Today's a big day for teachers here in Florida.
Many will return to their campuses and classrooms.
Classrooms that are empty now,
that may be filled in just three weeks,
with a school board vote pending,
won't be student-filled for another 12 weeks.
I'm not an educator, though I was raised by one, and so was she.
I'm not an educator, but many of my friends are.
I'm not an educator, but I'm worried about each and every one of them.
I'm worried that today's return to their brick and mortar, will pack a punch -- not of excitement but to the gut.
Because this pandemic-plagued year will look and feel different.
Don't get me wrong; it will still be amazing for students who choose to return because teachers are fudgin' stellar like that and can make magic from mold.
BUT it won't be the same.
There will be distancing, where there once was bridging.
There will be keeping apart, where there was once coming together.
There will be
Guidelines that don't really "guide," but force these
and compassionate teachers to step back and away from the effective hands-on approach they know and love for one quite a bit more methodical and safe.
They'll do it because they have to, and for them, they'd rather be with their students under less than favorable circumstances than not at all, and that, well, it's hella commendable.
As is the decision to teach via e-learning or to leave the profession in the name of safety.
Nothing about this school year is going to be easy, except for every empathetic human in this world feeling uber-amounts of gratitude and respect for every teacher on this planet, especially those heading back to work today.
Godspeed and remember that you are
And whether or not my kid is in your classroom or in the make-shift one we've created at home, I'm here for you in any way I can be.
So reach the hell out and let me support you.
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