The Third Trimester Game Plan

Wednesday night, I took Maeve and her cousin to dance and, at 8:00, after twenty minutes of being home, I took my pillow into the guest room, ignored everyone, and cried myself to sleep.

I had had enough that day.

Enough begging children to listen to me.

Enough emails about what more needs to be done by me, what form I need to fill out, what morning meeting I need to wake my own children up early to attend.

Enough of the phone ringing constantly, interrupting lessons, interrupting me, interrupting the learning environment I naively try my damnedest to create every day.

Enough exerting all of my energy to engage 33 students in every lesson every day whilst simultaneously ensuring that everyone is making growth.

This is a year like no other.

Teachers are flat exhausted and the thought of another trimester to go is paralyzing.

The children in our schools are in need of so much more than we can give them by ourselves.

And, I care about the students. I always have. But I care most right now about the teachers. Because without teachers, the students will have no one to lead them.

Honestly? The teachers I know are so tired that they don’t even have enough energy left to advocate for change.

Here’s What We’re Doing and Not Doing…..

1. We’re Going Outside More

I teach in Michigan. The kids are kept inside for recess if the “feels like” temperature is lower than 11 degrees, which has been, like, all but four of the days in January and February.

Indoor recess in a small classroom in the middle of a pandemic with thirty-plus tween bodies is a cluster. It’s fifteen minutes of the poor noon-aide in charge silently reciting The Lord’s Prayer that the clock moves quickly and the teacher chokes down her salad and gets her ass back in the classroom to regain normalcy.

This week, we went outside on a day the Sun was shining and it was life-giving. My students were playing tag and football and kickball and smiling and screaming and chasing each other.

They’ve made friends with other students they didn’t know at the beginning of the year and they have nicknames for each other and inside jokes which make them feel connected.

I walked the playground, jammed my hands in my coat pockets and thought to myself, “They are babies. They didn’t even get to finish third grade. They missed months with other kids. There is no lesson that can replace this. I don’t give a shit what’s on the lesson plan right now. We’re playing outside.”

I spoke with a parent on the phone last week who told me, “Mrs. Meyer? My son told me he has friends for the first time at school. He never felt like he fit in and now he has friends in the class and he says he loves going to school.”

This child was playing tag the other day with a smile on his face while his friends screamed his nickname and ran from him, giggling.

We’re taking them outside more.

They’re kids.

They’ve spent months inside apartment buildings, trailer parks, living rooms and crowded classrooms. They need to play and Jesus knows we all need the blessed Vitamin D.

2. We’re Saying “No” To Extras

My sister is a teacher in a neighboring district and was telling me that her PTC suggested they (the teachers) throw the graduating elementary class a glow dance, decorate their yards with special lawn signs, and some other thing that would be done outside of contractual hours. (Glowing is all the rage in elementary schools right now. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, adding glow sticks to things makes them better.)

Another teacher I know was telling me parents wanted their elementary-school-aged children to go to an overnight camp. Like, an overnight camp which the teachers take them to.

People.

Let’s get serious here.

Friday morning, one of my students walked in the room at 8:50 sporting a mustache drawn on his face with marker.

Some folks in my class are still struggling with the concept of “Take a paper and hand it back.” I’ll put six copies of a worksheet on the person’s desk in the front of the row and that person will sit and hold on to the whole pile. At one point, I even modeled how to take a paper for oneself, pivot one’s body, smile, and hand the remaining stack to the person behind.

No can do. It’s March and people are still playing, “I didn’t get one.” And then I have to say, “Lily, can you please not use all six papers? Remember how we take one and pass it back?”

So, I’m completely confident in my decision to say “nope” to having glow dances, camping trips, and lavish get-togethers now that we’re entering the third year of a pandemic. And the liability of all of that? Negative.

This opinion doesn’t win me a lot of friends. And I’m okay with that. I get it. Parents want their kids to have fun. But here’s the thing. I physically have no energy left to invest in the extras right now. Maybe one day when schools are funded properly and the mental health crisis is appropriately addressed and schools aren’t the only fixtures in the community raising these kids, we can add back in some of the extras. But for now?

No.

It has nothing to do with me being a b$$$$ or not liking kids. It has everything to do with me knowing my energy is finite and it is gone by dismissal.

Me saying “no” to the extras is me saying “yes” to myself, my own children, my family, and my well-being.

Me saying “no” to the glow dance is me saying “yes” to showing up on Monday morning with the composure and ability to lead us all through another day.

Please let me give you permission to let the guilt go.

The community needs to take very seriously that they also have a responsibility to their children. Teachers cannot raise these children without help from everyone around them.

You are not a bad teacher if, this year, you say no to a tradition which seems overwhelming to you.

You’re an empowered and educated human being.

Please, families, have a glow dance at your own place for everyone. Take the neighborhood kids camping. Oh? The thought of coordinating a camping trip for the whole neighborhood seems exhausting and overwhelming?

I hear you.

3. We’re Not Accepting Blame For Things We Can’t Control

My kids and I took turns contracting every illness possible in January and February. We had Covid, the flu, pinkeye, coughs, colds, ear infections, and Mark even had a tooth pulled for good measure. It got to the point where I was doling out meds and setting up diffusers with eucalyptus oils like an official colonial apothecary.

My husband and I always divide and conquer days where we have to stay home with sick kids, but even then, I felt a twinge of guilt start to rise to the surface because I was receiving sub reports that my class was less than perfect, to say the least.

Thankfully, I’ve had enough therapy and listened to enough self-empowerment podcasts to have checked myself.

It is not my fault if a roomful of ten year olds who are not my biological— or adopted—children, for that matter, misbehave for another adult individual who I may or may not know but most definitely do not have control of.

Release that.

Your students are not a direct reflection of you.

That’s gaslighting.

It’s a way to place blame on the wrong person.

Pretty sure if I would have run my mouth to the sub, Mr. Richard, sophomore year Spanish in Ms. McCarron’s class, it wouldn’t have been a reflection on her.

It would have been a damn direct reflection of me.

Mary Ellen gave me one warning in that class.

If she got another call that I was being disrespectful, I’d have to find another place to live.

Drastic, obviously, but I got the message.

I was the kid.

It didn’t matter if I was bored with a review worksheet or I had a bad morning. It was made clear to me that the adults in charge deserved to be treated respectfully.

Let’s hold the correct individuals accountable here.

We’ve swung so drastically to the other side of the accountability pendulum that the only people being held accountable are the teachers. Let’s hold the other key players accountable as well.

4. Schedule Routine Maintenance

If your dentist tells you you’re due for an appointment in March, schedule an appointment in March. No more waiting for the next break or just bypassing all doctor’s appointments until summer.

Mammograms, mental health sessions, eye exams, teeth cleanings, chiropractor visits because you’ve lost feeling in your arm?

Schedule them and take a day to take care of yourself.

This is truly revolting, but I’ve been dealing with warts on my hands for the last nine months. The dermatologist’s office is open 8-3. So, cheers. The warts are literally taking over my hands. I have to get them treated and I don’t have a flexible scheduling option as part of my benefits package, so I have to take off to get them treated. I refuse to compromise my own health.

You’re worth it.

Ignoring your own needs “for the kids” isn’t helping anyone (including the kids) except the people who want the whole teacher-martyr complex to continue.

Share this with another teacher. Check in with that teacher this week. Remind her or him that s/he’s not alone in this.

Go outside this week.

Say no to something that is sending you over the edge.

And, by God, do not accept responsibility for things that are out of your control.