The Things I Didn't Expect To Miss

How’s everyone doing?

Pretty lukewarm if I were to hazard a guess, having just been given our third official lockdown instruction, only this time with the unwelcome addition of a somewhat confusing message from Boris Johnson about what we now can and can’t do, which, as you would expect, seems to have sparked a whole new wave of flouting of social distancing measures.  This week has seen people gather in groups to share picnics in the parks,  participate in large group outdoor games and even host garden parties.  In fact most didn’t even bother waiting for Sunday’s much anticipated “roadmap” out of lockdown announcement and were enjoying pre-emptive gatherings all over London during last weekend’s bank holiday.  

And with a new weekend upon us and a decent weather forecast, this seems likely to end, only in tears.  I have had various tense interactions with friends and family members in recent weeks, mainly due to differing opinions about social distancing.  Whilst in most circumstances I am certainly not someone who favours excessive rules, especially not draconian ones like those of recent weeks, this is one rule that I fully back.  Like everyone, I recognise that this, of course, is a pretty shitty situation.  Humans are social creatures and believe me, as a single person, who lives alone and would ordinarily be spending this time of year in full social swing (I am a Leo after all), I am taking it hard.  But this is one rule that is there for one big and very valid reason.  We have already seen that after an initial drop, the infection rate has just risen and I can’t help but worry that with this new lack of clarity caused by the (unpopular opinion) ill-informed ease of lockdown, it will continue to rise and we will be placed on a more severe lockdown for longer than we might have been had we just continued to respect the initial lockdown guidelines.

So despite the grim reality of what the world is battling, like many others, I am trying to put on a brave face and keep up to date with the news as much as I can bear.  And regardless of my views on the importance of lockdown, my deepest sympathies of course go out to all of the businesses in every sector that are diminishing under the dark cloud of the pervasive virus.  But last Sunday, there was one message and one message only that I was waiting for and that was the announcement of when schools in the UK will likely reopen, because never in all my years teaching did I expect to miss school quite this much.

Yesterday I was talking with my colleagues at our daily Zoom department catch up, and whilst sharing anecdotes from our day’s teaching, one shared something that a student had expressed his current feelings as “Miss, I’m school sick”.  

 This was just too much to take, it broke my heart a little.  Not only for that particular student, or even for all of our gorgeous young people who are anxiously waiting at home, trying their best to  navigate this unknown.  But also, selfish as it may sound, for me too.  Because I realised at that moment, that what he articulated is exactly what I am feeling.

It is the reason that I am always in a better mood after I have finished teaching an online class.  It is the reason that I have come to love Zoom and all its innovative functions that make my lessons better despite all my initial misgivings and struggles.  It is the reason that I seem to be checking my work emails at all hours of the day (ones that previously had a strict 6pm cut off time).

And it is the reason that I am joining as many other teachers classes, online assemblies and events as I can as well as emailing the students constantly just to check in.  I even found myself the first viewer on one of my ex students' live instagram story this week as she did a live from lockdown musical performance, clearly eagerly looking for any contact with something related to school.

I am, it would seem, completely and utterly school sick.  

To manage my feelings, I have been taking solace in much of the incredible content that the internet is offering us in these dark times and am attempting to celebrate what we still have rather than long for what we don’t.  For me, someone who does an inspiring job of this is Mari Andrew, a brilliant New York based artist and writer, whose work brings comfort to me at the best of times.  Now, at the worst of times, her writing is even more precious.  Her most recent project, Things I Miss, has inspired the following:

 I miss the pulsing headache that I always had on a Tuesday afternoon from the energy expended after I’d taught my class of 26 music students and negotiated an hour of their love for conversation, overflowing enthusiasm, laughter and spirit. 

 I miss the process of getting ready for work: on some days wearing a carefully chosen outfit, blow drying my hair and applying mascara with absolute precision and on others feeling like just a shower and an outfit that didn’t resemble loungewear was an achievement.  

I miss the heaviness of a bag weighed down by A-Level essays and stationary. 

I miss reading my book on my 24 stop commute on the district line until I fall asleep.

I miss the reassuringly familiar faces of my tutor group, especially the early ones who are always ready to greet me with a smile and endless optimism every morning.

I miss my amazing colleagues who I am proud to call my friends and especially having the privilege of sitting in the staff room next to one of the best humans I know for 10 hours a day and knowing everything about each other. 

But mostly, I miss the unexpected magic that happens every day when you are blessed to be in the presence of the minds of incredible young people.

Don’t get me wrong, the slower pace and the gain time is nice.  I’m certainly not as tired as I would be at this point in a normal school year.  But do I prefer it?  I would swap it in an instant to be back in my classroom, teaching my amazing classes.  I now know more than ever that the fatigue is worth it. 

As I wrote in my last post, our young people need us.  They need the routine, the normality and the stability that school offers them.  So I am grateful for our ability to stay connected through technology and whilst it will never be the same as real human contact, for now, I cherish our online lessons, meetings and social events.

We are still here.  We are still learning and still having fun.  But most importantly we are all in this together, we will get through this together and life as we once knew it will return.