Dear Students, Parents, and Teachers

To the students...
When I remember myself as a student - in elementary, middle, high school - I cannot imagine going through anything like what you've been through since March 13th...  Having your normalcy ripped out from underneath you, life as you know it completely disappearing right in front of your eyes.  These years are supposed to be some of the best of your lives, and I imagine it feels so unfair - I imagine you feel robbed of whatever school year was taken from you.  I've thought about the students who think of school as their safe place, and I've lost sleep thinking about you in the middle of so many nights.  I can't imagine your fears, the uncertainties you've faced, how brave you've been.  I hope you know there are so many teachers like me out here who have kept you in our hearts while dying to have you back in our classrooms and back in our arms. I've thought about the kindergartners and how this was your first experience of "real" school, of the upper-elementary kids who were spending time as leaders for the first time in your lives.  I've thought about the middle school kids and how that time in your life is so confusing and emotional and hard anyway, and how much that must have been exacerbated when the already confusing and emotional and hard life was flipped upside down.  I've thought about the high-schoolers, especially the seniors - some of my favorite times of my life happened at Dutch Fork High School, and it has literally ached my heart to think of you not experiencing all I was able to experience during those years.  I am so in awe and proud of you.  I'm not sure I could've ever done what you have during this weird, school-at-home, socially-distanced, quarantine time.  I'm not sure I could've been as brave as you, as resilient as you, as self-disciplined as you.  I don't know what it's like to have lived through this time as a student, but I do know that I have lived enough life to tell you assuredly that these experiences WILL make you better.  One day, you will look back at this time and accept the experience as a time that challenged you in so many good ways, as a time that allowed you to grow and be brave and adapt and learn so much about yourself.  So be proud of yourself, and know there are so many grown-ups out here who are so incredibly proud of you, too.

To the parents...
We're doing it.  What started as a couple weeks, turned into a couple months, and here we are - surviving and thriving.  And if I've learned anything over the past few months, it's that surviving IS GOOD ENOUGH.  Parenting is hard.  Add in kids who are home 24/7, no reprieve, trying to work, trying to teach, trying to cook, clean, do laundry, breathe, pee, sleep, discipline -- and I'm not sure we'll ever look at parenthood the same again.  If you're anything like me, these past few months have absolutely kicked your butt.  I have never been as exhausted and stretched thin as I've been since March 13th.  I have cried, I have lost my temper, I have taken nine hundred and eighty seven deep breaths, I've ordered lots of time-outs, I've eaten too much food, I've allowed too much screen time.  I've doubted myself over and over and over again.  But.  Our kids are healthy, and they are happy, and they have learned something - even if they've learned nothing academic.  Our kids have learned that we can adjust and adapt when life takes an unexpected turn.  Our kids have learned that we work so hard - something they always knew we did, but never saw us do it.  Our kids have learned that we are not perfect, that we have our limits, that we, too, can and need to apologize.  We will look back on this time and wonder how in the world we survived, but what matters is that WE ARE DOING IT.  Maybe barely, maybe we're hanging on by a thread... but we're doing it.  Your kids are going to remember this time fondly, because they will remember seeing us more than they ever have before, they'll remember that they were allowed extra screen time and extra snacks and extra treats (because we needed them to JUST LEAVE US ALONE DURING OUR ZOOM MEETING).  They'll remember so much pizza, so much time in their very own yard, so many pajama days.  Don't be so hard on yourself.  The truth is, we're being harder on ourselves than our own children will ever be on us.  So let's just keep surviving, and let's keep giving each other permission to start happy hour around 4:00pm.  Deal?

To the teachers,
What a ride it's been.  A little over two months ago we put our students on the buses and into cars with hugs and high-fives and SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS!  At that moment it felt surreal that we were even shutting down for two weeks... I never would've believed those moments would be our last school-day-end goodbyes.  I don't know about y'all, but I wasn't finished.  March, man... March is when the magic really starts to happen in my classroom.  I get them, they get me.  They understand that when I start teaching in different accents, it's because they're not paying attention.  They anticipate my awkward dance moves, my chants and songs, my standing on stools to emphasize my point.  And those kiddos... gosh those kiddos... March is when they really start to fall into who they are as third graders.  They allow themselves to become vulnerable, to struggle, to grow, to be brave.  And the magic was cut short.  Right as we hit our stride, together, we were taken away from one another.  Our see-you-laters transformed into digital lessons, Screencastify videos, Google Meets, Zoom meetings, slideshows, talking students through lessons via phone and text, grading work electronically... It all changed so fast, and it still feels unfair. We weren't finished yet.  We weren't finished loving them, pushing them, guiding them, putting the final touches on their wings.  But somehow we managed.  Somehow we made it.  We adapted, we grew, we leaned on our colleagues, we found a way to teach and connect virtually as well as we could, we busted our butts to give our students the end of the school year they deserved.  Though it may seem weird to say this, I have fallen more in love with my job since March 13th than I have in thirteen years.  I am so proud of us, all of us - our beloved and bonded tribe of teachers.  I watched you guys, watched myself, become vulnerable, struggle, grow, and be brave in the same ways I usually witness within my students this time of year.  I will forever remember this time in my career... I will remember the little girl in my class who - usually so shy - found her voice in our daily virtual lessons.... the same little girl who sobbed during our last day of online learning, cracking my heart wide open and simultaneously assuring me that us teachers did a heck of a job during this wild ride.  My hope and wish for all of us is that our experience during this time will make us better for them.  That we will never take for granted the opportunity to stand in front of our learners, in person.  That we will never take for granted the opportunity to greet kids at a classroom door, to throw footballs with them at recess, to lie down on the carpet and read with them.  If we allow it, I know this opportunity will forever affect who we are as educators, leaders, and mentors for the rest of our careers.

To the students, to the parents, to the teachers...
Let's tuck this time away in our memories, turn the page of this chapter with feelings of pride, of joy, of accomplishment.  We did so many hard things... maybe not perfectly, and maybe we needed a whole lot of grace, but so far -- we've made it.  And I believe we've had to live through this chapter in order to be prepared for the next one.  Who knows what that will look like, how our next sentences and paragraphs will unfold... but I am absolutely certain that what we've experienced during this time as students, as parents, and as teachers is preparing us for what is to come as we turn to the next page, together... <3