Dear Sad Teacher,
It’s okay to be sad. It’s been a rough week. This dreary weather isn’t helping matters. You thought by now things would be different. I did too.
You’re still waiting on that rainbow that promises better days. The looming clouds mock you.
At this point, it’s about more than an empty row of desks from yet another quarantined group. It’s about more than any one specific thing. It’s the sum of everything mixed together to form a ball of plain, old-fashioned, down-to-the-bone sadness.
The soggy, surgical mask floating in a mud puddle in the parking lot serves as a symbol for how you feel right now- spent, done, sad.
The hopes you dared to dream seem shattered. The flip of the calendar reminds you that February isn’t much better than January, which truthfully, was even worse than December.
You don’t want to be depressed. Nobody likes a sad sack, but all the fight is gone.
Even a pep talk with yourself isn’t going to cut it. Not this time.
And no, you don’t want to hear advice from anyone, especially a Polyanna blogger, which is precisely why I’m not going to say grant yourself permission to be sad, really sad. I’m also not going to add that sadness isn’t a sign of weakness, a lack of faith, or failure because if I did that, I might also add that to be sad is to be human.
Then I would feel compelled to follow up with the ever- generic, you’re not alone in your sadness. And everyone knows a phrase like that makes people want to punch someone, throw up, or yell obscenities.
So, I won’t say any of that. After all, I’m sad too, and sucker punches don’t usually heal broken hearts.
Therefore, in lieu of advice, I think I’d prefer to make a request.
If it would be alright with you, could we simply sit together in our sadness without any words?
-CDB