Dear Teacher Who Buys Groceries:
The pandemic closed schools in our area on Friday, March 13, 2020. For educators across the globe, it was a scary Friday, which is saying something. Veteran teachers don't get rattled by much.
We've lived through some crazy days: head lice, pizza parties, field trips, Red Bulls, daylight savings, picture day, full moons, fidget spinners, bottle flipping, kickball injuries, and Tik Tok.
In addition to weathering the chaos of adolescence, we've taught through a host of natural disasters, Field Day, for one, and who remembers that crazy solar eclipse, where we were advised to not let our kids look directly at the sun? Am I the only person who thinks there must have been at least one little punk who locked eyes with that ball of fire against our warnings, and that's how COVID showed up on the scene? It's worth an investigation.
We also taught through Y2K, which turned out to be a hoax, like we thought COVID would be. Then there was the freaky Florida ice storm a few years ago that, unfortunately, did not freeze our innocent way of life forever.
COVID, well, she's been a beast. When school closed in the spring we were initially slated to be closed for two weeks. It turned into three months. Nobody could have guessed the impact of those months.
We were robbed of so much. They were robbed of even more.
There's a quote I love from the play, Othello. I can't remember who said it, but I know it was one of the good guys. He said, "The robbed who smiles steals something from the thief." I've always loved that line. Maybe, I am personifying COVID in excess when I say she came to steal. Maybe, she wasn't deliberate in her attempts to steal from us at all, but she did it all the same.
But what I will always remember most about those very trying days, and what I am still paying close attention to, are the people who are robbing the thief by smiling. This time the robber isn't the one in the mask. The good guys are the ones hiding their identities. They don't want anyone to see their good deeds, but you can't hide greatness forever.
One of the good guys is the elementary teacher who found out school was closing on March 13th, and in a mere 48 hours, worked in collaboration with donors and a community improvement committee to feed over 200 kids the following Monday. Jeopardizing her own health, she, along with other volunteers, loaded buggies to the brim to help 400 kids and their families have a meal to eat the next week. And when the pandemic lingered on longer, she saw the mission to completion feeding countless students and families week after week.
She is just one of many. This is what teachers do. They carry snacks in their purses for the kid whose parents are late for pick up. They keep a pack of crackers in their desk drawer for the kid who didn't have enough to eat for lunch. They take the time to notice your quirky son likes Strawberry Pockies, and they slip a box in his backpack before he boards the bus. On Fridays, they pass out Skittles and Rice Krispy treats to the well-behaved kids and even to the bad ones who looked at the solar eclipse.
I would venture to say wherever you find a teacher, a snack is in close proximity. I am not sure why this is the case, unless it is that most good teachers understand a soul or mind can't be fed until a body is.
On the weekends when these masked superheroes find themselves on aisle nine at Publix stocking up treats for the week, they keep their eye on the single mother feverishly punching numbers on a worn-out calculator. They memorize the face of the six year old boy who is likely to have a sparse lunch next week. At the checkout line, they kindly ask to pay for the groceries of the lady on aisle nine, the one in the pale green shirt with the yellow stripes holding the hand of the six year old boy. The cashier smiles, nods, and promises to protect the secret.
You won't hear these stories much because good teachers don't broadcast their generous deeds. Maybe I am betraying them to an extent by divulging their secrets now, but hopefully when they see the telling is for a greater good, they will forgive me.
Teachers teach, and through their heroic actions in the midst of insurmountable suffering, they are teaching all of us how to steal from the thief. COVID can't rob us of anything we don't give her. She might take our traditions and comfort, but she can't have our good will and love for humanity.
We steal from her when we learn to be like the teacher who buys groceries for others. She is the ultimate giver.
I hope you'll follow her example and do a little grocery shopping of your own. If you do, try to remember your mask. Otherwise, you will be cuffed and hauled off to prison.
While you're masking up, try to remember you're an undercover agent on a mission to do good. You can't reveal your true identity.
But the real question is will you keep smiling even when nobody can see it?
-CDB