A Wolf on the Wind: Seeking Shelter from the Anxiety in Our New Reality
Today, here, alone in my classroom, empty of kids, my anxiety creeps into the void.
And I fear I feel a tremble. Slight. Subtle. But it’s there. I feel it.
I feel it in the frantic, frenetic moments of preparation before the day’s online launch, as I cross my fingers, hoping that nothing goes wrong.
I feel it from the disconnected distance across the screen, as I weigh their eyes and mouths, wondering if I am only imagining their presence.
I feel its palpable pallor as I see my colleagues, masking their mouths and misery, our common company.
I feel it in my foundation as I wake to the wind on the day’s horizon, threatening my stoic stand, sure that it’s only the “obstacle in the way.”
I feel it. I fear it.
I face it. We all do. We have to. We are teachers. What else would we do, could we do? So much depends on our steady stand as the winds swirl around our house of cards.
I feel a fear. And though I will put on my mask today for my kids, my colleagues–myself, inside I feel a fear that we may get swept away. There’s a wolf on the wind.
Tomorrow, there, alone in my classroom, empty of kids, my search will stir my spirit.
And I will sense a strength. Sonorous. Solid. It will be there. And I will find it.
I will find it in the confident comfort of inspiration before the day’s connection with kids, as I smile my greeting, warming the welcoming moments of our day.
I will find it in the connected transcendence despite the distance in our medium, as I wonder at the human bonds where our presence meets.
I will find it in the wise words of my colleagues whose voices resonate above and beyond the muffled reality, our courageous chorus
I will find it in my foundation as I welcome the wind on the day’s horizon, strengthening my stoic stand, grateful for the “obstacle in the way.”
I will find it.
We all will. We have to. We are teachers. What else would we, could we do? So much depends on our steady stand as the winds struggle against our house of bricks.
