Small Ways to Make a Splash and Smile at the Beginning of the Year

 

The first week of school can feel overwhelming. Emotions run high as students and staff learn new rules, set goals for the year, and meet new people. A prevailing feeling of exhaustion and vocal fatigue flood the faculty office as teachers help students to transition back to a school year pace. 

I transitioned to a new role and school in the same district this year. Navigating this change has presented considerable challenges. Even though many faces are familiar and routines are the same, I am not quite at home in my new surroundings. Several students are also feeling out of place during this uncharted school year. How do we help our students feel acclimated to their surroundings? How do we support staff in connecting with their students, schedules, and school-year pace? 

Regardless of our role in the school system, we must remember that we communicate a great deal with our actions and words. Our messaging becomes our mantra as we establish a culture in our classrooms and across the school. As we work to build a positive school culture, it's important to reflect on what we can tangibly do to improve the culture and climate of our school. 

On day two of the new school year, I co-led a breakout session on belonging with my principal, who is also new. Of course, the two fresh faces in the faculty are the ones talking about what it means to belong to our community. I showed a video of the ultimate pool slam dunk to hook my colleagues into the conversation. Nearly a dozen teens working together to create an epic trick shot reinforces the power of collaboration and the importance of making any experience exciting. Teens will spend hours perfecting a basketball pass. Why? Because it is fun. The experience brings them together to complete an incredible feat. We can capture that same energy by challenging our students to see the possibilities in their experiences within our walls.  

It all starts with time and space to adjust. 

At the beginning of the year, to-do lists are long. Adjusting syllabi, refining the curriculum, and preparing for students takes careful thought and effort. Several of these to-do list items help a teacher feel ready to start the year. As such, teachers need time to work. They also need time to reconnect with colleagues who may have gone in different directions over the summer. That time to reconnect holds even more value than the preparation for class - at least for veteran teachers. I am fortunate to have an incredibly experienced crew of teachers, and creating space to share about their summer reenergizes the team and makes coming back to school enjoyable. 

That energy then translates to students who are also given time and space to adjust to a new schedule in the first few days. 

As someone new to my school, I have taken the time to walk the halls, be visible, and meet one-on-one with staff. Time with them helps me recalibrate to my new space and feel like part of their team. These connections help people feel important and seen. Showing genuine interest in others establishes a sense of trust and camaraderie. 

With our students, we must build the same sense of camaraderie by promoting a sense of belonging. Creative icebreakers involving collaboration and problem-solving help everyone feel like a team member. Carefully planned low-risk activities have a lasting impact and unite groups of students. Early in my career, I was worried about teaching content immediately. Now, giving space for students to adapt to their new surroundings pays off in dividends throughout the semester. There is time for content, but first, we make connections. 

How do we make those connections? Show up.

Being present in a given moment is the greatest way to create meaningful connections. When we genuinely stop to listen to others - teachers or students - they feel valued and seen. When we are visible, we show that we are invested in the people and the community to which we all belong. 

While it is easy to become caught up in to-do lists and the bustle of a brand new semester, it is important that when with people, we slow down. When someone enters my office or starts a conversation, my to-do list is immediately out of my mind. The most important person in my purview is the person standing in front of me. The to-do list isn't going anywhere! Allow yourself to stop and cherish moments with others because those bonds will make tough days better and the best days unforgettable. 

Even in the toughest moments or when we feel pulled in multiple directions. Another way to make a splash is to be real.

Being present in the moment is powerful, and so is being authentic. Not every day is great, or experience the most exciting one around. It is absolutely acceptable to wear your heart on your sleeve and share your story. When we tell our story, we create space for others to do the same. We all have different strengths to bring to a school community. When we can identify and share our strengths with others, we promote a collaborative community that recognizes and values each person. 

Transitioning to a new school brings challenges. Even when moments are difficult, I am finding ways to be authentic and embrace my strengths. From discussing blended learning to troubleshooting projectors, I have discovered numerous reasons to smile. I have much to learn from my new people and surroundings, and I'm ready to plunge into the deep end of the 23-24 school year. 

Caring Beyond Fear: A Caregiver's Path to Healing

Attending a CF clinic involves a revolving door of doctors, including the pulmonologist, nurses, geneticists, nutritionists, social workers, and more. While we don’t need those specialists for every quarterly appointment, their presence offers essential ongoing support for Jordan’s care.

For the first two and a half years of Jordan’s life, we made it a point to be present at every appointment. Whether monthly or quarterly, we tag-teamed these experiences to support each other, learn everything about Jordan’s disease, and present as a united front. For years, Josh and I have attempted to keep in the giggles when the social worker, who mostly helps us with insurance and advocacy, attempted to therapize us while playing with Jordan during appointments. Our strong bond and willingness to openly express our emotions made us feel ready to handle any challenge we faced with Jordan’s health. When times have been tough, we have never shied away from embracing our feelings and felt ready to cope with what came next.

However, the onset of COVID introduced an unexpected plot twist. Hospital restrictions and the general fear for the health and safety of our family meant that only one of us could attend Jordan’s appointments. Suddenly our confidence in navigating Jordan’s health wavered. We stopped seeing close family and shut ourselves up from the world long after isolation restrictions were lifted. Masked and distanced, we stopped hugging people and set boundaries that involved not eating in a restaurant or traveling until halfway through 2023.

My solace during this time was pouring ourselves into work and our community. While I couldn’t physically be with friends, family, and colleagues, I could show up for each and every person by supporting their technology needs, researching and sharing best teaching practices, and giving small gifts and cards at every opportunity. I became so entrenched in serving others that I quieted my fear by giving more.

Reflecting on the aftermath of the pandemic, I still find myself unpacking the trauma that COVID left behind. Jordan began taking Trikafta - the miracle drug that means his life expectancy tripled and then some. The fears and anxieties that held me captive for three years and three months started to release because I no longer had to jump after coughing or sniffling. The end of the school year meant I could find peace and fully reenter a world I had kept my family from for years out of necessity. Despite the progress of the world around me and the medication that finally meant that Jordan would be able to handle a cold - or COVID - with some normalcy, my head and my heart began to find conflict.

Serving and supporting others is a worthy and honorable pursuit, but when it is used to quell fear and anxiety, it becomes a stopgap in coping with trauma and fear. I moved the goalpost to process the grief and loss I felt during 2020 and the years that followed, in which my family still had to follow careful COVID protocols as we waited for Jordan to become old enough to take Trikafta.

These last few years, I have worked to be the best mom by compensating for what my children missed out on by making elaborate virtual birthday parties and by filling their every second with activities and action. I worked on being the best teacher, coach, and colleague by making sure that I could anticipate every person’s needs and provide them with every bit of support they could possibly need. I wrote over a thousand cards and baked my body weight in chocolate chip cookies. These actions gave me purpose and direction but did not calm my anxiety or help me move forward from pandemic life.

 
While I started moving about the school like normal and engaged with others for work purposes only, I still felt uneasy about the germs I was exposing myself to daily. I worried constantly and made sure that I didn’t get sick. We still haven’t tested positive for COVID, although I am pretty sure we had COVID in May - when I had the most significant panic attack of my life. Still, these flashes of fear continue to hit me - when I smell smoke or hear accessive coughing. I am still worried that I will make my immunocompromised child sick if I get sick. Now I get it. I understand why caretakers are often carefully watched by medical professionals. I know that I must rediscover the balance between what my head logically knows to be true and the pain my body feels from the pandemic living to the present.

The journey toward healing remains ongoing. Being a caretaker of a young child with health concerns that could escalate from zero to 100 in minutes. I will continue to navigate what this new sense of normalcy means for my family and the peace that it promises to bring.

The journey of a far-too-caring caregiver is one of constant adaptation. It is a challenging path, and it is sometimes hard to find balance. I am starting a new journey, one that is pushing me out of my safe space. As I start this school year, I hope to authentically be myself to open myself up to new people and new experiences. While I still am trying to shake off the fears I internalized during the past three-plus years, I hope to redirect my anxieties with purpose and find new people to pour into - not because I’m trying to survive but because I genuinely want to learn, grow, and make a difference. COVID amplified the challenges of many and certainly magnified my fears. While healing is not a linear process, I aim to move forward stronger and more resilient. I am no longer in survival mode. I can finally step forward and reclaim a little bit of peace as I start a promising school year.