However, most of this post is from my wife, Michelle. She is the one in the pictures with me on the about Ryan page. She has been a teacher virtually all of her adult life. She is preparing to go back to her job as an SLP at an elementary school in a few weeks. What you will see is her raw emotions in dealing with all of the stress going back into school entails. And for those of you who think that it's no big deal for teachers, you don't have a clue. Having gone through school DOES NOT give you any understanding of what it is like to be a teacher. Spending an hour to "help out" during your child's birthday party does not mean you "know what it's like." Unless you have been or are a teacher, you don't have a flipping clue. Read Dan Lortie on the subject if you want some enlightenment.
And now, a few words (or more than a few) from my wife, Michelle.
Teacher, Go Back
I am frustrated.
I am sad.
I am scared.
And hurt.
And Angry.
I am one of the hundreds of thousands of teachers across this country being forced to go back to school in the next few weeks.
We are being told many things.
“Suck it up.”
“No one is going to die.”
“Kids don’t get sick.”
“You’re a frontline worker, get used to it”
But we don’t know if those statements are true.
I know most of us will “Suck it up.”
We acknowledge we are frontline workers and we ARE used to that.
We do not have accept your callous cruelty, your casual disregard.
Ours is a profession of relational interactions. School teachers and staff members rarely have quick, transactional relationships with the children in our care for seven plus hours a day.
We carry our kids home with us.
They reside in our heart, in our psyche, in our mind.
We carry them in our overflowing emotional luggage.
They live in our homes with our husbands, our wives, our children.
They are part of who we are.
We don’t have the privilege of a fifteen-minute office visit, then out of mind for the next six months or year.
This year all sense of normalcy is gone, thrown out the window with the bathwater. With the science.
Masks.
Social Distance.
Stay in your classroom. Seat. Box.
Wash your hands. No hugging. Sit down.
Trauma.
Fear.
Anxiety.
Frustration.
Anger.
Sadness.
Trauma. For both child and adult.
But, does that matter?
Apparently not.
The economy matters.
The science does not.
The nature of science is to lag behind.
That’s why we don’t know.
We don’t know if the children will get sick.
We don’t know if they will be highly efficient carriers.
What do we do?
What do we do when that class of innocent kindergarteners comes face to face with the fact that their beloved teacher is gone? Never to return.
What do we do when the 5th graders learn their classmate is gone? Never to return.
“No one is going to die.”
Until someone does.
Maybe not your someone.
But someone’s.
Someone’s heart.
Someone’s son, daughter, sister, brother, mother, father.
Someone’s light.
Kids do get sick. They get sick. They die.
We can go back to school.
But it doesn’t have to be today, or next week, or a month from now.
We can go back with appropriate protections for teachers, staff, and children.
We can go back in a non-traditional manner.
We can go back and minimize the trauma.
The fear.
The anger.
The sadness.
We can go back respecting the fears of the teachers.
Acknowledging their fears.
Answering their questions.
Instead of just shouting.
Instead of diminishing.
Instead of saying, “Suck it up.”
“No one dies.”
“The kids don’t get sick.”
“You’re a frontline worker. Get used to it.”
Let us go back to school with kindness.
With compassion.
Decency.
And understanding.
And empathy.
We can go back to school.
We will go back to school.