Something Lost and Something Gained

I've been preparing myself all summer for CDL (Comprehensive Distance Learning). I took classes, set up a work space, got my head in the game, and adopted a fairly resilient/flexible attitude. I worked through August with my school team on schedules and other mechanics, and had a lengthy time to process the changes in what was out in front of me. That served me well during our two weeks of PD, because I'd already let go of teaching as I know it. Planning is different, execution is different, routines are different. Some of that was hard to let go of (it's the 23rd year of this gig, after all!), but I sent those expectations packing.

I was nervous yesterday, as I always am on the first day. There were technological challenges, to be sure, but all in all, the day went fine. I mean, I don't want to downplay the technological challenges, because I felt like I'd run a marathon by 9:15! But the kids were patient, and nothing super strange happened. My online plans were good, and we did some fun activities, but...

I sobbed when we hung up. And I sobbed in the shower. And sobbed when I went to bed.

On a normal first day of school, by the time you get to recess, the newness is done. I know their names, we've already had lots of laughs and sharing, probably a noise reteach 😂, and we're a class. I love that moment when they walk back in after first recess because it feels good, it feels normal. The nerves are gone, and it's go time. It feels like we've always been together.  That feeling never happened yesterday. 

Half my girls put my name in as their Zoom name on accident, so while I can change that, it's taking a wee bit longer to sort our their actual names. Some kids have bright windows behind them, or spotty Internet, and I just can't see their faces clearly. I think I know which names go with which faces, but I'm not 100% sure. 😬 And then there is the silence. This is possibly the hardest part for me. It is so dang quiet. They are all rock stars and mute themselves until they speak, and that's going swimmingly, but the deafening silence is almost too much to take. A 5th grade classroom is never quiet. Even during the quietest times, there is a pencil tap, someone blowing their noise, whispering, page turning, or the voices from next door. And laughter. I miss the laughter. 

And so yesterday, I mourned all of this. I mourned every part of it, and couldn't believe I had to do it again today.  Plus, the amount of COVID cases this week in Clatsop County make going back seem less real than it did last week. 

But then...exit slips. I looked at a few exit slips yesterday, and mostly panicked about the spelling, but today I really looked. And cried a little more, because...kids. 💗 Kids are amazing, and resilient. 

My first thought was (terribly): "You don't know if I'm awesome yet!"  😳 Honestly, how could they possibly feel that way after only six hours? And six hours like THIS. And after that terrible thought, I'm completely humbled that perhaps they do like me, and do have a positive sense of their class. How, I don't know.  Like I said, kids are awesome. And they are the ONLY reason I'm in this gig. 

💜💜 Press on, my friends! 

#bewater

It's been a week! Many of you are in the same shoes that I am in. Actually yours have a bit more tread on them than mine. Here in Oregon, we've only finished day three of staff inservice. I know many students in WA had first days of school this week, and across the nation, many more students have been in school for weeks. We get to go last in Oregon.  Even going last, getting tips and tricks from friends, it's daunting.

You know what we're doing, friends? We're overhauling a system that has been in place since the beginning of time. I mean, when has education pivoted like this? Maybe from the one room school house to large buildings?  Thankfully I'm not old enough to comment on that. ;)  This week I have marveled at what we are doing. We often talk about building the airplane while we're flying it, but I don't think we really understood what that meant until now. There aren't blueprints for this that are more than 12 weeks old. There isn't a tried and true method, or schedule. That excites me. It also terrifies me. The room for error is huge. But I think the space for success is actually a bit larger. 

One of my colleagues is having to pivot this year from being a PE teacher to a 5th grade teacher. Yep, you heard that right. He is an amazing PE teacher. He's creative, challenging, and kids love him. He's looking to model a growth mindset for his students this year. Me? I'm looking for a season of redemption. The spring was H-A-R-D. When asked what about the spring I'm proud of, I come up with almost nothing. Possibly my resilience. I kept trying. I kept going. I reinvented myself even when it didn't seem to matter.   

This fall is different. Thanks to a wildly off-track construction project, we have been given the gift of time. Time to put systems in place, to build teams, to ACTUALLY collaborate. Is it going smoothly? Parts are, yes! Is it hard? Definitely.  In my close circle of teacher friends, there have been tears, anger, and frustration. And thankfully, a good bit of laughter. 

While perusing Instagram this evening I came across the convocation remarks of Dr Percy Abram, Head of School at my alma mater, The Bush School.  The first day of school is always convocation, when the entire school (K-12) gathers for the beginning of the year kick off, with a few inspiring speeches. Teachers, think back to school breakfast...Sort of. 😉 This year, of course, this was done virtually, and the closing part of his speech was on Instagram. The theme for the year was water, which caught my attention. 

Here are the end of his remarks:

Like water, we changed with and because of our surroundings to become more loving, more grateful, more generous, more open, more aware, and then more active. We've learned lessons about ourselves, our failings, our prejudices, and resolve.

When You See Water 

By Alice Walker

When you see water in a stream
you say: oh, this is stream
water;
When you see water in the river
you say: oh, this is water
of the river;
When you see ocean
water
you say: This is the ocean's
water!
But actually water is always
only itself
and does not belong
to any of these containers
though it creates them.
And so it is with you.

 Like water, you have the power to create the containers you will live in.

I have an affinity for water. If you've been around long enough, you will remember the marathon bathing of my youth. Sadly I do not remember my record. 6 hours? I feel like that may be a weird piece of information to share... ;) Currently, my happy place is the ocean. I am the third Cannon Beach exit, but I consistently drive through town, so I can catch a glimpse of the southern beach as I go around the curves after midtown. The thing I love about the ocean is it is wild and free. I won't swim in this ocean, because its power is daunting.  But I will marvel at it. I will stick my toes in it, and I will wash away a weird week in it. The thing about the ocean is that no matter what the day holds, whether there were successes or impossibilities, the tide comes in, and it goes back out. You can count on that consistency. 

So, whether you are a student, or teacher, or parent,  #bewater this year. Be wild and free. Be consistent. Create your own containers, don't let the current landscape create them for you. We got this. 💖