Capturing October: What We GET to Do
We eat breakfast together in my classroom every morning when students arrive to school. This is new this year to eliminate congestion and delays in the cafeteria in the mornings. In room 11, breakfast has been a treat. We hear about all the happenings at home, replay stories from previous days, and talk about the day we’ve just started. There are a few students so eager to share what’s on their mind they nearly burst when they enter the room.
Each morning, one student comes in ready to share sibling stories and release major announcements that I still laugh about days and weeks later. On Mondays she always begins with, “We’re back! We are back! We are BACK!” Her excitement is uncontainable and unmatched. She will rarely reply to a “good morning” greeting before her jubilant announcement that we are, in fact, back in school at that very moment. It’s heartwarming. Talk about a way to start your day. “We are back… We. Are. BACK!” That’ll provide you the boost you need on a Monday morning.
As we chat, laugh, eat, and get our day rolling, this little friend of mine at some point without fail says this every morning:
“What are we gonna do today?”
Every single day. Usually unprompted. Sometimes we have trouble understanding her, and we’re not totally clear on what she’s saying, and it will sound like:
“What do we get to do today?”
Both are endearing and inspiring inquiries into the new day, but I think her question goes a step further than we might think… I’ll get to that.
She is an outstandingly bright kid and catches onto concepts quickly. She, like most of us, is a creature of habit with highly predictable routines. We rely on very specific structures for our students because of their variety of unique challenges- medical, physical, cognitive, etc. The layout of our day rarely changes though our activities and their content will, and I think this student is hip to our schedule by now… which leads me to my question.
Does she actually ask to find out, or does she already know what we’re going to be doing that day? Based on her other comments and tendencies, I have a hunch.
This student (I’ll call her Ama) is as bubbly as they come, so eager to see her classmates and staff members each day. She almost always addresses staff and students enthusiastically by their name. She absolutely loves learning new things. She smiles and laughs constantly. Ama’s presence in a room lights up the dullest bulb, and this is obvious within seconds of being around her. She has a curiosity I admire being 20 years her elder and a zest for life I hope to catch up to one day. She is so brilliant and quick-witted despite the many physical and health impairments she faces. Her spirit is so pure, so bright, and so life-giving.
When Ama poses her question each morning, “What are we gonna do today?” she’s already a step ahead of us. She’s getting at something beyond our daily schedule, something just below the surface of what we would usually mean when we ask this. She’s reminding us that we get to do anything at all, that the simple reminder of being here, being BACK, is alone a gift… the greatest gift of all. To be here in the moment of inquiry and to know it, to speak excitedly about what’s ahead (and even on Monday mornings I may add), well… that’s the whole point. To do anything at all. To be anything at all.
We are here. Now what are we gonna do? What do we get to do?
Whether they can communicate verbally or not, I’ve always felt my students have a unique handle on what it means to live… to be here, now. Their setbacks are difficult and at times, heartbreaking… but their resolve, their attitudes, and their joy remind me each morning what I’m being invited into.
What do I get to do today?
If we’re honest, it doesn’t take many school days for our question to shift from, “What do I get to do today,” to, “Ugh, what do I have to do today?” I get it. Last month, I wrote (here) about September steamrolling excited teachers after a highly anticipated start to the school year. October at times has felt like the steamroller reversing and running us over again.
The paperwork we finished was replaced with more.
The testing surely hasn’t slowed down.
We ran out of tissues a long time ago.
We’re tired and probably eating unhealthy even after a firm commitment to avoid the Halloween candy we binge-ate anyway.
So, we ask… What do I have to do today? Or maybe more likely… What do I have to get through the day? Or the week. When I find myself doing this, I hear the echoes from Ama’s daily question…
What are we gonna do today?
What do we get to do today?
Each day is a blank slate, and as quickly as it fills up and gets clouded with everything that happens, it remains all we are promised. My students are reminding me that and I’m trying my best to listen and follow their lead.
A few days ago, a new student in my classroom was in so much pain he whimpered and cried all day. He is nonverbal and has had a series of painful surgeries that have left him uncomfortable and in pain he cannot describe to us in words. Many people tried to help him throughout the day. We held him, adjusted him, and did everything we could to ease his discomfort. At one point I was holding him like a baby as he wailed and cried, while across the room another student threw up all over herself and her brand new power wheelchair. There were other students sitting patiently as we tended to these pressing needs. It felt hopeless.
While this was happening, I tried to repeat in my head, “I get to do this. I get to do this.” Even during a storm like that, I remembered the gift of being present to a group of students whose vulnerabilities have so much to teach me about what it means to be human. To sit with someone in a fragile and delicate place who just needs someone to try their best and to be present… what a gift. A challenge, but a gift.
What do we say we have to do, or get over with, or cross off the list, that could be slightly re-written into what we get to do? How different would each day look if that was the default posture we assumed? How would it affect our instruction? Our ability to care for the kids we’re entrusted?
I think we’d be healthier, more patient, more aware, and overall sharper if we made it our goal to have a get to vs. a have to mindset. Walking through the hallways and seeing students interact with one another… I GET to witness this. Teaching concepts to young people their brains are experiencing for the first time… I GET to do that. Watching friendships form in a school community that are rich and meaningful… I GET to be part of that. Being the very first teacher for students who have never been to school before… I GET to play that role. Holding a child who is in pain and being their advocate… I GET to do that.
What a difference it makes when the first thing on my mind each day is what I get to do rather than grumbling about all that I must accomplish or get over with. It seems my students have figured something out many of us look for our entire lives as it passes us right by.
We are back. I get to do this. What are we gonna do today? What do we get to do?
My students are reminding me that the very act of waking up each day is the un-wrapping of a gift. It’s wide open. It might be messy. It might be overwhelming at times, but we’re here and we’re doing it.
I’m here. I get to learn and move in the world one time, and I get to do it now. I get to.
Here’s to November!
