are looking to get their first job; often, they’re doing so because their family needs the money. Many teenagers in that situation would take the easiest available opportunity, probably in retail or fast food. Trevor likes to push them to think bigger. He points out that raking leaves and mowing lawns earns more per hour than minimum wage. It’s messier and harder, and you probably work up more of a sweat than an air-conditioned Dollar Tree. But Trevor likes to see kids make value out of their work on their own terms; it encourages them to think of their work as more important than what McDonald’s is willing to pay them. As a public-school teacher, one must imagine Trevor does something similar. His awards and grant could open a range of opportunities for him, many of which probably pay better than Richland School District. Yet he has remained in the humble Tri-Cities, investing in the community and raising his family alongside his wife.
Trevor’s motivation to speak through his actions also comes from a sense of duty to his employer. He mentioned Colossians 3:22, which implores servants to obey their masters. “I’m not a servant,” he acknowledged, “but I signed a contract…from seven in the morning till three [in the afternoon], my time is purchased.” While others might say that their faith calls them to share Christ verbally, Trevor told me his calling is to faithfully perform his duties to the highest degree as he agreed. If his job is to teach science, then he will faithfully teach science; if his job is mentor students in their careers, he will do all he can to help them achieve their goals. Verbal preaching isn’t part of that responsibility, so he chooses to abstain. This is an intriguing application of faith to work because many other Christian teachers would rather be fired for talking about Christ, but Trevor’s viewpoint is that his fiduciary responsibility to his employer is a crucial part of his witness.
There are so many other things one could say about Trevor’s commitment to his field. Between his non-profit work with SILAS and Grace Kitchen, his work at the Koinonia Institute developing small group resources and curriculum, his involvement with STEM projects across the Tri-Cities such as the Solar System model, serving at church as a youth leader, and the small task of raising 12 children, his busyness can’t be understated. The motivation and purpose for his work comes from the basic ideal that the people he works for are deserving of his efforts: “The Kingdom of God is made up of people,” he told me. “Ultimately, we, humans, are the prize.”
