Parenthood: Week 386 – Uncertainty

Every single day as a parent has a level of unpredictability. Every single day has unique challenges, and every single day if you pay attention, and look carefully, has wonderful moments of love and promise.

We create systems of routines, knowing that at some point that these schedules and rituals will change, but we do it anyways. What’s the point of creating a structure that you know is not going to last? Because without these structures, as fleeting as they may be, there is not the security, predictability, and routines that bring us comfort, which is essential to growth, and finding meaning in life.

The push and pull between creating structure, and embrace predictability is a tricky thing to understand and accept as a parent. It’s challenging as parents to deal with the expected within a house, but with the unpredictability of the world, parenthood has become a complete different of challenge.

For months, parents in America have wondered about the most basic assumption parents have made for generations: what will school be like this fall? Parents have wondered when family traditions could resume, and parents have struggled to figure out how to contextualize a world that doesn’t make sense for children who the seeks the comfort of knowledge that can only come from parents’ words.

There are times that we can be honest, and tell our children that we are scared, confused, and that there are bad people out there. However, there are times that we need to inspire hope, and optimism. In these times of darkness, we can’t always pace out these talks in ways that we are ready, or in way that make sense. The world moves faster than we are ready, and sometimes children see things we are not ready for them to see. The most important questions for us to answer are often the hardest ones to answer.

I look at my wonderful children. I want to tell them everything will be alright, that the good guys will win, and that everyone is doing the best they can to make this world better, as they should be doing themselves. I know I can’t, but I wish that these words were true.

The one thing that I can count on in my life, the one thing I can tell my children unequivocally that will never change is that they are loved, and always will be loved. The chaos of the world, does not have to live within their hearts, and in the quiet moments, in the darkness, they can close their eyes knowing that the light of love will always be with them.

I should be able to give them more certainty. We should be able to do so much more for our children. As we struggle through this year, maybe the hugs and “I love you’s” will be enough. Maybe we will find in this time that our love can sustain our children also transform our world.

Year 11 – Week -1: The Next Right Thing

I've seen dark before,
but not like this
This is cold,
this is empty, this is numb

There have been tough moments in my teaching career. I’ve been fired. I have been told things by other teachers that have hurt deeply, and I have felt the deep and profound failure of letting students down. I’ve been told by people that I’m overpaid, that I don’t have a real job, and how to do my job as if their opinion with no knowledge of education is more valid than mine.  Right now, I feel the challenge of being an educator in America in a complete different way. This is different.

You are lost, hope is gone
But you must go on

We are working with no clear sense of the future. We don’t know when schools that opened remote will be in person.  Schools across America who tried to start in person as closing at a rapid pace. The arc of the school year is hazey. There is no savior, no one who can answer all our questions, and tell us what is right. There is no hope for an education for our children that fully provides our children what they need and deserve this school year. Time goes on, and we are trying.  Failure is real possibility for the best of schools, and teachers.  For me, quitting isn't an option.

I don't know anymore what is true
I can't find my direction, I'm all alone

I’ve always felt like that I know how to handle situations. One of the things I’m most proud of as a department chair is that I have been able to explain things, and work to allow my teachers to focus on their teaching. This year, I’ve had to accept that this year that I need to say “I don’t know,” or “I can’t help you with that.” Everything is new, uncharted and filled with uncertainty. Even though there are over three million teachers in America, we struggle more often solitude, as distance and stress pull us apart from each other.

How to rise from the floor?
But it's not you I'm rising for
Just do the next right thing

Take a step, step again
It is all that I can to do
The next right thing

The right thing to do is to focus more on ourselves than our students.  Teachers have to care for themselves so that we can persevere through this school year, and be around to rebuild better an education system in the coming years. The only way to do this is to focus on one thing at a time, and one choice at a time.  However it’s so hard to know what is the right thing when so often what is right feels wrong. It’s right for many schools to start remote, but it feels horrible knowing what is lost because of this decision.

I won't look too far ahead
It's too much for me to take
But break it down to this next breath, this next step
This next choice is one that I can make

We don’t know the future. All we know for sure is that uncertainty will persist. The full tragedy of this pandemic is too much to comprehend. What are students will have lost this school year will have effects on our society for decades. So, we have to focus, feel the air in our bodies, and make choices as we can.

When it's clear that everything will never be the same again
Then I'll make the choice to hear that voice
And do the next right thing

If we try to replicate what we had in the past, somehow preserve something for some envisioned future when things can get back to “normal" it will hider our steps forward. We cannot do what we did last year. After everything that has been lost this school year, and everyone that we will lose, nothing in our schools will ever be the same. There will point of mourning knowing that we can’t return to “normal,” but these feelings will evolve and change as we imagine greater, and build back better for ourselves as teachers and our students.

Let go of what was.  Let it go.  Let the future be created as move through this school year, one step at a time, and one breathe at a time and do "the next right thing."

Parenthood: Week 385 – Fear As Love

I was freaking out, I couldn’t find her, anywhere. 

I rushed around our condo checking every room again and again. It was only a one bedroom with a den, so I had no idea how I couldn’t find her. The condo was not that big but neither was Buffy.

This was back in before we had children about a month after we this little puppy.  I was getting comfortable with her in the house so I stared letting her around outside her pen some of the time. She wasn’t fully house-trained but she was making great progress. While she did have accidents every so often, I had gotten into the groove of schedule which allowed me to predict when she needed to go out, and we were having a lot of success.

I was home for that summer break, so it would just me be and Buffy while Diana was at work. We would go up and down that condo elevator, many, many times a day. She wasn’t quite walking well on a leash at this point, so I’d let her explore different areas around our block and then just pick her up and carry her home when it was time to go home. Yes, we spent time teaching her how to walk on the leash, but sometimes it was just easier, and a whole lot cuter to carry her.

We had just gotten back from a walk, and I was sure she didn’t need to go, so I figured that she could wander around the condo while I made some lunch. As I sat down to eat, I called, “here, Buffy.” I looked around and didn’t see her walk up which wasn’t a huge surprise. Buffy wasn’t great at the come command (and she still isn’t). That’s when I started looking for her.

I was panicking. Even though I knew I had brought her into the condo, I checked the hallway and even the trash chute. I could not figure out where she was in the condo. I went from the laundry room, closet, kitchen, living room, den, bedroom, and finally to the bathroom, and she was nowhere to be seen. 

 I looked everywhere.

I felt for the first time in my life this fear. It was combined with helplessness, a vision of loss in my future. Standing there in the condo, I was also struck the feeling that I had really let down Diana. Then I turned around and saw one more door, the door to our walk-in closet. I had looked in there before, but I had a feeling that it was worth checking one more time.

I opened the door, and didn’t see Buffy anywhere. I got on my knees and pushed my hand into corners of the closet which were covered by low-hanging clothing. In the corner, covered by the bottom of the dress shirts I felt the puppy fuzz of Buffy and I pulled her out and looked at her. She yawned in my face and gazed at me wondering why I was so upset. I put her down and she walked away like nothing had happened.

I’ve felt that fear again.

I felt it when I lost track of Ollie in a play space, and for what was likely a minute but felt like a lot longer. I felt it when I throttled myself down the stairs ahead of Ethan’s body as he fell down the stairs to catch him. I felt it last week when Lucas somehow managed to climb up the doggy stairs to the couch and almost fell off the couch. And I felt it when I saw a dog attack Buffy.

It’s a fear that can only come from the idea of a loss being so devastating, it hurts to imagine. It’s a fear that comes from having the responsibility for another person’s life, and it’s a fear that is an expression of loving someone completely, with all of your being.

It’s a feature of parenthood, a reminder to be careful and not take for granted the ones that we love.

Year 11– Week -2: We Can't Fix This

“We can’t fix this.” 

These four words came to me after a two-hour remote union meeting. This realization was deflating, depressing, and demoralizing. As I whispered these words to myself, I came to truly understand the reality, and depth of the educational crisis in our country.

No one can “fix” the crisis in American education right now. While issues of systemic racism, classism, and other systems of oppression in education are exacerbating the current crisis, the pandemic itself is not the fault of schools. Teachers aren’t responsible for the lack of a federal plan, clear and unified messaging, and the deaths of far too many Americans. trump and his enablers are at fault. Their incompetence and destructive actions have destroyed any possibility that schools this year can provide an education that is anything but a shadow of what students experienced last school year.

Administrators and teachers are trying create safe in-school teaching environments. However, most cannot. This isn’t a question of will or hard work. It’s just simply not possible for most schools. There’s not enough money, not enough planning time, not enough teachers, and not enough time. These things are can’t appear out of nowhere. Even if the money appeared, it wouldn’t make supplies, and more importantly, qualified teachers materialize. The problems are too big, and the roadblocks are insurmountable for most schools to safety have students attend school in person.

The schools that are opening remote can’t provide students with what they get with in-person instruction. The technology isn’t good enough. More teachers have gotten training than last spring, but many will be winging it, and struggling to make online teaching work while students wait. At home instruction for most communities is the best option, but it’s not a great option. Distance learning can’t fully replace teaching in person. It is better than nothing, but it’s not what our children deserve.

Teachers in America have a tradition of picking up the slack when others have failed children. It takes sacrifice as teachers like those pay for students’ snacks out of their own pocket, and work long hours they are not compensated for to advocate for a student’s basic needs. There a difference between giving more for students, and trying to do the impossible.

We could have had in-person education this school year that is safe. It was a possibility last Spring, but it is an impossibility for most schools right now. As we struggle through this school year, don’t forget who to blame, and what our children are losing. The horrible effects of trump and his enablers on the education of students this year will be felt for generations. Even though it is bad now, it will get much worse if trump and the Republicans who enable him continue to hold office.

Vote them out, all of them. 

Our children’s future depends on it.

Parenthood: Week 384 - The Perfect Beach Day?

Parenthood makes you give up on the idea of a perfect day, and teaches you to understand and appreciate perfect moments. 

Every single day since Ollie was born seven years ago, there have been hard moments and challenges. Every single day brings unexpected events, and every day requires me to push through a little bit more. Like a muscle that you exercise, you get used to this way of living, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Because the wonderful thing, and the really hard thing about parenthood is that the challenges are constantly changing. As soon as you figure out how to give your child a bottle, they are learning to eat with utensils. Mastery in parenthood is fleeting because with every passing day, you child grows older, and needs you to grow as well.

What adds up to a “perfect moment” has things that are very much imperfect. Last weekend we went to the beach. It was wonderful to play in the sand with my sons, connect with nature, and allow the sense of time and rush of schedules to leave my mind.

To make this moment happened took an incredible amount effort to pack and prepare to get out of the house to get TO the beach. There was breakfast to be prepared and served, beach toys to pack, the diaper bag to check and the beach bag. We had to makes sure to have stuff like sunscreen, the right stroller. Of course, the boys need help with swimsuits. This stuff doesn’t seem that hard to do, but we had three kids who were requiring our attention at the same time as we were packing. Yes, they are great children, but they need to be asked more than once to put on their shoes and get dressed.

At the beach, at some point Ollie threw sand which was an small issue. I may the tragic mis-pack of not having two of each snack types. So, Ethan was sad at one point because I cheese puff for Ollie and not him, even though I had plenty of alternatives. There were points when Lucas was fussy. He didn’t like it when he would take a handful of sand and stick it in his mouth, but he also didn’t like it when I would try to prevent this from happening.

My goodness, getting sandy children home with all of our sandy stuff into our van and back into our house without leaving a trail of sand and piles of sand in the car and in our house is exhausting. When we got home, we had to shower the kids, feed them lunch, unpack the car, shake sand out of everything, and do laundry. I don’t remember specifically but there probably was a meltdown at some point in this process.

The time at the beach was one of my favorite moments, I’ll say even a perfect moment of this summer, but it took a lot out of us to make it happen.

As a parent you have to work, prepare and stress in order to relax and have fun with your children. And sometimes, all the hard work, doesn’t play out into a perfect moment. Every single outing with children has issues when they are young, and often these issues don’t ruin the day, but sometimes they do. It’s exhausting. In my life with a baby, two-year-old, and seven-year-old, a perfect outing simply does not exist. That’s okay.

It’s worth it to try, because my children are worth the effort. Even when things don’t pan out, I do feel proud at the end of the day that I did try, and that I was there with them and for them.

Year 11 – Week -3: How The Unions Are Fighting For Our Lives

At my school it’s called the “association.” In other places it’s called “the federation,” but most people know it as the “union.”

I have been a proud member of a teacher’s union ever since I started teaching, except for the one year when I was an assistant teacher (there isn’t a union for this group of educators). I never hesitated to join, I’ve always felt that my dues went to good use, and I able to be a better educator knowing that I have the support of my union. The backbone of American education are the teacher unions. The strong the union, the better the school. And yes, there are some teacher unions that are weak, and protect bad teachers. So, what? I love it when people use this argument to get rid of unions. We have mediocrity in every part of our culture, and we forgive it all of the time. Banks have exploited people over and over and led to the massive economic destruction. We still have banks.

Unions are why we have the work day, paid holidays, health care, and safe working conditions. The work of unions has directly affected the quality of life that so many American enjoys. Teacher unions are why children are in reasonable class sizes, enjoy adequate funding, and have effective teacher evaluation that lead better teaching. Yes, unions spend as much time, and sometimes more time advocating for quality of education for students as much as their paycheck.

Right now, unions are fighting to save the lives of students, staff members, teachers, and the families of all of these people. In some cities, it was the union which put their foot down and forced schools to close last March. Unions have been relentless over this summer advocating for our children’s education when too many Americans did nothing to stop the spread of Covid-19. In the past month, the coordination between the local, state and federal teacher associations to fight for the safety of schools has been remarkable. Unions have accomplished incredible things in the past month, and there is so much more work to be done.

There are massive failures in leadership right now. So many people don’t want to make hard decisions so they are waiting for someone else to so they don’t have to be the bad guy. Shutting down a state is a lot easier when you can point to your neighboring state shutting down first. You see this same cowardliness in college football, and it’s happening with school leadership as well. trump would rather say nothing, then make a hard decision. He would rather let people die then make an unpopular decision.

People are desperately searching for leadership, and I’ve seen it. It’s there in the teachers, the locals, the state organizations and the National Educational Association, and the American Federation of Teachers. This leadership has already saved lives, and it will save more lives in the coming months. 

Nelson Mandela said that, "There can be no keener revelation of a society's soul than the way in which it treats its children."  If you look at how our federal government and many state and local governments are treating children, it's clear that children are not a priority.  And the way teacher's unions have fought for children shows that they may be the heroes that save our country.  

If believe in our children, our teachers, and if we truly prioritize our most precious resources, we will have hope for a better tomorrow.  Right now the unions are showing us the way. 

Parenthood: Week 383 - The Time WIth Lucas

I have spent more time with Lucas, my third son, during his first year of life, then I did for my first two sons. 

Ollie was born in May, which means that my paternity leave was used a little bit at the end of the year and mostly the next fall. This meant that including summer break, I had about four and half months (add together my leave and summer break) in that first year when I was home with him. Ethan, my second son, was born in October, which made my leave go into Thanksgiving Break, which was really nice. The timing was different but I still got four and a half months of time to spend with my second precious one.

Lucas was born in December, which meant I had a really long winter break, and then Covid-19 closed my school on March 13th. When I was home during March, April, and June, I was not fully on paternity leave. I was working, but I was working from home. If you take out my commute, which at its worst can be two hours total on one day, and being able to do work at different times of the day (e.g. late at night). In some ways it felt like I was on leave. Instead of having four and half months when I was home, seeing him every day, waking up to his smile, and being able to be present, I will have had about seven and half months at home with him.

This has been wonderful. I have seen more of his growth, had more time to cuddle him, and more time to bond with him during this special time in his life. Even though this time was fraught with stress, and there were two other boys who required my attention, I got the one thing I wish I had more of with my other sons during their first year, time.

No positive experience, no unintended benefit, and no amount of time with Lucas made the bad part of the pandemic “worth it.” This isn’t a glass half empty/half full thing. This is an acknowledgement of something great that happened in a time of great trauma and tragedy. We can and should do this to know and feel the blessings in our lives without using the good to justify the bad, or to bring meaning to tragedy.

There have been many wonderful things that happened in my family’s life during this pandemic. We watched all of the Star Wars movies together, we’ve shared many wonderful meals. All of the boys have made great accomplishments, and I feel closer to Diana than I have ever felt in my entire life.

This is one of the challenges of this time that we live in. How do we feel all of these things? I regularly feel deep sadness, and anger. I cried yesterday while watching a man describe his husband who recently died from Covid-19. trump refuses to take a break from doing awful things, which engenders great anger from me.

Every I day I feel great joy playing with Lucas’ curls in his hair. I look forward to Ethan’s incredible silliness every day, and I experience incredible pride watching Ollie explore the world. Because of all that is happening in the world, all of the pain and the trauma, I need to make sure to feel these positive things deeper. I need to make something of my time, and in the joy I am bringing love to my children.

I don’t know what kind of world my sons will inherit, but I hope that that I can empower them to create a world of love for other, like they have experienced at home.

Year 11 – Week -4: How I Feel About 2020

I’ve never felt this way about the upcoming school year before.

My entire life, from when I started preschool, every year, my life has been structured by the cycle of the school year. I went straight from high school to college, then to graduate school, and right into working at a school. The arc of the school year is my life. And every summer, I’ve had different feelings about the upcoming school year.

There were feelings of doubt, fear, and excitement transition from middle school to high school, and high school to college. There were moments of excitement from junior year to senior year of college. There were times of doubt after I was fired from my first teaching job and didn’t have a gig lined up for the next year in mid-August. And there have been many years of excitement and anticipation in the past eleven years at my current looking forwards to working with the amazing colleagues at my school, and getting the privilege to teach my wonderful students.

This year is completely different.

Since I’ve become a teacher, my job has never been discussed so widely and by so many different people, many of whom have no idea what they are talking about. People are acknowledging hard truths about education in America which feels validating, but is also frustrating. Yes, schools are inequitable, like they have always been in our country. Yes, our schools are underfunded, and yes, our society have laid far too much on teachers to solve as they work underpaid, underappreciated, and undervalued.

People are also continuing to devalue, denigrate, and disparage teachers, and teaching as profession. We are trained experts on child development and education. Assertions that we can be replaced by anything but other highly trained teachers are insulting. Allocations of testing and support to professional athletes over teachers is dehumanizing. And politicians ignoring this issue for months, displays how much disregard people like trump and devos, and other leaders have for human life.

Schools are trying to figure out what to do. Pressure to open because of “economics” is ridiculous, and displays an idiotic understanding of schools, AND the economy. Unresolved tensions between administrators and teachers have forced unions to continue to fight for the safety of students and teachers. And even the best administrators find themselves at odds with parents, students, and teachers because of the rampant misinformation, and a vacuum of leadership have left our country in a crisis of knowledge, compassion, and cooperation.

This has all left me feeling tired, scared, worried, angry, and most of all sad. We are in the middle chapter of the trilogy, the sad one where it seems like all hope is lost. There is no federal plan coming to save us. No influx of funds into schools is going to make education work for all next year. Even $100 billion would be far too little, too late.

This is year that teachers have to get through, that we have to survive, so that we can be around in the following years to rebuild. If that means that teachers take a year off, because it is what is best for their family, and the risk is too great for them to teach, that is the right choice.

No teacher death is acceptable, and yet, teachers have died from Covid-19, and we as a society have accepted that as we push forward into the next school year. 

I'm not sure how people who are leading teachers into danger sleep at night, because I'm beginning to lose sleep. 

Parenthood: Week 382 - The Choice During Covid-19

There are a lot of things that you learn about our culture when you become a parent. People are obsessed with the gender of your child. It’s the first question people ask about your child, and the vast majority of baby products are gendered. Men have to meet far lower expectations to be considered a great parent. Some people consider a man a great parent simply because he does laundry and spend time with his children. Isn’t’ this the bare minimum. And we as a culture, and country do not prioritize the health, safety, and education of children.

If we prioritized children, women would have easy access to safe, clean, and sanitary places to nurse their children, and pump breast milk. If we prioritized children, we would provide financial assistance for parents of children who are younger than school age, who are in need and NOT require that they work and put their children in daycare. If we prioritized children in America, schools would have enough funding to provide anti-racist, quality, equitable education without having to do fund-raisers. Teachers would receive a wage that reflects their expertise and their responsibility, which is roughly twice what teachers make right now.

If all of this was not clear enough evidence that we do not prioritize children in America, look at what is happening right now as people try to figure out how to handle education this fall.

As a parent it is beyond aggravating that the problem of how to handle education this fall was ignored by many people in power for months. People in education, knew last spring that we would be in this situation that we are right now. I had discussions back in May with administrators and teachers about  hybrid learning, distance learning, in-person instruction, spacing of desks, pods, temperature checks, funding, inequities and social-emotional issues. All of the concerns people have right now, and arguing about were present in minds of teachers and administrators last spring. So many people in power chose to do nothing to address these issues, because they prioritized so much over the children of America, and right now we are paying the price for this.

What are we supposed to do as parents? We have to make difficult decisions with not enough information, far too little support, while rolling the dice with our children’s education, health and the well-being of educators and their families. A couple things to keep in mind…

Listen to the experts. Trust doctors over random Facebook posts. Trust educators over people who have never worked in a school before, and do not give any credence to anything trump or devos says about schools.

Do what is best for your family. You know your children, and your family situation better than anyone else. What works for your friends or neighbors, may not work for you.  Consider  is what is best for your children educationally and what is best for your family’s needs.

Be kind. Save that email that is critical of a teacher for the next morning to make sure it’s written in a polite and supportive tone. Do not express negative judgments on the educational choices people in your life make. You likely do not know all that they are dealing with in their lives. Most of all, be kind to yourself. The best you can do right now may not feel like enough, and the choice you make for your child’s education probably will not feel completely “right.” That’s okay.  Take a breath, hug your child, and trust yourself.  The fact that this is hard decision is a sign that you care deeply for your child and are a great parent.  The most important person that you show love to right now is yourself.  So be nice to yourself, you deserve it.