Under Pressure

I am still teaching in an era of COVID.  Somehow the weeks flew by and we tumbled into the second semester of school.  This week another layer of intensity was added when our students returned four days a week -- a decision made more complicated by the fact we are housed in a building with high school students who are still only attending two days a week.  Preparing for the change included room changes, schedule changes, technology changes, and more.  We're a few days in and I feel ok.  I'm still tired and overwhelmed and feel like I can never really get ahead, but we've had moments where I've actually felt like a decent teacher.  

To accommodate our returning students I was moved across the building into an unused classroom, and while it has taken me farther away from my teammates it's also tucked me into a quiet little area and I'm feeling encouraged by the solitude.  Although I'm being mindful to not disrupt anything in the room that isn't mine, I'm starting to create a little nest of my own.  Yesterday I was sitting quietly getting some work done when one of the building principals walked by and nodded my way; she then turned and came in to ask how I was doing.  I answered honestly and said it's been very hard but I've been dealing with it the best I could.  She remarked that in the hallway or in meetings she senses I'm having a difficult time and it has worried her.  We chatted for a moment more and she headed on her way.

Her comment surprised me.  Admittedly I've spoken up in a meeting or two about concerns because I sadly can't always keep my yap shut.  I also find I move with a lot more urgency lately since it often feels like a race to get it all done and still get home at a decent hour to recharge.  I do my best to speak my mind without losing my cool, and coworkers have remarked that I come across as quite laid-back.  I always make the effort to keep a neutral face, but apparently the stress of recent times has gotten the best of me.  

On the one hand, I appreciated the concern.  On the other, I didn't appreciate coming across as on the verge of collapse because teaching is a profession where that's just not acceptable.  We have been encouraged over and over to engage in self-care and that we can only do what we can do, but then something new is thrown our way and suddenly only doing what we can do isn't enough.  Students and parents have been so kind and shown us so much grace this year, but there is still this undercurrent of pressure to make things happen.  I've worked harder than ever this year and yet it still feels like I'm trying to fill the ocean a teaspoon at a time.

I also had to remind myself that my full plate isn't all about school.  I had so much hope that 2020 would be our year, but it's proven to really be no one's year.  What if 2021 also goes by and we are still childless?  After the chaos and tumult of these last several months it would mean so much to have that joyful resolution, and even though the new year hasn't begun I'm already worried about how it will end.  I had hoped to be on a maternity leave this year, so now I have to change my mindset and tell myself to look forward to it next year.  How many more times can I tell myself that it will all be ok "next year"?