Dear Hurricane-Tired Teacher,
Not that anyone is looking for blog tips in the midst of hurricane recovery, but suppose a person was looking for a few pointers, I have a few thoughts. Here is a very quick way to lose momentum. First, go on and pledge yourself to write 180 posts in one school year. Then two days later find yourself waking up to no electricity and 90 mph winds in the midst of a Category 2 hurricane that was supposed to hit somewhere other than a little blue dot on the map that looks a lot like your culdesac.
Like others, we had some water leak into our living room from the weather stripping that was blown off our French doors. We also had some missing shingles and siding from our chimney. A bonus, our fence was bowed out and for a solid three hours, there was a tiny drip from the ceiling hitting our kitchen table- each drip an echoing reminder that "this is not good...not good."
It's funny the sights you see after a hurricane in the Panhandle. It reminds me of one of those pictures in a Highlights magazine where the reader has to spot images that are out of sorts. Here are a few. Our neighbor's tree is bulged up by the roots and resting sideways. Also, our barbeque grill lid is in the pool, and our boys' trampoline is now resting upright in our neighbor's yard.
As for the parts not found in a magazine, we have no power, no generator, no cell reception, and no water, which is why we decided to get the heck out of town pretty dang quickly. Thank the Lord for Buccee's. God forgive me for all the times I said, "Why in the world would a gas station need a 123 pumps?" because sweet Lord Jesus, we found gas on pump number 119, and it made all the difference.
Because of that celestial pump, I am now typing on my phone in Biloxi, MS, from the spare bedroom of my 92 year old grandmother-in-law who generously allowed us to evacuate to her home with power. She left Monday thinking the storm was coming to her. Oh the irony! These storms are tricky. You think you have a plan and you are safe. Then a small tilt in latitude shifts your perspective in ways you never imagined.
And perhaps, if we are looking closely, this absurd weather is really nothing more than a great big, metaphorical analogy of our school year. Think about it. Images out of sorts- kids in masks, water fountains covered, barrier tape between teachers and students. Some folks have it worse than others, but everyone is affected. There's also this pervasive idea that you've got it all figured out, only to be blindsided by the fact that you don't.
But if we have learned anything from being hurricane- lifer's, it's that we help our neighbors, clean up the mess, express gratitude, and resume life in the most beautiful place on earth with the best people on the planet.
We'll do the same in education, won't we? The storms will rage through the night. Then when it's finally dawn, we'll allow small tilts in latitude to shift our perspectives in ways we never imagined. There's no other choice, is there?
-CDB