All things new

I thought starting out a new school year in the midst of an adoption process was hard. But I made it.

I thought starting out a new year in the midst of an adoption appeal, amidst all the anxiety and always keeping plans on hand for the possibility of being out for the next six to eight weeks while I traveled to Colombia was hard, but I made it.

I thought starting out a new school year while in the process of writing and publishing a book was hard, but I made it.

I thought starting out a new school year while in the middle of a new adoption process without the guarantee that it would be successful was hard, but I made it. 

I thought starting out a new year as a new adoptive parent of a teenage boy while also teaching a brand new class of four year olds (of which I had NO experience or preparation for) was hard, but I made it.

I thought starting out a new school year while the building was still under construction was hard, but I made it.

I thought starting out a new school year online was hard, but we did it. 

But starting out a new year teaching both online and in-person while still in the midst of a pandemic--that's a whole new level of hard. A mental and emotional hard that is very difficult to explain. 

Add to that the new grief/learning curve of having my baby gone to college, having to emerge from the last six months of blissful silence of teaching and working from the comfort of my front porch, saying goodbye to the dog we added to our family to take the place of a brother and sister that didn't come home eleven years ago, and watching the church you attended faithfully for twelve years close its doors to the Saturday night service your family always attended. It's a lot of loss and change to try to swallow and process and grieve and keep moving forward all at once. 

The first week back to school (after teaching online for a month) definitely kept everyone on our toes, as we had to make minute by minute decisions as to what worked and didn't work, what kept our kids safe and what didn't, what teaching techniques felt successful and which ones didn't. Everyone supported everyone, the kids listened and tried hard to please you on both sides of the screen, and you could tell everyone was just happy to feel a new sense of structure taking shape. 

The second week back held a lot of trial and error as to how to keep kids engaged both at school and at home, figuring out how to balance this new normal, and getting both sides into a solid routine, knowing every day holds the risk of exposure to COVID that might send you home to quarantine for two weeks or to nurse yourself back to health. Living with that anxiety alone is probably the hardest part of it all. 

The third week back felt long, as the expectations of what you're supposed to be teaching and the reality of what's really happening in the classroom started to collide. The COVID slide/cliff is real and can't be ignored. The gaps are bigger, the kids are far more out of practice, and they are restless, desperate for this virus to go away so they can get back to playing and socializing like they're supposed to. For me, my kids got comfortable this week and seemed to need constant reminders to social distance, to stay in their seat where there is a plastic barricade for their own protection, to sanitize their hands after touching something that someone else touched. 

And that rigor we're supposed to be teaching with? Ha. Academics have taken a big step back in my classroom as I shifted my focus to teaching self-sufficiency and independence. "This is our daily routine, boys and girls, and these are the activities we do every single day in the same order." Before we can focus on any kind of response to reading, we have to focus on actually reading. Back to repeating and reading high frequency word lists, simple syllable flashcards, etc. And number sense? We can't even begin to work with four digit numbers when we still don't understand two digit numbers. It's gonna be one of those years where we have to back up quite a bit here at the beginning to set a solid foundation before we can build on it. And it's more than obvious that these kids haven't had to sit in a classroom for half a year. We ALL got used to the comforts of home without strict restroom and eating schedules/limits and are having a hard time having to work from a hard desk and chair all day. It's hard for the kids in class to see the online kids "come to class" with a snack or sit comfortably on a couch or bed, while it's hard for the online kids to see the kids in class be able to see and socialize with each other.

I must admit, this week was hard, and I started out a rather weepy mess, driving to school in tears the first few days. I missed my boy, the reality of the losses at church hit me hard, my house felt different and empty without our dog, and I felt this guilt about letting him go, even though I knew it was the most compassionate choice due to his multiple health issues. I got to school on Monday and had minor interruptions seem to break my concentration and focus all day long. No matter what I did, I couldn't keep everyone happy, I couldn't keep every student engaged, and I couldn't meet every expectation put over me- at school, at home, and especially outside of school and home. I felt like I just might scream or fall apart if one more person reminded me that I let them down or disappointed them in some way (not just in school) or just didn't do something correctly. I needed encouragement, so I specifically prayed for it every day. 

And then the librarian let me know that my class behaved better than any class all year so far.

The SPED inclusion teacher told me how much she loved my class.

My assistant principal had a dance party with my kids during indoor recess and told me what a great group they are.

My little girls complemented me on my hair, my pretty bows, my earrings that I rarely wear, my shirt that I pulled out for the first time since the temps started lowering, and my purple mask that matched the purple in my shirt.

My kids told me they love our 30 minute independent writing time most out of everything we do, those 30 minutes after lunch when I put on calming music and we just all sit and write. For this writer who loves teaching writing more than anything, having a class that loves it as much as I do is a HUGE blessing, compliment, and encouragement.

My husband had a delicious dinner waiting for me every single night, along with a clean kitchen. 

I reached 500 miles on my bike since COVID started, 500 miles of exercise and mental retreat I didn't used to give myself. 

God even prompted me one evening to get out my binder full of Scripture verses that I've colored and just sit and read them aloud. Each one encouraged me, uplifted me, soothed my heart, and affirmed me.

Though I started out a weepy mess this week, God reminded me that He sees me and hears me and walks beside me. He reminded me that I'm exactly where He wants me doing exactly what He called me and equipped me to do. There are many parts to teaching virtually that I actually really enjoy, such as prerecording lessons and letting kids watch them and learn at their own pace, in their own way. I've enjoyed watching my kids become more self-sufficient and self-directed, helping them realize all the resources they can choose to tap into, giving them options of how they present their work--on a digitized worksheet they did on the computer, using tools on the computer to draw or type in various colors, working on a dry erase board as their scratch paper, working in their journals and then taking pictures to upload to their online journal. I enjoy a near paperless classroom and the ability to pull out my phone or ipad to check up on their progress or make comments on their work at any time. I enjoy the daily check in from an online student who leaves me daily audio comments on how his day is going and how much he enjoys his schoolwork. I love hearing my kids on both sides of the screen tell me how happy they are every day to be "in school". 

I remember a quote from Mary DeMuth from my online Bible study this summer that fits well right now. Grief and joy hold hands. I'm in the midst of a lot of loss and change right now, but I'm also finding a lot of joy in all the newness around me. Change is hard, but it's also good and sometimes quite needed. As I look at the pictures my kids upload of their work and I see those masks on their faces in the picture, I can't help but tear up. I should see a smile on their face instead of a mask. I should be hugging them instead of constantly stepping back a little bit further. But then I see them hard at work, each in their own little way, and I smile behind my own mask, knowing that God is definitely making all things new. Beauty will emerge when we can one day take these masks off, smile, and huddle together again, and we will be thankful for all that we learned through it. 

I stopped praying for protection from COVID every day and started praying for protection THROUGH it. Through this season, He's still in control and still by my side.