Nov. 9, 2016 - The Day After

During the past months, I wondered, if Trump won, how would I even go to school on Nov. 9?  I knew I would feel sick, dismayed, despairing. And I do.

But last night as I tossed and turned, my only mental resting spot was to focus on what will be the same today, regardless of the election outcome.  I know this is a form of denial, but today, I need to tighten my lens, look at what is right in front of me, focus on what has NOT changed:

The sun will come up.

My job--to teach kindness, manners, acceptance of others, appreciation of differences, listening skills, group problem-solving, and critical thinking--is still important; no--more important than ever. There will not be a single day in the next four years that I will have to wonder if I'm needed.

At least two or three of my Eng9H kids will finish books today and will be eager to tell me their reactions and plans for their next books.

Three of my students are delivering speeches (public oral commitments to something of value) today. I know from what I observed yesterday that their classmates will listen respectfully and be generous with praise. This doesn't happen by chance. We practice civility every day in Room #408.

My students in another class have been teaching each other how to recognize and correct knotty homophone mistakes. They have been creative and funny, developing mnemonic devices to help lift each other out of confusion! This morning I will write an assessment to help them determine if their teaching (and learning) have been successful. I look forward to this. It is a small, focused task I can accomplish.

I will stand in the hall between classes and greet students like I'm glad to see them, because I am.

Students will come in during their study halls to put the final touches on this week's newscast. During class we will critique the show, celebrating improvements, planning to do better next week. We will voice criticism in helpful, polite ways.

Emma and Rachelle and I will share lunch, loaves and fishes style, and thank each other profusely for whatever day-old muffins or broccoli salad or left-over soup we brought. We will laugh. (Okay, we might also cry.)

My administrators and I will pass in the hall, or I'll show up at their door. We will treat each other respectfully. I will feel supported and valued. I hope they do too.

I will laugh with my students many, many times today.  I think Nov. 9 is the day we'll finally hang the foam basketball hoop in the Jlab.

At the end of the day, we'll have professional development, which is a time I get to practice my own civility skills.

I will then drive home, exhausted, having emptied the last drop in my bucket of energy.

I will call my children and hear their day's joys and woes.

I will ride with my husband in the combine on this last day of harvest.

The sun will set.

And it will rise again tomorrow.