As I sit down to write this blog post, I’m inundated with thoughts and honestly not quite sure where those thoughts are going to lead. But what I’ve found in the little bit of writing I’ve done over the years is that sometimes those posts are the most authentic and relatable because they’re real. So here goes.
Facebook, as it so kindly does, pops up with all these memories from years past. That unfortunate Halloween costume where I dressed up like a Hershey Kiss. Or that safely distant bison selfie we snapped while on our amazing trip to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. Some drudge up memories I’d prefer to forget. Others tug at the heartstrings. But lately, Facebook has been showing me some memories that are conjuring up a whole new set of feelings. My beginning-of-the-year classroom snapshots.
Every year about this time, I’m in my classroom excitedly working away, getting everything ready to go. I snap the typical shots of my empty classroom, knowing that soon it will be filled with a whole new group of kiddos; and that usually, it’s the last time it looks that nice and clean! The walls are newly decorated with brightly colored posters donning the latest motivational phrase or song lyric. The desks are shiny and clean, with a crisp new name tag carefully placed at the top. The books on my library shelves are organized and ready to be borrowed. But this year, there will be no classroom photos for me and it’s a very bittersweet feeling.
As some of you may know, I am a type 1 Diabetic which places me in the ”high risk” category if I were to contract the Coronavirus. Therefore, my district has allowed me to take on one of the roles as a facilitator for our Virtual Learning option. Currently, we’re set to go back on September 8th in person. Like most districts in the area, ours provided students with an opportunity for virtual learning if they would prefer. So that is what I will be doing. And I have to say that I’m very conflicted about it. I am so beyond grateful that I work in a district that values my health concerns and has given me the option to take a position that is safe for me and my family. But man, am I going to miss those kids! This was the year I was going to start 2 new grade levels and new content. I was going to get to loop with some of the kids I had as 6th graders, a class that I absolutely adored! And now all that has changed. It’s easy to wallow and feel anxious or sad about the situation we’re all in. And as stressed as I get about it all sometimes, the only thing I can do is to take a deep breath and be grateful.
Grateful that I’m in a district that cares about its students, staff, and families and is working tirelessly to make the best decisions possible in an impossible situation.
Grateful that I have supportive, loving coworkers that lift each other up no matter what the
circumstance.
Grateful that I will still have a chance to make a positive impact on these kids’ lives, even if it is through a computer screen.
Virtual teaching is tough. Being in the classroom right now is tough. Nothing about this job is ever easy, and to throw a global pandemic in the mix…forget it! But we will make it work. We always do. That’s what teachers do best. In any situation that is thrown at us, we rise above. So no matter what your year will look like, whether it be virtual, in person, or a crazy combination of the two, I hope you rise above. Rise above the fear and anxiety. Rise above the negativity and doubt. Rise above the uncertainty. Because we’re all in this together. And those kids need you!
