Dear Vaccinated Teacher,
You may not be vaccinated yet, but by tomorrow morning, you could be. This week was a frenzy in our school district as live links for vaccination sites became a game of the fastest fingers. It felt like waiting for concert tickets to be released, which, coincidentally, we are also one step closer to attending.
Earlier in the week, the vaccine was only available to Florida educators who were 50 or older/ in the vulnerable population. Within a day, the threshold was lowered to any educator regardless of age. This quick shift reminded me of this time a year ago when news updates were firing and changing by the minute, only this time they are for the good. I like “for the good” way better.
This time last year we were still in school with rumblings of Corona…as we called it back when I thought it was a high school joke about a spring break drinking game I was not privy to because of my age. Then came the harsh reality that it wasn’t a joke at all. Crowds were limited to 100, which raised an eyebrow regarding our faculty meeting of 125. Then, we were limited to crowds of 50, then 10, then it was…stay home altogether. This was way before masks became trendy and fashionable, but we don’t have to rehash it. I know you were there too.
I’m only taking a stroll down memory lane because I don’t want to forget that was less than a year ago, and tomorrow afternoon at 2:55, I will roll up my sleeve to take the Moderna vaccine that will hopefully help us all inch one step closer to normal, if normal even exists anymore.
I’m hoping this vaccine protects me from getting COVID in the future. I have been one of the fortunate souls to escape it all year. I hope it also gives me the opportunity to attend an SEC football game, or go to a movie, or have a simple family Christmas party, but I am also keenly aware of what it won’t do for me.
It won’t keep me from staring at a flag flown at half mast for the 500,000 people who never got the chance to roll up a sleeve. It won’t cause me to forget what I remember so well right now, and it won’t give me a false sense that I am impervious to death or that I can wait until tomorrow to do what I know I should do today- like tickling my nephew just to hear him laugh, kissing my momma for all the people who can’t, praying with my children because it’s still a scary world, or hugging my sister because I’m blessed to have one. I'm not a research junkie. Truthfully, I have no idea what’s in the vaccine that will be injected into my arm in less than 24 hours, but I do know what it won’t have. It won’t have the ability to make me a more patient, grateful, sympathetic, or humble person. No, those traits can only come from taking the time to look around to see what really matters. It has been a tough year no doubt, but it’s also been a good one for learning, and isn’t that the main objective for any teacher?
-CDB
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