A Most Precious Commodity

Excuse me while I come up for air...whew! Swimming at the Stress Pool these days has been grueling. I can barely stay awake through the evenings anymore - and the evenings have been just as busy as the days!

Not being a social media guru, there are things that I just don't get - how do these people set up algorithms? Key words, I suppose, that if you happen to click on something, you will become bombarded with things you never would have looked for, let alone wanted to read. But, like any other 'seasoned' person, curiosity forces me to do just that. Something I think is interesting is what my fellow colleagues (by that I mean in the broader sense of the education community, not necessarily coworkers I see daily) are saying about their careers, and the comments others are making. It may be surprising to you how many are leaving the profession - one in our building, for example. The comments from veteran teachers surprises me, though. They don't seem to understand the reasoning. They don't understand phrases like 'in the trenches'.  I'd like to clarify this for you, from my perspective.

We sent children home in March of 2020 with computers and told them to 'log in'. There had been no training for any of us, although some of the younger set were way more savvy then the older set! If the kids did any of the work, we pretty much accepted what they did, no matter the quality. After all THERE WAS A PANDEMIC! When we returned to 'in person' learning in September of last year, many didn't come back - their families were much more comfortable keeping their children home. Not just because of the pandemic, mind you, but because it was less stressful on the children, who would be well-rested for their evening activities. (That was in a small number, but none-the-less, it happened). Many came back for the hybrid model, where they came in two days a week. In January, they all came back, except for about 25% of the population, who still opted for learning from home. So, you had twenty students in front of you, and at least five on-line, and you had to attend to everyone all at the same time. Then, there was collecting the work from those at home - several of whom were not interested in turning in work. It was a mess, but we all made it through.

Fast forward to this past September. You are now looking at children who might not have stepped into a classroom for a year and a half. Add to that the third of a year students lose during the summer months, and you've now got kids who are two years behind, some socially, some mentally, some educationally. Now, add in the mask thing - there are educators and families on both sides of the fence. Then, there are the calls from the office: "Who sits next to this student?" Contact tracing. We might have seventy kids quarantining at home. We still have to post things for them for what we're doing - and usually, they come back saying they never looked at art, which means reteaching to them, and carrying along the rest of the class. The days are long.

None of us were trained or prepared for what the pandemic brought, and just like recovering from grief, everything we face is a 'new normal', and sometimes even an extra challenge. Some younger, less-experienced teachers are having difficulty adapting to the stresses and nuances; seasoned veterans are usually able to sit back, assess, and figure out how to survive. You simply have to realize your role in the grand scheme and kick out what isn't necessary.

That brings me to the title of this post: precious commodity. It's different for everyone. Yours, I'm sure, is different from mine, which is time. I learned that lesson hard when Eggbert died. I would never have time with him again, and I couldn't retrieve it. All the times I didn't take off - we have a strong work ethic at our house - but now, I don't hesitate as much if time is needed with one of my kids, or DH. If I have an evening activity, but a family or friend's birthday or event conflicts, family or friend comes first. We recently had a Camp Rolling Hills reunion - we're all getting older, you know - and that went on my calendar first thing. It is important to me to keep those fellow staff members close, to relive the 'glory days' that helped shape the people we became. I treasure those friends and acquaintances, and can listen to the stories over and over. It would be nice to get together with them more often, but we're pretty scattered across the country.

So, how am I surviving my chosen profession? Better, since I did something this week. I circled a future date in my planner, with the thought that would be a great day to retire. That has now become a goal, and a plan is set in motion, listing what I need to do in order to make that day happen. If it has to change, so be it, but at least I know I can do this for a while longer. I love working with the kids, seeing what creative ideas they come up with - but I'm tired, like all the rest of my colleagues. We put in at least 110% during the school day. Evenings and weekends, however, are mine, because that's time I'll never get back. Family and friends are important. Time with them, making art, making music, reading - and someday, traveling - this is what I am made of, what makes me the person I am, and what revitalizes me to go back to work on Monday morning. I hope that if any of my younger colleagues are reading this, they will also find a way to survive, or find something else they can do that they are passionate about.

Next time you're in the neighborhood, stop by the Stress Pool - or, once we're in the new house (one more month!) come and enjoy some time by the fire, and we'll spend some precious time together, talking about some ways we've spent our time. Until then, stay well, and enjoy your free time!