There's No Place Like Home

About six weeks ago, a friend asked me of my plans for spring break. As teachers, many of us travel to rejuvenate ourselves for the long home stretch to June. I know many of my colleagues had plans to travel across, and even out of, the country. My answer was that I just wanted to stay home and not go anywhere. I guess I am able to keep my plan but I certainly wish the circumstances were different.

One gift that I have is my ability to fall asleep quickly. Not long after my head hits the pillow, I'm in the land of dreams. I have trouble staying asleep. Once I get my five hours, I'm awake. A dear friend I used to work with coined the phrase, "sleeping fast." Sometimes she'd work the night shift and then have to open the next day. I guess I have learned to 'sleep fast.' Lately however, sleep has been more elusive.

In my classes at school, we had been following the virus as it developed in China. When we began discussing it, we had no idea this would be the outcome. This past week was the craziest and busiest week of my thirty years of teaching! With two days to plan, we spent the last three days connecting with our students online. My team of four has 88 students and we attacked this task with efficiency and tenacity, using every bit of technology we could to check-in with our students. Despite our efforts, we still have a few we have yet to hear from. If any taxpayers have doubts about our work, let there be no question. My eyes were dry and weary after each day of constant connecting, planning and teaching. Our students are like our own children and we are concerned for their well-being. This is just one of many things that keeps us awake.

When I taught 9th grade English I adored the Young Adult dystopian novels that my students read. Since I always made it a habit to read what they were reading, I have the twisted plots of too many books rolling around in my head. I am frightened about how this may all play out. Another thing that keeps me awake is sheer amazement that a tiny virus from across the planet has done so much damage so quickly. We can't even see it and it is wreaking havoc on millions of lives; it is tanking the economy and impacting every aspect of being human. Spiraling down into a scary depression is an easy journey. I have found that the evening and night is terribly challenging. If you follow my blog at all, you know that I am a fan of the sunrise and the hope it brings each day. Consequently, I find the mornings to be a chance to try again at remaining positive. This takes much reflection and purposeful breathing to get there. A couple days ago it dawned on me and I saw this in a new light: we have other things that we cannot see that are equally important. I submit that kindness, compassion and humanity are also small things that can have an enormous impact. They are the intangible aspects that unite us as humans. When I read The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu, I learned of the word, "ubuntu", which I recall is a Zulu word that means we are all connected. This virus is connecting us in tragic ways but the essence of ubuntu is that it is also connecting us in positive ways too. To counter the sobering headlines, I am finding equal stories that show the good. People helping seniors get groceries, health care workers working tirelessly, emergency personnel preparing, citizens helping out small businesses, and a movement to have people who sew make masks to mitigate an impending shortage. Just as we cannot see the virus without a microscope, we can see its impact. We may not see all of the acts of kindness but we can see their impact too.

If you really know me, you know that Gandhi is an inspiration for me. (At the last job interview I had, I toyed with the idea of answering every question with a Gandhi quote!) At this moment the quote that I connect with from him is, "Whatever you do may seem insignificant, but it is most important that you do it."

Helping out in our own community, our own world is not only necessary but paramount. Whether we are doing something actively or simply staying home, we are helping. Staying home may seem insignificant but it is critical. We live in a time when communication has never been easier. My take is that we have less community. Perhaps the silver lining in all of this is that we will come out of this tragedy with a renewed sense of community, a renewed sense of compassion. I remain steadfast in my hope that it is our humanity that will save us. Comfort your friends, hug your family, and quiet your mind. The world needs you. And there's no place like home.