9/16/2021
Yes, we're still in the pandemic, if anyone is counting. As of today, (according to Johns Hopkins Covid-19 site, my source from the beginning) there have been 4.6 million deaths worldwide from 226,810,008 confirmed cases. On the plus side, there have been 5.8 trillion vaccine doses administered worldwide though the US is far and away the proud owner of both the most monthly cases (4.3 million) and monthly deaths (41,712). India has, cumulatively, 200,000 fewer deaths from Covid-19 and it goes down from there. Had {we} not politicized the virus, masks, vaccines, etc., we wouldn't be on the top of the pile of the dead. It doesn't always look better from the top.
For me personally, five days ago I walked away from teaching. I was in class during the 9/11 remembrance and at the top of every hour a teacher would come on and say where they were when it happened. As I was teaching high school, none of the students had been alive at the time, so it seemed very much like ancient history to them. And why shouldn't it? So naturally, the kids were having difficulty being respectful, but that's just kids. They were in no way the cause of what happened next.
Which is that I started to cry, and couldn't stop. The 9/11 remembrances were just the icing on the cake of a long, hard slog of personal and professional challenges.
PROFESSIONAL: Of the three panic attacks I've had in my life, all three have been as a teacher with the last two being in my current district. Last year, we came back to school amid constant changes, reconfiguring, endless discussion, decisions that immediately were reversed (usually by the CDC or the governor), anger and fear. I was OK coming back to school during most of the high-school only training, but when we had convocation and I walked into the commons with every member of the district present and very few wearing masks I was terrified. I walked back out and stayed out a while until people started trickling in to the auditorium, then I went in to sit in the back, but had to duck out again to hyperventilate in the bathroom. That was the start.
After viewing my class numbers (20-25) and the size of my classroom (very small), I knew I would not be able to social distance there. The principal suggested I teach in another teacher's classroom (most likely without asking that teacher first) and that teacher came down to my classroom and demonstrated how I could fit my desks so that the students would be six feet apart when the CDC was recommending more. It didn't take me long after that to realize that there was no way to be around young people in the building I was in with the community beliefs there were. I drew up my resignation and wrote a check for breaking my contract and was ready to leave. My principal and superintendent met with me the same day and talked me into staying. I wish I'd listened to my gut.
I made it through last year, but it was truly an awful year. Trying to teach online and in person simultaneously didn't really work for anyone and was so tiring. Also, I was not really good at it--my forte is interpersonal relationships and it's very hard to do that if you have to pay attention to the lesson, the interruptions, the in-person students, the online students, the emails, etc., etc.
PERSONAL: I've spoken here about my son's health, so I won't elaborate, but he's now on a second biologic medication that does not seem to be having much effect. Hence, he is very sick most of the time, in and out of hospitals. My daughter, after two years of constant applications, was finally hired as a third grade teacher for the district in which we live. (I work for a nearby district in a town 20 miles away). So that is good news, but not all stress is bad. My husband has been experiencing some challenges as work as well.
I'll try to articulate this better in the next entry. Just thinking/writing/talking about it makes me upset.