Dear Teacher Faking It,
I come from a long line of storytellers. My mother is one of the best storytellers I know. One of my favorite stories she tells is being a child and selling turnips in her front yard. She and my aunt set up a turnip stand the way some children might set up a lemonade stand.
In green Crayola marker, they even crafted a homemade sign advertising, “Turnips $2 a bunch.”
Their prices would have been a major steal had they been selling actual turnips and not a mere pile of weeds. Amused by their childish antics, an older gentleman and his sweet wife stopped by their stand one afternoon to make a pretend purchase. The gig was up. The two girls ran for the woods in shame.
For our family, this “selling turnips” notion is the equivalency of faking it until you make it. It’s pretending you have something to sell even if it’s only a pile of weeds.
This year it seems many teachers are selling turnips, faking it, if you will. They’re faking answers in the midst of confusion, peace in spite of fear, and mostly, passion even when they’ve lost their STEAM.
In light of all the tragedy in the world, it sounds silly to admit, but many teachers are simply bored senseless this year. There is very little to break up the monotony. No field trips, assemblies, parties, or pep rallies. All of it was gone in an instant. In its place is a relentless loop of boredom- Ground Hog Day meets The Breakfast Club.
When will it end?
I miss schools being communities of social interaction and hands-on learning. I know you do too.
It’s enough to make a teacher want to dart off for the woods, but please don’t.
After all, pretend school is still better than shutdown school, so keep faking a smile if it's all you can do to keep from crying.
As this same mom who sold the fake turnips once told me, "If you act like you are a thing long enough, you'll actually become it."
Using her logic maybe if we keep pretending this is a real school year, it will become one.
Still, I’m ready for real turnips again.
Aren't you?
-CDB