Educator friends – Whew! Have you felt the collective sigh? Or, are you still feeling the tension of spring? If you haven’t already read my recent post about how to say goodbye to your students, it’s not too late to read it here.

Are you feeling relieved?

Burnt out?

Overwhelmed with unknowns?

Worried about students?

 

AND….

 

Are you needing some re-fueling for your soul?

Would you benefit from camaraderie?

How about sun, wine and compassionate colleagues?

Would it feel good to have some self-care within a community of teachers?

 

I feel you. Making it through this spring was hard for so many of you. There were (and continue to be) so many unknowns. I met and spoke with teachers and administrators in tears. I saw your posts of worry, inspiration, overwhelm and laughter with students. 

 

I know you’ve put everything aside this spring to take care of your students, and now, it’s time to take care of you!

 

Please join me for an upcoming retreat – where wellness meets education and collaboration. Think of it like an edu-stay-cation….self-care will be balanced with learning and community. You are going to get re-set before you enter back into what is sure to be a tumultuous learning experience this fall. Before you can venture back into so many unknowns, let’s refuel and prepare ourselves for the unpredictable.

 

Our content will focus on what it takes to create resilient children, thriving classrooms and systemic leadership that creates change in schools. You’ll receive support and guidance for both within-class techniques as well as system-wide shifts. Information will be practical and actionable in your classrooms right away. And you’ll become a champion for resilience-building in the classroom and beyond. 

 

But this 2-day intensive is also just as much about self-care. In order to be compassionate educators who champion for children, you must first be whole. We’ll have tough discussions and inspiring conversation. We’ll move our bodies, feed our tummies and fuel our minds for two and half days together. If you haven’t met me before, please know I lead with wisdom, humor, transparency and LOTS of relatable stories. Plus, I’m a great facilitator for rich conversations. 

 

SIGN UP HERE! 

 

What about COVID? We’ve got you covered! The retreat will take place outdoors, on my private farm in the wine country. We’re capping our registration at 45 attendees and will keep social distancing guidelines in mind to ensure that we have a safe, open-air environment for everyone.

 

Please email me and let me know what questions you have because space is limited and seats will fill. Who would want to miss out on two and a half days in wine country surrounded by like-minded educators and inspiring information?

 

Let’s learn together,

 

Dr. Amy

PS – If you’re an administrator and would like to sponsor a teacher to participate, let me know. With a lot of budgets getting cut, perhaps you need to create one or two champions for your school. Or, if you have a large group of teachers who want a special, individualized training, let me know that too! We can be creative and find ways to meet your needs, create a community of champions at your schools, and work with your budget.

Hello Friends – I know so many of you are beginning to wrap up the school year. If you haven’t read the last special edition blog post for all of you, you can find it here. I hope you found it inspiring and a way to create motivation and determination to make it to the end of this unprecedented school year. You are not alone in this process.
 
Today, I want to talk about an important topic: How to say goodbye. Goodbyes are never easy. At their best, they are a well-crafted ceremony, an embrace, thoughtful words or a ritual of closing. Goodbyes can be bittersweet. Sometimes they symbolize moving on, moving ahead, an accomplishment or the completion of an era.
 
This year, for almost all of you, goodbye was sudden. It was unplanned and unintentional. There were students one day and classrooms full of busy chatter, hallways buzzing with projects, posters, and rambunctious students. And then there was nothing. There were graduations planned and ceremonies to be held. You were amidst bright eyes beginning to sound out words, teens making critical connections and middle schoolers discovering themselves. And then you were not. You were in the middle of teaching about The Renaissance, helping 3rd graders multiply, teaching kindergarteners about time and money, or teaching seniors about civil rights. And then the world said, “Pause.”
 
While you’ve shifted valiantly to online learning and distance education, it’s not been the same. You’ve reached out to struggling students, driven in parades to awaiting faces and made countless calls and emails to parents. You’ve shown up on Google meets and tried to help the young people make connections. You’ve done online videos reading to preschoolers and had marathon telephone sessions to be sure every student feels a sense of connection. All the while, you’ve worried about academic gaps, hungry students and children at home who lack support. You’ve helped those that can show up and encouraged students to “hang in there.” You’ve put aside lesson plans to focus on mental health. You’ve invited in siblings and dogs and reached out to distracted, overwhelmed students.
 
I see you.
 
And now, it’s time to say goodbye. A mentor of mine once talked to me about goodbyes and offered this sage advice: “Don’t just end. End well.” What he meant was that even though goodbyes are often overwhelming and emotion-filled, sudden and unrequested, it is important to go through this process. It’s important to model this process.
 
Sit In It
This is the hardest part. The part we want to avoid. But we must simply sit in the emotional pain of saying goodbye to an unplanned ending. Clean out classrooms, but allow yourself to sit in the middle of the room and miss your students. Sit on the rug where little bodies wriggle and allow yourself to cry. Perch on the desk where teens ponder and learn and allow yourself to miss them. Flip through the books, the posters, the artwork. Run your hands over name tags, close the books for your library, slide the lesson plan aside and just be. Show up for you so that you can say goodbye with your people. Allow yourself to feel all the feelings that you never wanted to feel and an experience you did not sign up to understand.
 
Find a ritual
Rituals allow healing. Find a ritual that has meaning for you or your students and share the ritual with them. Choose one, simple ritual for your students which will allow them to experience closure. It’s important for them to experience a healthy goodbye, and you can help by modeling.
 
Here are some ideas:

• Share a poem with students to remember you, make it into a book mark.

• Create a virtual yearbook.

• Creating an album of class photos to post online.

• Email a Spotify list of favorite songs you listened to this spring.

• Send home rules for game to play for the summer.

• Start a post card letter-writing system for summer.

• Send a post card to students a month after school ends.

• Post silly goodbye photos on a Flipgrid (www.flipgrid.com) and encourage students to add theirs.

• Have students send you gifs about “how we feel about school ending”.

• Record a funny song, rap, or message for students.

 
If you have other ideas for closing rituals and saying goodbye, I’d LOVE it if you leave a comment below and share it with me – I’ll send out a list to everyone.
 
Here’s a poem I’d like to share with you by one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver. I hope it helps you slow down, take time to process and say goodbye to your students.
 
With compassion and respect,
 
Dr. Amy
 

In Blackwater Woods – by Mary Oliver
Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

Hello friends – first of all, thank you so much to those of you who joined us last Friday for happy hour. What an amazing group of educators! I so wish I could have met with every one of you and provided you with all of the joy and celebration – there was laughter, tears, and a special tribute to my teacher co-hosts. Here’s a picture of us during happy hour:

Second, I want to continue to give you important information and inspiration to get through the last few weeks until school is “officially” out for summer. I know many of you are barely hanging in there. You’re worried about your students. You’re helping your own children at home. You have relatives and neighbors and friends that require your attention and energy. 

I want to offer you the analogy of running a marathon. You’ve likely already heard this analogy; but without a lot of context or support. I’ve actually trained for and run a marathon – and there’s a point when you are about 3/4 the way through – it seems like you should feel relieved, “I’m almost done!” And yet, there’s still 6.2 miles left to run – that’s another full race in other worlds. That’s a lot of stamina and strength. 6.2 more miles means continuing to put in effort and sweat and grit. 

Sound familiar? It’s just a few weeks until school is “officially” out; but it seems like forever. Collectively, the stress has been high and the loneliness is compounded by disconnection and worry. You have moments when you’re positive you’re making a difference and other moments you want to throw in the towel.

Here’s how you make it from mile 20 to the finish line:

1. You get a coach or mentor: Find someone you look up to and can provide you guidance. Identify one person who has been on this run and knows how to finish. He/she will create a map, provide guidance and inspiration and knows what it feels like to look at 6.2 more miles. Perhaps that’s your principal or administrator. Maybe it’s a therapist. Maybe it’s a veteran teacher or online support group. Find a leader.

2. Find an accountability partner: I don’t care who this is, but don’t run the last few miles by yourself. An accountability partner will make sure you’re ok. She will run next to you instead of in front of you. She will make sure you’re hydrated, focused and can envision the finish line. This can be your partner, your best friend, or a colleague. One of the strongest points of feedback I’m hearing from teachers is that they feel isolated. So, I know there are other friends looking for a partner with whom to finish this race.

3. Take the water breaks: Whether you finish first or last, you’ve run a marathon. You get the medal. So, take time between now and the finish line to get some sleep, refuel your body and eat well. It’s truly important.

4. Focus on each step: Anyone who’s run a marathon knows that it’s simply time on your legs. Once you’ve run 5 miles you can run 10. Once you’ve run 10 you can run a half marathon. Once you’ve run a half-marathon, you can tackle a full marathon. But no one ever starts out having never run and says, “I’m running a marathon tomorrow” and neither should you. When schools shifted to online learning in March, you’d already run 15 or 18 miles. Now, you’re closing in on 20 with 6.2 to go. Just put one foot in front of the other – get up each morning and make it through one day. Then the next. Before you know it, you’ll see the ticker tape.

5. Shift your mindset: I know the last few miles can feel like the longest. And yet, you’ve done hard things before. We have all the data to support the fact that YOU. CAN. DO. THIS. Tie on your sneakers and tell yourself, there is no other choice but to finish. Bloody toes, chafed arms, profuse sweat – you will make it. 

We’ll worry about “what next” after you turn the corner. In the meantime, you’re closing in on the finish line – and there’s help and support should you need it. I’m here to support you – you’re always welcome to email me or call for inspiration and encouragement. I’ve talked with countless teachers and administrators over the last several weeks. 

You are heroes and though it may not feel like it, you’re going to make it to the end. Your cape may be tattered and worn, but it’s there. 

With compassion,

Dr. Amy

P.S. If this helped you, I bet it will help a colleague. Please forward this to one teacher friend who needs to hear this message of support!