This is Part 2; I wrote Part 1 last week. Part 2 was very hard to write. I don’t know how many of these I will write as we find ourselves tentatively edging along an unknown path. But let’s edge along this path together. There is no way back.
When this has passed, we won’t ever forget how much we love our kids. How their clatter and chatter is part of the clockwork of our days. How their smiles are woven into our daily life; their lives our lives, their worries our worries, their joys our joys. When this has passed, we won’t forget this past week – this branding of sadness, these tears manacled by distance. We won’t forget the exam build up that never was. We won’t forget the pre-exam calming words that weren’t said, or the frantic conversations in a future that won’t happen as they tumble onto the playground after the last exam, their futures rolling ahead like scrolls. We won’t forget the joy and swish of prom in a watercoloured, fading future that now doesn’t exist. Those August envelopes forever unopened, the seals unbroken in an empty, sun-moted school hall.
When this has passed, let’s not forget the courage and compassion of head teachers guiding us through impossible seas. Leaders selflessly taking on the unknown and the terrifying, David to a multiplying Goliath. When this has passed, let’s not forget their courage; let’s not forget that they feel fear too, and that this fear is an ever-sharpened blade, poised, razor-sharp, Damoclean. When this has passed, let’s continue to check that they’re OK.
When this has gone, let’s remember the joy nestling in the everyday. In stepping out of the front door, in ballooning our lungs with air, the jubilation in Thich Nhat Hanh’s dandelion smiling its wondrous smile. The triumph in limpet hugs and in handholds that are possibility made manifest. Let’s remember the stoic, the upset, those that use humour to help, those that absorb fears. The myriad range of human emotion and the bedrock of humanity in all its cherished wonderment. Us. We. Let’s remember us all, now and when this has gone.
When this has gone, let’s look back at our kids this year and remember their brilliance. Let’s toss aside any preconceived thoughts about state kids and ‘what they can do’ and pull back to the anchor of exceptional as the norm. Whether it’s exceptional kindness, or writing, or thoughtfulness, or speaking in French – exceptional is for everyone. We’ll get back to that, together, when this has gone.
When this ends, let’s remember that we pulled through as one. That humankind is capable of far, far more than we might think. That there are kindnesses that bind us and tenderness that guides us, and, when we’re facing the unfaceable, ideology crumbles at the guiding hand of compassion.
When this has passed. Until then and beyond then, let’s continue to do all of this. We are all we can be, so let’s keep edging forward. Here – take my hand.
Image from Getty
Birmingham Teacher 