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I returned to #Room407 for the first time in four months (a perpetual calendar featuring Snoopy atop his iconic doghouse read “March 23”). The resulting and associated feelings regarding a certain kind of PPE is something I’d like to try to describe here (and will likely fail).
British biologist Rupert Sheldrake gives us the concept of “morphic resonance.” Quickly, it’s an idea that past occurrences in place can create repeating patterns. From this description, I can share a piece of the re-entry plan missing from so many we are reading. It’s all of us.
It’s about the individual practitioner. And we all recognize inherent dangers of returning to our classrooms. I want to make it very clear that I am of the belief that we should not return to the classroom on any set date, but, rather not before a day we can say, “It is safe.”
In this light, I can tell you about re-entering the classroom space after a semester-long absence. If you are able—and it is safe—make arrangements to revisit your workspace in advance of any scheduled PD or student return (whatever this looks like for you). Set aside some time.
You won’t see this on any re-entry plan because they are—by necessity—focused on whole building. But, the indidual teacher, the holistic person is missed. And it is for this person I am suggesting a certain degree of emotional responsibility. And response.
Because I was not mentally ready for return to #Room407. I had certain preparatory tasks for the fall as I pulled into a parking space, but I had not prepared the reflective and introspective parts of me for turning the key and walking into the space where I have done my work.
And this is where I’ll tell you I had not considered PPE in the way I’ll describe it to you. By now, we are all aware of PPE in a way we have never been made by attending to the beginning-of-the-year films on universal precautions. This is a different kind of POE. Most essential.
P=Person. I’m a different self than I was leaving the classroom on March 13th. I’ve navigated similar and unique challenges presented by remote (responsive) instruction from last spring. And, I’ve navigated a visitation of COVID-19 I’ve already shared with you here. I’ve changed.
Place=The only thing that has changed about the room is the return of textbooks that has happened since the end of the school year. Every part of the room looks exactly as it was left. Or as we were asked to leave it may be the more accurate way to say and to share this.
E=Energy. The energy left in the room is immediately present and real. Morphic resonance. The way I flip the light switches and take two steps in to activate the sensor that actually illuminates the lights. The toss of my keys onto the first table in the room. Teacher/Room One.
PPE—Person. Place. Energy. It all comes together not only in muscle memory but in emotional inventory. All at once, it hits me. That teaching didn’t stop’s more than platitude. It’s here as I forget that it’s a Friday in July. Not a Monday in March. No students are due to arrive.
But I begin going to the shelves. Examining spines of the titles that either weave their way into lessons or moments or eventually into the hands of a reader (either for a lesson or in the moment). And, then a glance to the desk. A handled bag rests on the side. It’s not mine.
But what’s in the bag ARE mine. Students have found a way to return books borrowed prior to March 13th. Taking each from the bag, I see the face of the borrower. The place is trying to give to me as much as it can given our current and shared condition. I’m receiving it in turn.
Near the computer is a small book. An illustrated adaptation of “You Will Be Found” from the musical DEAR EVAN HANSEN. On the last day of physical school, it was part of an impromptu share projected on the screen as a choir sang the words while I turned the pages in time.
I shared the book to send a message that we would find students if we had to teach at a distance. Here—now—the book speaks to the teacher. PPE. Person. Place. Energy. All found. All found to be one. To be wholly present in the room. Teaching within—and to—morphic resonance.
A little bit of time to reorient to the space has provided a feeling of being revitalized to the work that must happen this fall (in whatever form or platform). As a nation seems to want to assess value in my/our work, I think they missed this line item: Found. Found. Found.
And while it might be too reminiscent of GOODNIGHT MOON, it is the same resonance. I find the room. The room finds me. I find me. I find the student. The student in time finds him, her, their self. All of this finding. We lose only that we fear might or could have been taken.
Longer than I might have intended to go is only an indication that we still have a long way to go. Much has changed since March 13th. Lessons learned away from the room draw us back to the room. Lessons to examined. To weave into the moment we are all safe to return.
Before I leave the room, I walk through the matrix of tables that will have to be removed next week before students return to class. A decade in this room and we are—once again—to be at desks. In rows. But, I know this: PPE will sustain us. Keep us. Make it so we can be found.
. @artemisia_gold: This is the answer I should have given you last night, but I was absorbed in binge-watching FRAGGLE ROCK. “Archeological Dig.” Yes. As much as I was trying to find something. And then coming to a realization I had been carrying it inside of me all along.
