Last night I had a dream. A work dream. An anxious work dream. Usually my anxious work dreams involve me lost on a large, unfamiliar campus, unable to find my way to my room. I know I’m late, and that my students are waiting for me, but I can’t for the life of me, figure out how to get to my room. I hate that dream, and I have it all the time.
Last night’s anxious work dream was different. At first it was all about how I couldn’t get my students to line up outside my classroom. No matter what I did, they would not line up to listen to my directions. I was getting increasingly more frustrated, so I walked out to where they were, and saw there were two giant pot holes in the asphalt, right where they were supposed to line up. One of them was massive, big enough for four or five kids to fall into, and deep enough that they wouldn’t be unable to climb out once they fell in. I was flabbergasted, and then despondent. These gaping holes were clearly safety hazards, and no one had done anything to protect my students from them! They weren’t marked or cordoned off or anything, they were just massive holes that any kid could fall into at any moment, and they were right where I was asking my kids to line up. As I was trying to figure out why no one was doing anything to protect my students from the holes, I woke up.
Well, that dream wasn’t hard to interpret.
I left a (probably inappropriately) long comment on SHU’s post today, letting her know that she was not alone in feeling overwhelmed by everything happening right now, especially the start of the school year. My whole family is on edge. No one is sleeping well. My kids are (understandably) nervous about starting school again after spending only 10 days in their classrooms last year (really since March of 2020). That anxiety is compounded by the fact that they are “returning” to completely new schools that they know nothing about, and that they will know nothing about until they first step foot on them this coming Monday. It’s a lot.
If I’m stressed out by a new classroom and a return to in person learning after meeting students on campus for only two days last year (also since March 2020), I can only imagine how they feel.
At this point I think we just need to jump in. Right now we’re standing at the edge of the cliff, wondering what the water will feel like, worrying about what creatures might be swimming in the depths, fearing that we might hit the water wrong. The longer we stand here the harder it will be to take the plunge. I’m thankful that school starts on Monday. I do think we’ll feel better after we jump in.
And hopefully, in real life, we’ll feel more prepared to avoid the safety hazards, even if it feels like they aren’t clearly marked, and no one is protecting us from them.
I think you’re right about just diving in.
We just finished our first week of in person fully masked school in the Bay Area and while I’m not relaxed, the stress in the days leading up to the first day was exponentially higher than now.