Where Do I Go From Here?

It’s Sunday morning and I’ve started what is to hopefully be a week long reset and self care.

I’m back at square one. It’s a familiar place. I visit it often. I keep asking myself how do I keep ending up back here. Well for one thing, grief is not linear and the grief process should never have been shared as a list, like a grocery list that can be checked off.

Grief affects and usually is the driving force of many of my decisions. It’s a hard thing to balance knowing when you should listen to it, follow it, or dismiss it.

I probably should have listened to it more and even followed what it said in as far as trying to stay in my chosen career of teaching.

It is damn hard to be surrounded all day by children of any age when yours is dead. There are so many rapidly identified triggers and then there are the sneaky ones that you never anticipated, yet they both bring you to instant tears and anger.

You can’t teach when you’re crying or angry or both all the time.

Pushing aside my own trauma and triggers there’s plenty to be crying and angry about. It compounds the tiredness of my already weary and overloaded body and brain.

I’m in the wrong place. I chose to transfer campuses because I recalled with such fondness teaching younger students. I loved the buzz and the activity of an elementary classroom. I loved the silly stories they share, their unique look into how this crazy old world works, the incredible moment when I’ve really taught them something and they have really learned it. It’s magical. Elementary school is magical.

This year is not magical. My own flaws are hideous and puncturing into the magical force field that should protect my students and my classroom. Their innocence of what childhood should be like gets ripped away more and more every day. Everyone is hollering it’s covid, they’ve never had a normal school year. These things are true but that’s not 100% the culprit.

This year I’ve been hit by students, my classroom is destroyed by students on a weekly if not daily basis, things have been stolen from me in plain sight,, students have come to school without supplies, but when given the needed supplies they immediately destroy them. They come to school unbathed and in dirty clothes. They come to school abused and hurt. They lash out, they say mean and horrible things to one another. The vulgarity of their actions and vocabulary is the same as a hardened and crude adult. I don’t think it’s a covid issue. Covid might have amplified it, but this is not covid.

All those behaviors are an indirect trigger for me. I have such a hard time watching children behave this way everyday. I was told I need to normalize these behaviors. I cannot and will not make this normal. I cannot provide the wanted excuse to say this is okay. It is not okay.

Inside I am screaming these are precious gifts. Do you not realize what you have here? Do you know how much love, nurturing, accountability they need? Do you know that you are failing them? Do you know the hurt if one of them is lost?

I answer all of the questions in a whisper “I do.”

Where do I go from here?