Mobility, Agility, Pliability (289)

 Change is inevitable, so they say. We all understand this in every aspect of our lives. We chose to become educators. We chose to stay. We chose to believe in ourselves. You do not just become a teacher over night. You go to college, you pass exams, you state certify. 

You apply, interview, prove and justify your skills. You find your groove, only to find it has worn and that you need to lift up the needle and find another. Your record spinning and wearing down, slowly at a pace uncontrollable.

The record gets flipped. The B side playing unknown tunes. The A side holding your favorites, hidden, face down on the turn table of our profession. We have crates of our favorite artists', our favorite vinyl soundtracks. 

They are currently in storage. I miss the crackle, the static that is familiar of the moments in my past. That p[articular sound, that subtle difference between crispness and glorious originality. I hear that noise, that beautiful crackling and I am taken back.

I miss that memory. They memory of hands digging through a makerspace. The screech of chalk on the blackboard. The shuffle of chairs being pulled together for group work. It seems so strange- the absence of noise. I hear voices 3 class periods a day, from behind masks, the voices of students.

 I hear voices of unmasked virtual learners 3 classes a day. But no matter the class period- I yearn for the normalcy, the collective, energetic collision of close proximity of collaboration.

Mobility halted, except within transition. Our agility and flexibility muted. Yet, our pliability has become even more stretchy because we pull and flex, contract and twist into our new smaller personal space. We might need to remain distanced physically- but we cross barriers and the void with our common thread of eagerness to be together. 

We may have dispensed with the hugs, handshakes and fist bumps- but our masked smiles and wide eyes, has created a different kind of communication- quiet ambition rooted in visual sound. It might not crackle or spin- but it definitely moves us.