Just 5 minutes ago, I held my 14-month-old daughter, while my 3-year-old son clung to my leg. We waved goodbye to my kindergartener and second grader, before the school bus pulled away.
There was something about the way their faces were framed in the glass. A simple gesture, my oldest pressed his palm flat against the glass, but it took my breath away. All of the stress of the morning rush drained out of me, and I was filled by an overwhelming sense of love.
This morning my husband had the TV news on, which is not the norm in our house. I read the printed newspaper, and then get most of my news online. I prefer it that way. So that I can pick and choose the amount of negativity I want to let into my brain.
But my son’s palm….pure love. So different from the news, where protesters were chanting about wanting dead cops.
This week has been emotional. I have become increasingly passionate and motivated about educating people on the impacts of high-stakes testing on schools. I have been excited by the connections I have made to like-minded people. I have been encouraged by the growing readership of this blog.
On the other hand, I have been touched by tragedies. A few days ago, I looked up my most influential college professor, to share my blog with him, only to find that his son recently went missing in NYC.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter to me that I had 300 views on my blog. My heart ached. I tried to imagine missing one of my own children. That night I closed my computer and took a rest from my obsessive writing, because I just wanted to hold my kids and pray for Andreas Robbins’s safety.
Then it happened again. I bumped into an old friend at the mall. I went to give her a big hug, and she shied away. Her husband quickly said, “She can’t hug you.” Then she said three words, “”It came back.” She meant her cancer. Out of respect for her privacy, I won’t detail the tragedies she has faced in her life, but know they are of the most painful imaginable.
On the car ride home from the mall, I heard that it was the anniversary of the Newtown massacre. When that tragedy happened, I had just returned to teaching after a 1 and a half year maternity leave, and my father had just passed away. I remember sitting in Barnes and Noble with the People magazine cover in front of me. Something about all of those faces. No one knows this, but I bought that magazine and carried it in my work bag for the rest of the school year with all of the papers I had to grade.
I didn’t really analyze why at the time. But today when I saw my son’s palm pressed against the glass, I knew why. The grief was too much to comprehend. At the time, I had lost my father, whom I was so close to, and the grief I felt was crushing. But I could not imagine the grief those people felt having their loved ones shot and killed in a horrific act of violence in an elementary school. That shook me. It still does.
Perhaps I carried that magazine, so close to the work of my students, to remind myself that teaching is more than just lesson plans, grading papers, and delivering instruction. It is more than just ensuring that students learn. It is more than inspiring them to think and to be excited about learning. It is about love.
I guess that’s why the new direction of reform is so upsetting to me. The idea that education is something that can be “data-driven”, “standards-based”, or “rigorous”. The fact that teachers should be held accountable. Yeah all of that sounds good. But when the corporations and politicians dictate education policy, it is the love that gets lost.
Children growing up in today’s society are inheriting a world with a deficit of love. Perhaps to be career and college ready, what our children need most….is love.