One day in mid-March many teachers got the word that their schools would be closed for about 2 weeks. While still anxiety provoking, this they could handle. They told the little people they would see them soon and that they would miss them. They grabbed a few things from their classrooms and went home. For some, after having exactly 0 snow days, this actually felt like a welcome relief and some time to recharge. They had no idea they would not be coming back, and they had no idea they would not see some of those students ever again.
Very soon after being closed for a few days, many schools made a bold announcement and made the decision to close for the entire year. Zero warning, zero preparation, and with no chance for teachers to say goodbye to their students and their lives as they knew it. It was at this moment, that many educators broke. Rather than wrapping our arms around them, letting them take a breath and grieve what amounts to a tremendous loss, we asked them to move mountains and try to make about 4 months worth of educational material accessible online, overnight. We didn’t give them the chance to grieve, to be a human.
Among a thousand other things, they are missing the handshakes, the high fives, the hugs, the laughter, the aha moments, the sense of pride they feel when a student who has been struggling finally succeeds, the community and the interaction. And for our most vulnerable populations, those teachers are literally worried sick about the students in their class who are unsafe in their own homes. They know that staying at home for those students means risk of physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, and profound neglect. Those teachers know that many of their students don’t have internet, or devices, or parents who are able to read, and know that this time away from school will have sweeping impacts on not only their academics but their social and emotional well being. Those teachers know how much support their students with disabilities need, and also know that their parents, although they will try their absolute best, will not be able to meet many of them. Those teachers know that many of their students will go without food, without affection, and without any kind of socialization…for months, and that there is nothing they can do about it. They are feeling helpless and heartbroken.
Those same teachers that had to use herculean energy to get out of bed, and fight through their grief, are now showing up for their students every day online. They are making extra videos like crazy. They don’t have all their materials so they are buying new ones (with their own money), redoing much of what they already had available in their classrooms, and being incredibly creative. They are making parent phone calls in multiple languages trying to get their students access to devices and the internet. They are fielding calls, a dozen zoom meetings, and an overwhelming amount of new responsibilities, along with managing the changes for their own families. We need to have patience, gratitude, and show kindness to our teachers so that they can in turn give it to themselves, and also grieve.
To my teachers. I see you. I support you. I am here for you.
That hopelessness and pain you feel in your stomach, that’s grief. Those racing thoughts and images of students floating constantly in your mind, that’s grief. Missing your morning coffee buddy, that’s grief. Not knowing where to start to try and rebuild your life, that’s grief. Missing your favorite colored pens and your planner, that’s grief. Angry at nothing, and then everything at the same time, that’s grief. Cried three (or four) times today, also grief. These reactions are completely normal, yet we are telling them to suck it up, make it work, be grateful they are getting paid, and on and on and on. What we need to do instead, is wrap our “virtual” arms around our educators, and let them know that we see them, we are grateful for them, and we will be there to support them for them to the best of our ability. The next 3 months will not be perfect, but if you see an educator trying, let them know. And if you see them grieving, let them.
In these next few months here are a few self-care tips for my teachers as we all figure out how to navigate this new normal together:
1) Shower, get dressed, and get ready as if you were going into school. It doesn’t matter if you have 1 student you reach or 25, you are doing it for you.
2) Give yourself a few minutes before class time away from technology to do a bit of grounding. Drink your coffee while it’s hot, watch an episode of Schitt’s Creek, meditate for 5 minutes, do a one sentence journal. Whatever you need.
3) Sign on and off ALL devices at a designated time. You are being paid for 7.5 hours a day of work. Yes, there will be some extra hours required to get used to all this, but don’t make it your norm. Get your system, and then set some boundaries. You are not a 24/7 crisis line. DND on your devices is a wonderful feature.
4) Keep your “work” space separate from your “rest” space. Your body is learning a new routine. If you teach from your bedroom, when it’s time to go to sleep your body is going to think it’s time to work.
5) Stay connected to friends and family. Life exists outside of the virtual classroom and you need to stay tapped into it. Revive your groups texts, say yes to that virtual happy hour, and wave at your neighbors across the street.
6) EXERCISE in some way shape or form. Your body needs to move and it needs sunlight. Walk, run, do an on demand video, yoga class, it doesn’t matter what it is, just move your body.
And as always, if you need me, I am here.
Higgins Center for Healing, LLC
Mailing Address ONLY: 4914 Fitzhugh Ave. Suite 200
Richmond, VA 23230
All Rights Reserved | Higgins Center for Healing, LLC
LGBTQIA+ safe zone