This blog post is indicative of how all of us have had to pivot and find ways and reasons to
celebrate despite loss, grief, hardship, and yes, COVID-19. Check out Keah’s blog post
and contemplate on what you can celebrate despite your current challenges.
Feel free to send your comments and responses to info@realwomenrock.org.
August 2019 I entered into my 10th year of teaching. I recalled the struggle it took to get me to that place and I felt an abundance of gratitude for each amazing experience and precious moment. There had been highs and lows along the way, but I was absolutely certain that I was where I was supposed to be. Unsure of exactly what the school year would bring, I was determined to embrace a position and mindset of celebration. A commemoration for my hard work, achievements, challenges, and growth.
The first two quarters of the school year were absolutely amazing. I had an awesome connection with my students and our learning community truly felt like our happy place filled with good vibes. Year #10 was truly a celebration.
March 2020, we left school expecting to return in two weeks. Our classroom, our happy place that was once filled with laughter, cooperative instruction, collaborative problem solving, positive affirmations, inquisitive questions, and self-expressions during circle time was now closed. The community of learners who worked so cohesively together now had to work in what seemed like brutal isolation.
This certainly didn’t feel like a party anymore. But I declared at the beginning of the school year, it would be a celebration of year #10. So no matter the circumstance, I wanted my posture to be one of celebration.
And with the help of technology, we did it. We continued to learn, grow, and celebrate. I continued to deliver instruction, but not grudgingly, with a disposition of celebration. Same job, same objective, just a different location.
May 2020 I didn’t know that towards the close of my 10th year in education, the word celebration would take on a whole new meaning for me. I found solace in celebrating my mother’s life, but who knew I’d learn to celebrate her death?
My mother went to Heaven on May 29th, and my first words as I spoke with the doctor on the phone who called to deliver the news…” You won, Mommy”. With an ocean of tears falling from my eyes, I looked up and declared that my mother had won. The victory was hers. Because I’m her daughter, her victory is mine too.
Yes, it feels like an unbearable loss every day, but my physical loss of her on this Earth with me means that she gains Heaven, and that my friend, is an eternal win. Victories warrant a celebration, right? Absolutely.
August 2020 Here we are again facing another school year. Regardless of the discomfort, unfamiliarity, isolation, challenges…I am celebrating year #11.