A Pandemic Letter to my Colleagues

How we doin', Fort Thomas? 

We're coming up on a year of teaching through a pandemic, and the journey has been the greatest test of our careers. We can compare most years to a marathon: a race to the finish, that we're prepared for, and can find ourselves looking up and enjoying the downhills and the crowds. 

Photo by Artem Verbo on Unsplash

This year is more like one of those ultra triathlons, and at times, you might feel like you're swimming through shark infested waters, barely coming up for breath. And, remarkably, when I look around at what is happening in the world, I know you are in the lead. You have found strength inside of yourselves you might not know existed and have treaded through impossible waters to reach kids.

Disillusionment to Rejuvenation

In a traditional year, according to the book Mentoring Matters, February and March are a time for "rejuvenation". We've spent some long months in disillusionment, and we're cruising downhill on our year, and feeling anticipation for what is at the end. We start planning for the future, planning fun things for our students after testing, and looking forward to a break in the action.

This year, in particular, it may be difficult to tap into that feeling of rejuvenation, and we may feel that our resilience is being tested. I don't have the answers for getting out of the feeling of disillusionment, and I wish there was a magic recipe for success In the book Onward by Elena Aguilar, she points to the idea of cultivating resilience though learning, playing and creating. Playing and creating have always been a big part of the way I deal with stress. I tap into my primary "Love Language" through "Acts of Service", and I also dig into new learning. For me, learning through play and creating is a huge deal. I bought a Cricut and made a bunch of tshirts for my sisters and nieces, I make a pot of tea (an art form I have been learning about) and I throw myself into a maker project, or I take on a new academic focus, or I cook a giant pot of soup and drop off containers to people I know can use a little lift. It helps me climb out of the rut.

This winter, to fuel my need to learn and grow, I decided to take part in the "Winter Explorations and Connections" NextGen series. The explorations are a series of conversations facilitated by Tom Welch, and have been one of those things that my education "tuning fork" needed to get back into a bias towards action.

Embracing The Fire

Photo by Josh Berendes on Unsplash

In our first conversation, Tom shared an analogy, in which he compared the pandemic to a prairie fire. For centuries, prairie fires, were used to encourage the growth of tender grasses that bison preferred. The fires also contributed to a nutrient dense soil for successful farming and naturally kept the prairies from turning into forest. These fires, now done in a controlled way, contribute to the diversity of the ecosystem, burning away old growth and making room for new.

Through our discussion last week, Tom asked us to consider how the prairie fire is like the pandemic in education. What if we could treat the pandemic like an opportunity to burn away practices that are no longer useful to us and cultivate a richer learning community? What would that look like?

I am often drawn to fire imagery and the archetypal concept of regrowth through fire, so this discussion has really stuck with me. 

I keep wondering: "What if we are so worried about stamping out the fire, that we are missing the opportunity to grow?"

Photo by Alexandru Tudorache on Unsplash

I wonder what we need, in this moment, to be able to pause and look around and recognize that we are on the downhill part of our year? How might we get through the shark infested water and step out onto a land that has survived a burn and is fertile for new planting? How might we embrace the fire that is this pandemic and come out on the other side stronger?

We survived the Fall, and we are making it through the Winter and are on the cusp of Spring. How might we prepare our classroom landscapes for new opportunities through reflection? What, in our control, do we want to leave behind so that we can move forward?

It might not feel that way right now, but we are surrounded by the opportunities and the right people to get things done. Land is in sight, the fire is doing its work to create an earth ripe for new growth, the nature around us is preparing the way for when we're ready for the changes we need. 

You've got this.

I'm here when you need me, Fort Thomas. 

- Heidi