Thoughts from the Chick-fil-A Drive Thru

       I rolled through the Chick-fil-A drive thru with tears in my eyes. The parking lot was crowded, but I knew from my students who work there that the line would move fast, and that once I paid for my food, I'd have it in five minutes with a "My pleasure" to follow. It was around 5:45 p.m., and I hadn't been home yet, staying after school for not one but two meetings--both virtual. I felt broken after teaching that day, thinking the day could have been better spent in bed in my pajamas. With no lesson plans done for the next day, I was entirely overwhelmed and did not think I could continue to teach in this pandemic. Unsustainable has been a word I often use to describe what I'm doing this school year, and I had just used that word to describe my experience in my last zoom meeting. Rarely am I negative, but as I pulled into Chick-fil-A, I was angry and frustrated and even hard on myself for not having the energy to cook dinner for my family. I composed myself, rolled down my window, and placed my order, but when I went to pay, I realized my purse was in my trunk. I proceeded to hold up the entire line in rush hour to retrieve my purse to pay for my food, and it was then as I got out of my car, I saw one of my students in the line next to me waving. Actually, her entire family was waving and saying hello. She was a reminder of why I do what I do. She was a reminder that I need to show myself forgiveness and not put so much pressure on myself, not worry about whether or not I am cut out to teach in a pandemic. After all, school is not about being the perfect teacher or even a good teacher. It's about building relationships with students and a classroom community. It's about helping one another in a world where sometimes everyone seems to be forging his own path.

     These days I feel like we place an inordinate amount of pressure on ourselves. There are social pressures of what others think. As a student, there's the pressure to earn good grades or do the right thing or be in an excessive amount of clubs and organizations. There's the pressure to get into college and be the best athletes, citizens, children, students, people we can. There's pressure from our social media feeds to the clothes we wear. Why do we have this internal clock that makes us think we constantly have to be working to be better than everyone else?  We compare ourselves to others on who has it harder, easier, who is smarter, funnier. Your uphill climb both ways in the snow will always outdo mine.  What if we stopped putting this pressure on others and ourselves?  What if we started rooting hard for each other instead of pulling each other down?   

      In 1993, George H.W. Bush wrote a letter to Bill Clinton when Clinton won the presidential election.  The letter talked about the office of the presidency, and Bush ended the letter to Clinton saying, "I'm rooting hard for you."   

 Every time I read that, I'm in awe at President Bush's words. Here were two political rivals who put aside differences to see the common good and encourage one another. I think that's something we need right now--encouragement. We need to be lifting each other up instead of pressuring one another on who's the funniest, the smartest, the most popular, the best athlete, the fastest. I have met people who often try to "one up" me. My hardest moment is never as hard as theirs. My greatest success can never compare to theirs. Let's stop doing that. Let's root hard for each other.

        So, here's what I'm rooting for: I'm rooting for you, my students. You are the 140 individuals who have shown me far more grit and resilience in this pandemic than any other group. You are the people I spend more time with on a daily basis. You are the people who never seem to complain, who keep going. Yet, I also see your stress. I also see the pressure you put on yourself to be the best or better than others. I see the pressure inside of you--even if you aren't competing with one another. It's easier said than done, but I think when we stop worrying about how we will succeed and start cheering each other on, some of that pressure is relieved. More importantly, some of that support of others is simply necessary while living in a pandemic.

     What I've learned from teaching in this pandemic is teachers and students are more united than they were before. We are in the trenches together--whether that be face to face struggling through the forward-facing rows and one-way hallways or whether that be on zoom as we long for far more of a connection than a screen. There's a level of grace this year that exists between teachers and students that I'm not so sure existed before--or at least I like to think so. In many years a disconnect can occur between teachers and students. What if I told you this year, I feel like we are on the same playing field? It's hard to teach in a pandemic; it's equally hard it learn in one. There's nothing easy about it so instead of putting pressure to be the people we were before this virus, what if we just gave ourselves and each other grace? What if we rooted for one another?  I see you, my students, constantly rooting hard for me--whether that be just checking on how my day is or helping me navigate three screens of technology or bringing me chocolate to get through the day.

     Likewise, I rooted for you quite often this past month. IB English students, you drafted and recorded podcasts about your Covid-19 experiences. They sounded so professional that my own children at home asked me what I was listening to. Perhaps one day you will look back and listen to your own experiences with pride of the resilience and grace you exhibited in living in a pandemic. I also witnessed you thinking outside the box in your analysis of Station Eleven. Perhaps I was cruel to ask you to read a book about a pandemic while we are living in one, but you never faltered or complained. Because this book is one without many teacher resources, most of the conversations and activities we've done with it have been from my own thinking. It's allowed all of us to think outside of the box and demonstrate far more creativity. I'm proud of the work you did. 

Six Degrees of Station Eleven projects

     And my TOK students, you set up and opened a mental health space for the entire school to use. You put ideas and research into this and despite the fact that we do not have goats or a bird bath like you asked for, you made this space a place for others to take a break. 

Raider Retreat Ribbon Cutting Ceremony

Seniors, you've done what I believe all good classrooms should do--you took time to know each other. While you may have spent up to twelve years in school together and were actually all together in TOK last year, you started having conversations with others in our classroom you don't regularly talk to. You resolved conflicts with one another. Yes, you have had some interesting discussions about the arts as an area of knowledge, but you've also gone beyond the curriculum to support one another. I hope you continue to do that.

"Family" Breakfast

     At the end of the day, if you can remember one thing in the middle of this pandemic, it's this: I'm rooting  hard for you. 

     So, promise me you'll stop putting pressure on yourselves and on each other. And I promise you I'll stop putting pressure on myself to be the teacher I was last year or to make you the perfect students. Remember, sometimes it's okay not to be okay. Sometimes it's okay to just go through the Chick-fil-A drive thru because like me, your moment of clarity  might be waiting for you there. And when you do have a day where you just want to put on pajamas and crawl back into bed, know I'll be rooting hard for you--always.