Pandemic Journal #1: We Write to Remember

“I don’t ask for the sights in front of me to change, only the depth of my seeing.”
-Mary Oliver

I never imagined that our hoop house would be my new classroom. However, we’re living through some interesting times. I thought our food plot would be a unique place to record a video for my students to show them what my life is like outside of the classroom.

My husband said this is definitely my “Teacher Look” or “Teacher Lady” as he affectionately calls me.

I guess that yesterday’s distance learning translated to Bog boots since it is mud season in Michigan (plus, we have chickens – enough said). 🤣 Yet, it was a photo worthy moment because I even applied makeup and ran a brush through my hair.

The world is our classroom after all!

We have been out of school since March 13 due to the Covid-19 virus. It has been surreal to say the least. This week I started an on-line Pandemic Journal with my students. I wanted to model to them what their journals may look like so I am stepping outside my comfort zone and am creating videos in hopes I can make a connection with them.

This was my video today (I will type the journal entry below):

April 21, 2020

A reflection from my Facebook social media post on Thursday, April 16th at 3:51 pm

“The painful things seemed like knots on a beautiful necklace, necessary for keeping the beads in place.” ~ Anita Diamant

The above was the last prompt I gave my students before the world seemed to slowly turn upside down.

I’ve kept this quote in my collective memory and I have thought of my students often, but I had to remove myself emotionally from the reality of what was happening so it didn’t hit so hard. I was trying to hold things together like those knots on that beautiful necklace. I kept distant from my feelings and denied myself the opportunity to mourn. Guarded. We all mourn differently.

Today I took the drive and the awkward steps into my classroom. It was quiet but it still felt like home. It comforted the rawness around my heart.

My mailbox offerings left a lump in my throat and were the catalyst for warm tears. Finally the tears. Packages for my students – Outrageous Request Letters granted. We must wait until the “Shelter in Place” order is lifted.

I gathered my remaining plants. The geraniums I winter each year in my classroom. I grabbed several on our last day – not sure what the coming days would hold. When I returned today I didn’t expect any signs of life, but green still resided in a few of the pots. With some TLC a couple of them will recover.

I will take these packages and the green leaves as a sign of hope. A promise that better days are coming.

The anxious knots in my stomach are not in vain. They too are signs of life. Signs of compassion and a softness that makes a teacher a force to be reckoned with.

My colleagues and I are entering a new phase of our career – a part not fully developed or chartered. We are making maps. We are defining our new roles.

My empty journal is a ready for words. My students and I will guide each other.

We will write our stories –
so we,
and others,
can remember.

My weary classroom plants.

Outrageous Requests granted. I will have to post about this assignment – it’s my favorite!

Signs of life. The plant on the right is loving the TLC.

We still have a lot of snow on the ground!

Our hoop house is one of my favorite places to getaway and focus on growth!

Here is yesterday’s video:

2 thoughts on “Pandemic Journal #1: We Write to Remember

  1. Pingback: Pandemic Journal: We Write to Remember — Glitter and Dog Hair | Produce with Amy

  2. Pingback: Pandemic Journal: We Write to Remember | Produce with Amy

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