The last few nights I’ve been having dreams about two things...tap dancing: something I love, and a former job: something I loathe. Each morning I wake up and lay in bed thinking about what it could all mean. I am one of those people who believes that dreams are trying to tell me something, so I try to listen when they seem to be repeating themselves. As I sit here on the last day of 2020, the year that wasn’t, I honestly believe that my subconscious is really just trying to remind me to have some perspective. Maybe that’s what I take away from the year that has been called a dumpster fire - one of the nicest things people say about it. Perspective.
2020 began for me with a brand new job. A job that I had been waiting for, and one that has been a complete blessing for me - and I hate using that word. I hadn’t realized how much I had been affected by my former job until it was behind me. I mean, I knew it was hard, and I knew that I had some secondary trauma as a result of the work I was doing, but what I didn’t realize was how much I needed leadership in my professional life that was equitable. What I didn’t realize was how much I needed to be trusted to do my job without someone trying to hold my hand or telling me later that I’d done it the wrong way. That stuff will really mess you up and take away your confidence. This year has been a shitshow for education, and that is putting it lightly, but I honestly believe I would have left the field of education all together without the job change that happened in January. And while it has not been a walk in the park by any stretch of the imagination, I am so thankful for the team of people I work for and with, who always, always put children first. Who always trust that teachers are doing what is best for children, and who always put equity on the forefront of anything they do. For this I am hopeful.
I was not quite 3 months into my new job when we began to hear about a virus in China. My children were the first to talk about it with me. I remember thinking, “that is crazy, and thank GOODNESS it’s in China and won’t be affecting us.” HA. The week before spring break, it became clear that this virus was going to affect this country and I watched on as people made decisions about what to do next. For me, it meant packing a little bag of my work things and heading home, thinking we’d have a few extra days or a week added on to spring break. From that day until now, I’ve been back to my office three times. I now have a desk in my living room and stupid boundaries around when I work here. I’m working on that. The kids went to a completely remote model of school to finish out their 7th and 9th grade years. It was weird to say the least. What we didn’t know in March was that we’d still be remote in January of 2021 without any real idea if either of them will see the inside of a classroom in their 8th and 10th grade years. Zoe began 8th grade at a new school, Lincoln Middle, and that has been a good experience, but also I am continually reminded that they have never met any of their teachers or classmates in person. What a world.
I’ve always been in the camp that believes that school isn’t a brick building with four walls. Rather, school is where you make it. Children should be learning all the time - when they are at home helping us cook, when they are outside exploring their neighborhood or just walking the dog. There is a huge part of me that is loving watching education change for our children. I feel very fortunate that our school district has erred on the side of caution since the beginning of this pandemic. We don’t have children or teachers in classrooms, which has taken some pressure off of everyone to feel safe, and has allowed teachers to rethink what education should look like and what should be important. I hear almost daily that children will be behind when we come back into classrooms. Socially and emotionally, yes, I will agree with that. Especially for the little ones I work with - we are going to have a lot of work to do when it comes to giving social experiences to children in new and distanced ways. But otherwise? I hope that this pandemic will make people realize that the ways in which we measure intelligence in children in our schools is outdated and is irrelevant. For years, we have set a bar for children based on what adults think is important. More importantly, what WHITE adults think is important. I hope that this time in education will force us to rethink what we value in learning, and how we go about teaching those things. I am hopeful for the first time in a long time that some of these things will change for our children.
We survived the most tumultuous year in politics and in social justice that I’ve ever knowingly experienced in my lifetime. From this incredibly flawed election, to the murders of George Floyd, Brianna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery, this year has made me angry to the point of tears more than any other year I can recall. It’s also made me hopeful because for the first time ever, it feels like change is coming. It feels like white people are starting to understand our place in the systems that are so broken. It feels like people are coming together in ways I’ve never experienced to say we are done with people being murdered for the color of their skin. We are done with law enforcement systems that were created to enforce racism and Jim Crow laws that we say no longer exist, but certainly do. We are done with prisons disproportionately full of Black men who don’t deserve to be there. And I would like to say we are done with politics led by old rich white men, but this very week has told us otherwise and we still have so much work to be done here. I am hopeful that a new wave of politicians are ready to do the hard work of dismantling the systems that no longer serve anyone. It’s going to be long, painful work, but I am hopeful.
I’m going to write a few sentences about mental health during this pandemic. Please know I could write an entire book about it. I’m not saying anything here that anyone will find shocking. This year has challenged my mental health more than any other year in the last decade. And remember: also in the last decade I had two toddlers, finished my masters degree, and went through a divorce and started my life over again. Please let that sit with you for a moment. I think the biggest difference is that during the toddler time, the school work, and the divorce, I had the physical support of an incredible group of friends. To hug me, to lift me up with nights out, and small gatherings on weekend nights with my children while they played and the adults talked. Being in the company of other people during those times gave me the strength to get shit done. A night out with my girlfriends gave me opportunities to work through things and to watch my friends’ faces as they considered the things I was saying and sharing. A gathering of our families meant that I watched my children laugh and play and put on dance shows or skits. I saw the joy on their faces as they interacted with their friends. Sitting with my friends during the darkest times of my divorce when I literally thought I might lose my home or my children gave me the strength to just know I was not alone. Those things were taken away from us during this year. I still talk with my girlfriends and we text, and we’ve had exactly two gatherings in person, distanced on a patio. That’s right, since March of last year, I’ve seen my best friends in person only a handful of times. And it SUCKS. Please don’t get me wrong. I have an amazing partner in Gregg, but no one in a partnership is meant to be someone’s ONLY person. And that’s what he’s been for me for much of this time. We have spent more time together this year than we have in the last five, and somehow we are still together. Somehow, I think we still make each other happy, and somehow we haven’t stopped laughing together. Perspective.
I can’t leave out that there has also been a lot of joy this year. Being at home with my children all the time has given me new opportunities I wouldn’t have had otherwise to know them. We have cooked together, painted rooms, cleared decades worth of trash in my basement to create a new hangout area for them. We’ve watched movies, played games, attempted home haircuts, and learned a LOT about each other in the process. I wouldn’t trade this time for anything in that regard. My kids are 13 and 15 and will soon be out in this big world finding their own ways. This extra time that we’ve had has been something I will never take for granted. It helps that I truly like my girls. They are smart and funny. They are creative and curious. They are MESSY and frustrating at times, and we are a good team, the three of us. This has been the easiest part of quarantining...having them with me. Also, Gregg and I have explored nearly the entire state of Missouri and part of Kansas on the little road trips that we’ve taken just to get out of the house. We pick a direction most weekends when we don’t have kids and we just go. At first I just needed to see something besides the four walls of my living room. But then the seasons changed from spring to summer, and then the changing leaves of fall. We drove and we talked and we listened to music, and we watched the world change around us from the safety of our car. We don’t stop and explore the little towns like we used to do, but just getting away from home has been a highlight of this year. Perspective.
This year has been incredibly difficult for so many people. My stories here pale compared to dear friends who have lost beloved family members to this horrific virus. My stories don’t come close to what so many of my friends have experienced working on the front lines. My stories can’t compare with the myriad friends I have who work in the service industry or who have lost their livelihoods because of the way our federal government has handled this pandemic. I can’t even begin to imagine those experiences, and I am so grateful to my friends and family who put their lives on the line each and every day. It’s not what they signed up to do - no one goes through medical school thinking they’ll one day work during a global pandemic that might kill them. But they are still doing it, and we all owe an incredible debt of gratitude for that. Perspective.
Just last week, the girls’ dad and his wife had a medical scare with her youngest child. It’s not my story to tell, but in these last days of 2020 it has put things into perspective for me in a way I never considered. The child will be fine, thank goodness, and that is the most important piece of the story, but in the days where they weren’t sure what was going to happen, it forced me to think about the health of my own children. It forced me to think about the relationship that Steve and his wife and I have, which can be difficult or strained most days. It has made me think about how so much of those things go out the window when someone’s health is on the line. How in this little bubble of our two families, we have to set aside some of the other things we struggle with when things get challenging. It’s not some miraculous happy ending, it’s just good perspective for all of us right now. It’s good perspective to end 2020. Some things are bigger than you. Some things are bigger than this mess we are in. We all have almost zero control, in the end, over the things that challenge us from day to day. We are very small in the grand scheme of things. And? We have survived this much during this terrible year. I am not sad to usher 2020 out tonight, but I also am not fooled into thinking that tomorrow will change everything. I am, however, confident when I say that this terrible year has given me the perspective to keep going. Into whatever 2021 brings my way.
