We had a much-needed quiet weekend. Issa finished her driver's ed. The boys spent time at the dojo. We rested.
We were quiet, and I'm very much still in that place. I'm gutted by the Supreme Court decision on Friday. Very rarely do I feel helpless, but I did on Friday. I'm still searching for the words and the next right thing, but please don't take my silence for complacency. I've just learned in my 42 years that sometimes it's best to not say the first things that come to mind.
I'm headed to the ocean on Saturday, and I don't think I've ever needed it more than I do right now. Hearing the waves and feeling so very small always brings much-needed perspective and clarity. After the last two months, I'm looking forward to the space to process and be.
The past 24 hours have held some major milestones for our girl.
She is officially enrolled in her first Durham Tech class. She bought her first college textbook, and she logged on to the learning management system. I was ready to help, but the college counselor had done a great job with orientation and Issa flew through the process. It is so cool to watch her take that next step in her education, but it is bitter sweet to just be a spectator.
Brad dropped her off for her first set of driving hours this morning. We were all nervous! Issa was worried about driving on an actual road, and Brad and I were nervous to be sending her out in a car with someone we didn't know. When the instructor walked up, he was wearing a Northern High School shirt. Coach Spell and I worked together, and he is a great man and an even better driver's ed instructor. All of her hours will be with either Coach Spell or Coach Rodeo, another great man I used to to teach with. I'm a little worried about the stories they might tell, but I'm so, so glad that her time behind the wheel will be with those two men.
Yesterday, though, was the big day! The boys still went to the dojo in the morning since Brad is testing for his black belt in just a few weeks. That gave Issa and I time to run to Mom's house to grab the gifts we had stashed there:
We went straight from brunch to the high school parking lot:
When we got home Brad and Issa ran to the store to stock the mini fridge, and we spent the rest of the day just relaxing together. Brad did build his bonsai:
Last night, I finally got to go back to adult ballet! I missed it when I was teaching Monday nights this semester.
The really fun thing is Issa and two of her friends are joining the class this summer! They are using it to warm up before their pointe lessons. It is so fun to take a class with them.
In so many ways, the barre will always be home for me, and I love being there with my girl.
I taught the last content session of my three-week intensive this morning. They will be in the field for the next two days, and I will have plenty of grading coming in. But this morning was the last time we will all be together.
This course is brutal for all involved. By the last week I am willing people across the finish line. I loved teaching this group, but we will all be glad when this one is behind us.
After I wrapped the course and launched them on their way, two of them stayed behind. Both wanted me to know that my class was challenging--the hardest they had ever taken. That I made them think really intently about questions that don't have absolute answers. Both loved the class.
See. That's why I do what I do--why all good teachers do it. We make students do what they think they can't. We set the bar impossibly high and then cheer when they clear it. We make them hate us and love us at the same time. That moment at the end of the class...that moment makes everything else worth it.
Sunday, we went into Durham to see the Nasher Art Museum, and these three recreated a part of the film Issa and her team made here last fall:
Yesterday was a weird one in which Brad and I did not work but the kids did. I took Evan to meet the dogs he is dog sitting for a couple weeks this summer, and Issa spent the entire day at her new nannying job!
This is Issa's last week of school, and Evan is down to the last 8 days! We are going to make it!
I've been struggling for three days to find words. Another school shooting. Two teachers killed protecting their kiddos. 19 kiddos.
I've written about this in the past--unfortunately. Every teacher you know has a plan. We know how we will block the door--probably in multiple ways. We know exactly where the site lines are from the door. We have thought about how we will blockade our students. We know our fight or flight point. We know the plans the protocols the codes. We also know we will 100% put ourselves between a bullet and our students. That doesn't mean we aren't scared as hell this week. Jumpy. Having hard conversations with our families.
I've talked my kids through it. Reminding them that their teachers have plans. That I believe they are safe at school. And I've cried every morning after drop off.
For the first time, I've cried every morning in the parking lot at work. I'm teaching an intro class right now. We've spent the first part of class talking this through. What are school procedures. Why they aren't posted and why schools don't respond to idiots on social media spouting inaccurate information about their plans. We've talked about how they have to be the centered adult in the room, and I've modeled that even though I haven't felt that way at my core. I sent them into schools today knowing they are a little more nervous than usual. I am, too.
I have always been and will always be a teacher. But I'm tired. I'm tired of the load we carry. I'm tired of the blame we take for things that we have no control over. I'm tired of the shouting about us and at us. I'm tired, and I'm not alone.
When you hear people complaining that their kiddo's classroom has a long-term sub because there just aren't any teachers, this is why. It's not because we don't love kids. It's not because we don't love teaching. The $37,000 starting salary is insulting but unfortunately we know what we signed up for. It's this. We have born the burden of picking up the pieces of a pandemic while being told it's our fault the kids are struggling. We have been asked to cram more instruction into kids who have desperate social, emotional, and behavioral needs. We have not been given the resources or staff we need to do the work. And to top it off we just watched two of our colleagues die, and we know it could have been us. And nothing will change.
If you have read this far, I'm begging you to do something. Thoughts and prayers alone aren't going to fix this. I believe we need tighter gun control laws and better mental health care services. I've written my representatives to ask for both. I would love for you to do the same. If you know and love a teacher, know they are not okay--even if they say they are. Give us a little grace. And for the love of all that is good and holy, don't debate with us right now. Until you have been in that classroom the day after a shooting, until you have been responsible for 30 children who you know have families that love them more than life itself, until you have felt that weight, don't give us your advice or tell us what should happen. You can't know, and we don't have the energy to help you understand right now.
This however:
We did manage to get some not awful family pictures:
Saturday I was back on campus at 7am to set up for graduation one:
Yesterday was my Mother's Day, and my family spoiled me. I never left the bed room! All three meals--and snacks!--were delivered to bed. They got new cat toys to entice my felines to spend the day with me:
