Me, Myself, and I

Today I pampered myself in a number of ways. 

I slept in, I enjoyed a second cup of coffee before running a couple of quick morning errands, then I visited a favorite escape from a past era of my life for a leisurely afternoon walk before indulging myself with a mani-pedi. I took full advantage of the fact that no one really needed me today. 

Green Spring Gardens is tucked behind the Salvation Army on Little River Turnpike, and can be accessed from Braddock Road. Open year-round, this extensive public garden is an oasis of inspiration and education operated free of charge by Fairfax Park Authority. I first discovered it over a decade ago when my job involved wearing out two active youngsters on a daily basis. They could run free, and I could keep them in sight while also enjoying a stroll among plants.

No one else needed me today, but I sure needed some time with, and for, myself.

Making Connections

When I woke up this morning I wanted nothing more than to stay home and work virtually, but the expectation was for us to be in-building even though it was a teacher workday. I gave the snooze button an extra workout, and I lingered over my coffee and steel-cut oatmeal. Eventually I dressed, gathered my devices, and pushed off in time for a 9:00am arrival.

Circling the hallways allowed me to reconnect with colleagues personally, which immediately helped the building to feel friendlier. Catching up on toddlers Charles and Teddy, as well as Kimberly’s dogs, then poking my head into Jeremy’s little cave... all of these personal touches felt comforting, and just as necessary as updating my co-planning folder or pulling up student interims.

Elita helped me solve a MacBook conundrum, and while doing so I witnessed Mr. Bee’s triumph in figuring out the crucial SMART Board settings and webcam placement for concurrent teaching. Being able to carry this information down to Ms. Vernier so that she could finalize her own classroom set-up, which we tested out in a Teams meeting with Meagan, was also exciting. 

Later on, as I was getting ready to head out, Tracey arrived to conquer her own classroom set-up so that we will finally be able to enjoy an echo-free two-way connection with our classroom students and our virtual students beginning on Tuesday. 

Today underscored for me the importance of showing up, even when the task ahead feels impossible. Today also highlighted the joy of connecting with the people around me, and how working together helps to move us all forward.

Stuck in the Mud

This morning I had just settled into my cozy corner in Room 272 when I got a phone call from Mr. Appanah, our Building Manager, asking me if I could head outside and meet the mulch truck. He told me he had tried to discourage them from coming today because he feared the ground was not yet dry enough.

I alerted my two co-teachers and dashed outside to meet the truck, thinking it would take 5-10 minutes at most. The truck driver and attendant seemed determined to off-load the mulch today, even if they couldn’t get in inside the garden gates. One of them has delivered to us in the past without issue. 

Though somewhat dubious myself, I helped them move the bleacher and plot out the least soggy route from the asphalt pathway towards the garden. The experienced man on the job got out of the truck to walk around and test the ground, which he apparently deemed okay. Who was I to question his experience?

Mud oozed around the back wheels of the truck. I opened the garden shed to grab shovels and rakes for the flummoxed workers, encouraging them to use any branches, blocks of wood, or stones they could find. Then I texted my co-workers about my thickening plight. Reidy Brown, my school garden partner, was thankfully happy to dash over to relieve me so I could get back to class.

Rushing the season doesn’t always work out so well, but there is now mulch on the premises, if also deep ruts in the grass. Nine days from now we will open the garden as planned. But tomorrow I’m packing an extra bag of grass seed 

Field of Dreams

It’s barely March and I’ve already been out to Merrifield Garden Center twice this month, or rather twice this week. I’m definitely pushing the season. 

Sun and shade perennials are still hiding inside billowing, rectangular circus tents until the threat of frost has safely passed. The old equipment barn is getting a new roof, and other off-season refinements are winding down. Hours have just been extended from 6:00pm until 7:00pm, as late winter days grow longer.

The reason for my first trip was a specific brand of grass seed and some top soil. Ground cover exploration lured me back again today. Ground cover, and the warm, sunny day. Driving west, into the golden glow, on my annual pilgrimage to reclaim Spring, and dream up new planting projects, I reveled in the possibility of it all. 

Leap of Faith

A precipice, to me, is a scarier place than the base of a mountain, perhaps because of my abject fear of heights, in contrast to my enjoyment of hiking. This past year of teaching has been a journey leading me from one precipice to another. I have not been alone in this journey, but the journey has been lonely at times.

Today we return to the school building, a huge leap of faith in our employer’s promise to keep us all safe. 

Will there be HEPA filters waiting for us in each and every room? 

Will mask-wearing and distancing be enforced among those who are reluctant? 

Can we truly teach in-person students as we concurrently teach students who remain virtual learners? 

Will such a stilted environment be more alienating than working from home? 

These are some of the questions on my mind as we head back into the building today.

No Margin for Error

For the first time since APS rolled out the Qualtrics daily check-in system for staff several weeks ago, my finger slipped (or was it my brain?) and I inadvertently answered “yes” to one of the questions. 

There is no going back and changing answers. I didn’t even sign the pledge or submit the form. But I still got the big red “NO” symbol. 

How can this system be so unforgiving as to not allow edits?

Today is the Qualtrics rollout for students, which includes my teenage son. Were I to accidentally strand him at home one Tuesday or Wednesday, he too might be unforgiving. He is desperate to regain the independence that he had developed during his first year of high school. Being turned away at the schoolhouse door because of a Mom error would be humiliating for him.

Maybe it’s a good thing I’m exploring the margin of error on my own survey this morning, with an email in to Mr. Jarosz, our on-site safety guru.

Dusting off the Ol’ Blog

Here we are again, on the verge of another Hundred Day Challenge. For me, only my second one. For some of you it has become an annual ritual, and for at least one person I know that first Hundred Day Challenge never actually ended. 

Well, Tracey, we’re back to join you for awhile on your never-ending journey. Ready or not, here we come!