What Comes Next?

If I could have only one ludicrous made up machine or awesome superpower, I’m almost certain it’d be time travel. There’d be so many amazing things I could do with it. I might go back to high school and give another shot at asking a girl out. Perhaps I’d relive some of my greatest memories, trekking through the Outback on camel or walking around New York City with my college mates. The history nerd in me would certainly love to go back to different empires and eras and have a look around, and the maniac in me would probably enjoy trying to conquer them as well. I’d spend more time with my mom, before I no longer had the chance. I’d have spent less time distracting myself with menial things and more time doing what I enjoy. And now especially, I’d go back and appreciate life as it was before.

Time travel isn’t impossible. Playing one turn of an addicting video game takes you six hours into the future, while a virtual staff meeting slows time down to such an incredible rate you’d think it stopped altogether. I told myself when everything shut down and I was sent home from school that however long this lasted, I’d look back and think to myself, “wow, time went by that fast?” Two weeks of staying home quickly turned into two months, which then promptly turned into six months. And even though I never would have guessed how long quarantine would last, I still find myself thinking “it’s already September?”

Point is, it’s been an incredibly long six months. But I still find it hard to believe that time flew by that quick. Lockdown is over, doors are open, the school year is over, and all without resorting to Tiger King (how long ago was that a thing?). The awful stage of shutdown-spring is over. The not great but at least different stage of summer has just about passed. So now I’m entering a new stage of whatever comes next from this year, what I’m going to call the awkward autumn.

Awkward Autumn

I can’t say with any certainty what the next few months are going to look like. But for me at least and probably a lot of other people, it’s going to be a little awkward. I haven’t been living under a rock for six months, but more or less, I’ve tried to avoid going out to anywhere I didn’t have to. And it’s not because I’m afraid of catching COVID because honestly, I could care less if I get it. But, social distancing and masks are awkward, and for some reason still slightly terrifying to me. I like seeing smiles, I like hugs and handshakes and not worrying about how strict someone else is if I’m bending the rules. Life doesn’t feel normal. I don’t buy into the “new normal” nonsense, but fact of the matter is things are going to be weird for some time and it’s going to take getting used to.

And yet, no matter how unnatural it feels, or how unprepared I am, the world of living with COVID restrictions is here. In a way, I am glad. I’d rather be out living my life than cooped up at home for however many more months. Life’s a little different now, sure. And overall, I don’t like it. But you can’t avoid it forever. You can’t just live under a rock or wait for the storm to blow over. It’s time for me to take the storm head on. I don’t know what to expect. At this point, I probably don’t want to know anyway. It could bring nothing but gum-drops and lollipops for all I know, and, after experiencing this year, I feel like I deserve a break.

Chances are though, things are going to be weird, or at least uncomfortable. And especially the case starting off the school year in a preschool. There’s a lot of unknowns, and I’m trying to figure things out just as much as the kids are. What happens when the kids start climbing on each other because one has a toy the other wants? How do you hold kids’ attentions when they’ve been doing nothing but watching screens for six months? Where are they going to be in terms of academic skills, how much have they lost and how far do we have to push to get them where they need to be? Do you have what it takes to tell the kids to keep their distance when you just want to rip the mask off and give them all hugs?

I don’t know. I don’t know the answer to any of those questions. And for a while, that really freaked me out.

Finding Peace

When I heard we were going back, I was nervous. I don’t want to live in this pandemic world as much as anyone else. I’m not an extrovert, but I need human contact. I need to see smiles. I need to give high fives and be given hugs. That, more than anything else, is what freaks me out about the whole thing. I don’t care what the global infection rate is or how poor the economy is. And to imagine a world where that isn’t possible just makes me want to shut down and curl up in a ball. Living in a preschool world where all of that is essential, and then taking it away, feels in every sense immoral. So much of what I’ve learned in the past year of being a teacher is now swept under the rug as I have to relearn how to teach in a new and uncomfortable world. And I’m not sure how I’ll do. I have doubts. I have fear. I wonder, can I really do this?

I’ve asked myself this a lot, but simply put, the answer is yes. Yes, without a doubt. Really, I have no other choice. But I wouldn’t be in the middle of this if there wasn’t a way for me to make it through. I’ve been through battles before, and every time I doubted and feared whether I would make it through, I did. I didn’t know if I could live without my mother. I didn’t know if I could make it past high school. I didn’t know if I could open up in college, or travel to the other side of the world. I didn’t know if I could find a job after college, and when I did, I didn’t know if I could indeed become a teacher. And so far, I did all of those things. I did what I thought was impossible. I conquered the world. And so I will again.

There’s a learning curve. There’s going to be uncomfortable and awkward moments. And there’s certainly going to be moments where I need a hug or a smile to get me through. No matter what though, I will get through. And while it’s difficult to feel distant or alone, if I look at it, I’m far from it. I have an amazing team who’s going through the exact same trial I am, and who have not only helped me the first time learning how to become a teacher but have also become great friends. I have my family who loves and supports me and encourages me. I have my mother watching me and looking over me, and I have my God guiding me and setting the path ahead of me.

Rolling the Dice

“Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” -Joshua 1:9

Things aren’t ideal. As a preschool teacher, it’s even intimidating. But this fight is not impossible. Given the circumstances, I truly believe we have the best chance we can have to succeed. There will be hiccups and road bumps, and it’s going to take some work to fall into rhythm with all the new crazy protocols and regulations and circumstances we’re given. But we can do this. I can do this. I’ve prepped what I can, put my fears aside, prayed to God, and all I can do now is roll the dice and hope for a good roll. I’ll ride the storm. I’ll deal with the uncertainty and uncomfort. And out if it, if I look for it, believe in it, there will be opportunities for me to grow and chances to shine the light. There is always the light. No matter how dark or strange, there is always light.

I won’t always be okay. And that’s okay. I won’t always do it right. That’s fine. I may fall and hurt, and I can’t count on easy. I can’t do this on my own. And thankfully, I’m not. My team is with me. My family is with me. My God is with me. And if I can truly let go of my fears and my doubts, then perhaps this year will be just as good as last. I don’t know what comes next. But I can have hope. Hope for comfort and guidance and that I might persevere. Hope that this year will bring unexpected joys and comforts, and that one day I’ll look back with fond memories.

And ya know what? Maybe I'm even a little bit excited.