1. I left my classroom in tears yesterday, turning out the light on my weekly vocabulary, student folders and 'notes for tomorrow', knowing my tomorrows are going to be drastically different for at least four weeks.
2. I am completely frustrated by the fact that the very kids who need me to reassure them, will not be in my space for way too long.
3. I hate that we have to stay away from school.
4. I am sad.
With all that being stated, I will also say that I completely understand why things have to be the way they are. I keep bringing myself back to the reality which tells me that separating us from those situations that will allow this pest to fester is imperative and unavoidable. I get it. I agree with it. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.
So I'm sitting here trying to understand all the feelings inside of me this morning. I gave myself last night off from thinking about it, knowing that today I would attempt to tackle the emotions that are all confused in my heart in order to move forward in this new and temporary normal. The realist that knows what I stated in the paragraph above, is pragmatic and can accept we need to do what we need to do. But the part of me that is absurdly enamored with my students and my work is finding that embracing all this time away from them, even though it means more time with my own beautiful children, is extremely troubled. As I look outside on this beautiful morning, I think of all the time I will miss, time that I feel I am entitled to spend with the students on my roster this year. Entitled...yes, that's the right word. They are mine and I am theirs and this is not how we are meant to share our journey. Or is it???
OK, so maybe I am getting to something here. What is the lesson in all of this for all of us? Because as someone who is not prone to believing in coincidences, I must find a way to understand that this is the
very journey these students and I were intended to share. Hmmm...so what of it, then? Perhaps the ability I have, is that of teaching them that even something like this can't get in the way of my dedication to them. Over the past two weeks, there were four Professional Development opportunities I was supposed to deliver that were canceled. Anyone who knows me and the ridiculous planner that I am, knows I have all the materials for each of them stocked up in my PD bags. Perhaps I can use these to keep my students feeling my love for them even in our necessary absence from each other. "Letters for a Year of Gratitude" and "You're Awesome" pop-open cards are where I will start. Love notes to my students will be in the mail before the day's end. Thank you! I feel a bit better already!
Look, I'm not going to lie. I look out the window at this beautiful day and I start to tear up because I think of how much my students love to go outside to throw the football, something I know they don't do on their own time. I look at the textbooks and novels we share and the heaviness in my heart overwhelms me as I consider that, without the gift of our physical presence to each other, my students will struggle to find meaning in the virtual lessons planned for them. I look at my own children who will get to (be forced to) go hiking, to the beach, to the park, anything outside, while my students might not get to do much more than stare blankly at a screen. My heart hurts. But it is my journey with them. And after this reflection, I know that I intend to infiltrate their isolation and let them know that Ms. Macc. is still here for them, still learning with them, and still looking forward to what our journey has to offer.
