I don’t think anyone knew what to expect when the students returned to school today. Our eight days out of school were unlike virtually any “break” we teachers had ever experienced, and that surely would be doubly true for the students. There was one “break” it called to mind, the “vacation” we dare not speak of. Still, the similarities were undeniable: we left suddenly; we knew not what devastation the future held for us and those we love; we had no idea when we would return.
During our faculty meeting during yesterday’s teacher work day, our principal reminded us about the potential fragility of the situation. “We have no idea what our kids have gone through. We don’t know what trauma each individual child experienced. We don’t know what stresses await the children when the return home. Go easy on them. Love on them.”
Many of the kids would likely have said they were not happy to be back, that they would have been thrilled to hear that they would never have to return, but our experience of the lockdown would belie such sentiments, as did the students’ faces this morning as they walked down the corridors for the first time in days. There was a palpable sense of relief in each of my classes: things were returning to normal.
Events like this shouldn’t be the only thing that reminds us of the inherent frailties in many of our students’ lives, shouldn’t be the only thing that reminds us to go easy on them. The more I teach, the more I realize this gentleness is the key to students’ hearts and souls, and once a teacher has those things, she can lead the students — even the most recalcitrant or incorrigible — just about anywhere. Or in the jargon and memes of teaching, “They have to know you care before they care what you know.”
It was a good day to be a teacher.
