mary van milligen

Traditionally, I would have had several back to school anxiety dreams of not finding my supplies or classroom or walking into a classroom where I have 80+students without desks or finding the building where I work completely renovated and everyone looking like a character from Mad Men. 

None have arrived.

My brain has no vacancies for the imaginary and recently it’s occupied with the unfamiliarity of this new reality and the challenges we, as teachers, face this school year.

The yin and yang of my emotions happen weekly.  I fill my cup to the rim with optimism one day, and on alternating days, my doubt suspends me from climbing upward; consequently, I rappel back to my original footing . In the past, we all sporadically relied on a variety of options to help us cope when days became a tad stressful–like working out, baking, or music.  In this new way of life, it appears the need for incorporating a 5k, taking a moment to feel a calm, summer breeze caress your face as you pedal your bike, adding copious amounts of dark chocolate chips to the brownies you’re preparing, and getting lost and transcending in the beauty of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5 occur all in one day and often.

It’s not the first time that life, like revered poet and humanitarian Maya Angelou explained, “slammed me down, made me call it Uncle.” No single person in this world is immune to struggle and hardship. We all must relinquish control during different facets of our lives and endure the inescapable and recently increased piercing pains of grief.  Yet, it’s time for us to fully demonstrate resilience to sort through the dark clouds in order to find the sun.

 Professionally, I yearn to find the balance of my own social, emotional teaching teeter-totter. So, where did I go to find some of the brightest lights?  My former students. I asked them the following question:

“Everyone’s focusing on the changes.  Think about the time you were in my classroom; what do you think will not change even though I’ll be teaching remotely for a little while?”

They reignited me with their comments.  Here are a few of them…

“Your ability to engage students through story.”

“You’ll always be able to inject humor and creativity in your lessons.”

“Your passion for what you talk about.”

“You teach people how to think not what to think and that is huge.”

“The way you take the time to get to know your students as individuals and not as a group of people.”

“First off, I wanted to say that your class really did help me to understand the tapestry of my life.  In learning, no matter the location, the thing that is most constant is the idea of desire.”

“You always made me feel like I mattered.”

 Throughout all of the statements received, the essence of the former student feedback mentioned the content we shared and highlighted the humanness of the course.  They reflected on the feeling of being seen, heard, and encouraged to think critically. All of these components will still exist via laptop.

We can do this. 

We have to do this.  

Teachers are heroes, shape-shifters, possibility makers.

Realistically, our efforts will naturally come with some initial flaws.  Within the first, few weeks we can build bricks of confidence, but the best mortar is temporarily out of stock.  We’re going to be vulnerable, and at different points, the wall that was meticulously planned will potentially fall.  

And that’s okay.

We’ll grab a newer wheelbarrow and fill it up with more sustainable materials.  We’ll be honest and reflective shuffling through which techniques worked the last time and plans we’ll need to change. Like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, we’ll restore, reconstruct, and stabilize. We’ll embrace error to heighten innovation and creativity and rely on the one phrase I’m sure most of us have used within our careers -“We’ll figure it out”.

And, we always do.