The Familiar is Gone

The poem above was a gift from one of my amazing students the year before last. It's been hanging in my home since then. Yesterday, as I was contemplating what I've been hearing and reading about my profession, it begged my attention. I'm pretty sure that moment happened as I watched a press conference about moving toward in person instruction that was being held virtually.
You see, I've been slowly and reluctantly moving toward sending in my retirement letter. This wonderful child's words helped me see why, in part, that has been so very difficult.
I'm not really ready to stop teaching. I love what I do and, as I read this, I realized a large part of my hesitancy is that I don't want that spark to diminish. The fact that she noticed and reflected it back to me is/was such a gift. It warmed my heart in so many ways. And she knew that. That's the beauty of teaching from the heart. The connections, the time shared, the lives touched - including your own.
Reading this also helped me see that there are other ways that I can connect. I have boxes and boxes of my second book that need a home. My spark is in them, too. And, I think my own radiance will find other ways to shine through. I'm going to have to trust in that.
I wrote the following words yesterday as a Facebook post and am including them here because they have resonated with many people in my beloved profession. My heart is with them and all teachers who are faced with decisions being made right now that deeply affect their well being.

I keep hearing about how well the state of Maine is doing (which is wonderful) and how we must stay the course, so to speak. How important it is that we are using masks, maintaining distance. How there are wildfires burning in so many other states and how those fires can infiltrate our state within a matter of days. At the same time I, a veteran teacher, hear about how important it is that we get back to in person instruction. That part of that will be a need to check the metrics every so often. 'So often' being undefined at this point. And then I wonder these things:

Do the people making the decisions about in person teaching realize how many teachers are out here wondering how in the world that can even be being considered - because of those wildfires? Teachers who care and would love to be with kids, but, really... with the fires???

Do they know how incredibly stressful teaching had become - before COVID-19? I say that as a fact, not a complaint. I actually love finding ways to help and connect with amazing beings I work with each year. But things have changed a lot... and now...

Have the policy makers really stopped to think about the implications of layering the stress of the many uncertainties that COVID-19 brings on top of the aforementioned stressors?

Are they fully aware that everyone in education - students, teachers, and absolutely everyone else - suffered varied levels of trauma last spring? That some of us have dealt with our trauma, while others have not had the time or the support or the chance?

Do they understand that for some of us the last time we were touched by another human being might have been a hug from a student as the day ended on Friday, March 13th?

That we've been maintaining physical distance since then?

And now you want us to be immersed in people? With wildfires burning all around?

Can you really imagine being in say, a fourth grade classroom, with any number of students who may have fearfully ridden a bus to school and then will be meeting someone who is behind a mask and can't come near them? Though teachers will do all we can to make students feel welcome and safe - how can that truly happen with those wildfires a part of our lives right now? I value truth with my students - from me to them and from them to me. How can I truly make them feel safe when no one really knows if it will be?

How is it that we are in the middle of July and we have no clear direction? I know there are lots of unknowns, but seriously why do we keep hearing such mixed messages...

We're doing great.

It's still dangerous.

Keep your distance, stay home.

We'll keep meeting virtually, but we need you to be in school ASAP.

Why haven't we looked at other alternatives like being outdoors, talking about what really did work during remote teaching, how we could connect with our new students in a staggered schedule outside to get to know each other at a distance and then go remote until we know what really is the truth about safety?

Why are we constantly inundated with the message that schools need to OPEN when we really didn't close? I know that I was more wide open than I have ever been. Once I felt safe at home, after the week or so of knowing that change was coming, something bad was happening - I, like so many teachers, opened up to brand new ways of doing the job I thought I already knew how to do, but had to reinvent. I didn't miss a beat. Well, maybe one or two. But it didn't take long to get creative and dive into making things work. I just don't know how I could make in person work just now. And I (again like most teachers I know) am pretty darn good at making things work. But.. the fires are burning and probably will be for some time.

The familiar is gone. It cannot, will not be the way it was. Why is that truth being overlooked?

Why?