First, it was so stupid good to be back in a school with kids. I miss watching them learn in person. Those lightbulb moments just feel different behind a computer screen. I missed the feel of cinderblock and tiny chairs. I missed clipping on my nametag and signing in. I missed watching teachers I taught teach when I am actually in the same room. That all felt so very, very right. I was back home.
But right after I snapped this picture I put on my mask. On the way in they checked my temperature. I watched my former student teach her heart out. She was masterful. She kept those tiny humans engaged and learning for the two hours I was there. She also reminded them six million times that their masks had slipped, that we can't share our pencils, that we can't hug our sad friend right now. I watched her disinfect the same thing a million times and help kids sing while they washed their hands--again. She is working so hard to teach and keep kids safe in a pandemic, and as I watched all I could think was "it's not if, it's when." Through no fault of hers! Littles are not meant to go to school this way; it's too much of an ask.
What broke my heart most was the response on social media when I posted. Teachers knew exactly what I meant. They are so tired and worried and frightened. Some that have been back for a while talk about the acceptance that everyone will get it; they just hope for a mild case. And when it's not? People who aren't teachers just want to be back, and I do get that, but at what cost?
At this point, I won't be back in schools until January, and even that I'm not banking on given the rising numbers. I will spend a lot of the day trying to sort myself out, and like every teacher I know, when the kids need me I'll be right back in that building.
If you are reading this and you know a teacher, please check on them. We are not okay.
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