I ended my first day back to teaching yesterday feeling like a boss. Rather, like a dumb boss.
These principles that have been so prevalent in years past, are almost non-existent this year due to how differently school and our classroom function this year. This is a realization I didn’t make until very recently and now vow to change for the remainder of our time together. We can no longer gather and drum (and really get close and talk) the way we would have in the past, but on this last day of Kwanzaa that recognizes Imani (faith), I have faith that I will ensure my students are not denied these foundational principles of being (specifically as Black learners but as members of humanity as well), independently and together as a community.
I like to joke and say that he’s mine, all mine, but I know that he’s not. He’s his own person, with his own purpose and place in this world.
My cousin brother, Chef Andre from MasterChef Canada Season 6, dropped off some freshly baked “Andre’s Hardo Bread” this evening and I’m so thankful. Like, it was still warm, y’all!
One of the highlights of the 2019-2020 school year was being accepted into a leadership program with my teacher’s union for BIPoC (Black, Indigenous, people of colour) women in Ontario. Only 20 women are accepted for the program each year and I’d applied once or twice in the past, but wasn’t successful. Finally, it was my turn, my time. Or so I thought.
Today is the last day of school before the break. Baby boy had to isolate for 10 days due to cold symptoms which means mama's gotta stay home. Since I've been away from my students all week, I decided to do a quick google meet with them during snack time. I'm glad I did because after the break we may be under a full lockdown again. Likely, if last spring is any indication, I won't see many of my students faces again. Not for a while, anyway.
Today is my sisters birthday and for the first time since the move I really felt the distance. Baby boy has a runny nose, a lil cough and is sneezing like crazy. Unless he gets a Covid test, he has to isolate for 10 days before returning to daycare.
It feels like ages since I’ve walked or run, and I miss it dearly (cold country problems). But I find comfort in knowing that I can reflect on July fondly as the start of healthy habits (even if short-lived). I started walking daily for at least 30 minutes for 21 days. While walking I listened to the GirlTrek podcast, Black History Boot Camp: walking meditation.
The statement “2020 was rough.” is an understatement, but it’s the truth. There were times during the year, often social media induced where I felt like I couldn’t think. I didn’t know what to think. I felt a lot, but didn’t know what to do with my feelings. My senses were hyper-aware of everything, so much so I couldn’t process any of it.
My little guy has been excited to put up our Christmas tree for at least two weeks now. I couldn’t commit though, not until I’d put away all my shoes. If it weren’t for him they’d probably still be there. His excitement is tangible and it looks like he has lights twinkling in his eyes despite the tree still being in its box. It’s those simple moments of joy, through my little guys eyes that got me through the roller coaster of emotions that has been 2020.