Wow, just wow, Rita! So amazing to hear you read it and to see your words shared for a lucky wider audience. And this piece grew roots in such an amazing way. Devastating and singular in the point of view and in the poetry of it. So thrilled for you and so honored to know you.💜
I think you can rest on these laurels for today!?!? I am not sure who are what/ when you are comparing it to but from where I sit, you are writing things and folks are reading them and engaging in conversation because of them, so….. I think given the now we are in that’s pretty amazing.
Thank you! You are so right. I've been wrestling all week with an essay I'm trying to feel is finished enough to send off, and that's clouded my view of the bigger picture. I appreciate the gentle butt-kicking!
Ha! Gentle butt kicking! I was going for permission, but whatever works??? And there’s that drive that finishes things! Bottle it and send me some! Xoxo.
Beautiful and thoughtful essay, Rita. Congratulations on having it published—but also, I wish the words had never been necessary, and would never be necessary again.
So do I, Marian. I like to think that if enough of us share our words, change can happen. Really hard to hold to that belief right now, but putting them out there anyway.
Rita, I am so glad for today's essay and for sharing your stunning and moving essay published in Dorothy Parker's Ashes. This: "Our work environment had become dystopian long before the pandemic, and Uvalde helped me see that." And here we are, living though another kind of dystopian time. Yes, we can read your essay as a poem, or even as a prayer, about the way life could be, if only we had the collective will and imagination to make it so.
Yes, "if only we had the collective will and imagination to make it so." I sometimes think my years of work in schools were a kind of prayer. I've long thought schools (and libraries) to be holy places--part of why school shootings feel like such a violation to me.
Both your post and the published piece are so moving. The fact that today's kids are forced to accept mass shootings as a part of life is heartbreaking. They could never pay teachers enough money to live with the stress of what might happen. I'm glad you're on the other side now.
Thank you, Eileen. It just kills me, what we've done to our children. What we continue to do. I'm glad to be on the other side, too, but survivor's guilt--especially when I think of my younger colleagues still there--is real. You nailed it: the stress of what might happen. It probably won't (though it has happened, more than once, close to me), but the constant reminders that it could has an impact.
Your essay is wonderful which seems like the wrong thing to say considering the seriousness of the topic you broached. However this is the world as it is, so I'm happy to know how you've processed your experiences as a teacher. Much has changed, but concern for students remains a teacher's priority.
Thanks so much, Ally. I think the only reason I write is to try to come to terms with the world as it is. Appreciate you coming along for that sometimes bumpy ride with me.
Complex and clear and heartbreaking all at the same time. (Because I’m getting ready to teach creative nonfiction again, I meta-read everything with an eye to technique. This is a model for so much: scene, reflection, characterization, interiority - a tour de force.)
This comment means so much to me, Elizabeth. Thank you! It was originally a blog post, but I revised it after working on a section of it for one of @Jeannine Ouellette’s Writing in the Dark exercises. It's so gratifying to know that someone can see those things.
I don’t remember which intensive it was, but it was an exercise about narrative distance. It made me reconsider the whole piece, even though I focused only on the scene with the student at the end of class for the exercise.
I enjoyed listening to your piece Rita - I can tell you were a wonderful educator, as if there was any doubt! Congratulations on the publication of your essay!
The essay in Dorothy Parker's Ashes is gorgeous and so important, and piece is beautiful as well. Bless you for being a teacher. Teachers were my heroes and the people who made the biggest contributions to me when I was young. They saw me for who I was and accepted me. They helped me grow and I love them still for the difference they made in my life when I needed it the most. I'm still in touch with several of my teachers, going all the way back to first grade. I honestly don't know how any one can do that job anymore. Going daily into an environment that should be the safest place for children and their educator guardians and instead it's a potential war zone. Thank you for the contribution you made to the lives of many who'll probably never forget you. I'm glad you stepped away, though. It's enough. It's so much stress to have to live with on a daily basis. No one should have to live in that mode, it's barbaric. xo
I feel so seen in your words, Nan. Thank you so much for this. I had teachers who did the same for me, and I'm sure it had everything to do with me becoming one. I wonder if all of us who write had that experience? Not all teachers do this. I had some who did damage, and I think that for many of my students I was just another teacher. But doesn't it make all the difference when someone finds that person who is the right teacher for them? I'm so glad you got to have some who were that for you. Look at how we all get to benefit from the work you share in the world now. It's enough to make a skeptical person like me have something I can call faith.
You're just the loveliest. I'm so glad you're here, doing what you do so very well. I'm skeptical, too. But isn't that wonderful? For me, that word means discernment, not dismissal, and a willingness to be curious, to question, and to possibly grow? I'm sad that this culture has made it impossible for teachers to do what they were taught to do. The barriers to safety and support (monetary and emotional) have made it all but impossible to attract people who are passionate about education AND their students. Scary times. xo
Yes, it is wonderful! I'm an atheist, but I've been attending a neighborhood church for a few months and just last week the sermon was about why skepticism is a good thing! (I know there's a lot to unpack in that sentence. I really should write a post about this.) The pastor made all the same points you just did. I'm lucky to have been a teacher in a progressive city in a blue state. I can't imagine what it is to teach now in Florida or Texas. But even where I was, it changed so much. All the creativity was being sucked out of it. I'm all for science, but there's an art to teaching, too. That's what's been lost. Don't get me started...
Okay, I won't get you started, but that's a conversation I'd love to have one day. What a disappointment the culture is, and it's growing worse by the minute. Chin up, girl. You're doing something else in the world right now. Just keep showing up. Once a teacher, always a teacher. You're just teaching differently now. xo
Such a deep, thoughtful piece Rita Especially loved the repetitions and your reflections. Do you know Jocelyn Cox, a friend and former ice competitor? She has a new book in the fall—Motion Dazzle
Thank you, Trish, for reading and for the kind words. I do not know Jocelyn. I was a skater for a pretty short time, and many years ago. I'd love to know more about her book!
The tag is: A Memoir of Motherhood, Loss, and Skating on Thin Ice. Jocelyn is in an accountability group I’m in and she has a great sense of humor. Her book is out in 4 months—I’ll post when I have more info.
Congratulations on your published piece — I’m so proud of you, my friend.
I think about Ella graduating next year more often than I care to admit. There’s some comfort in the idea of not worrying about school shootings anymore. But then again, this is America — the fear doesn’t really end at the school doors, does it?
Thank you! And no, the fear doesn't end at the school doors. 🥺 I can't believe Ella is graduating next year! I just read a beautiful post about Covid and schools and commencement. It won't change or take away any of the hard, hard things we're all living through, but maybe it will help in some way: https://tarapenry.substack.com/p/first-morning-of-summer-a-commencement
Rita, I love how you lavish attention on the scene in a classroom - a sparrow of a subject in our high-speed world. I love that boy and hope he will always remember that class (he will) and be better for it, despite what was happening that morning in Texas. How precious these chances we have to sow love and self-respect. The context is maddening, but we plug along.
Read your piece just now--fantastic. That last line brought me to tears, too. Congratulations and thanks for sharing.
Thank you so much for reading, Jill.
Such a beautiful and moving essay.
Thank you.
Wonderful piece -- centered around a close reading!! So well done. So many layers of meaning.
You know I love close reading 😊Thank you
An amazing reflection -- I read and listened. In awe of you for your quality of attention and your courage.
Thank you so much, Bethany. This means so much from you.
Wow, just wow, Rita! So amazing to hear you read it and to see your words shared for a lucky wider audience. And this piece grew roots in such an amazing way. Devastating and singular in the point of view and in the poetry of it. So thrilled for you and so honored to know you.💜
Oh, thank you, Emily. Our work together had so much to do with the final version of this. More and more, I think all writing is a collaboration.
So grateful for that ongoing conversation/ collaboration. I am in awe of the way you make the work take flight and finish it.
Really wanting to get better at that finishing thing. It's not happening too much lately.
I think you can rest on these laurels for today!?!? I am not sure who are what/ when you are comparing it to but from where I sit, you are writing things and folks are reading them and engaging in conversation because of them, so….. I think given the now we are in that’s pretty amazing.
Thank you! You are so right. I've been wrestling all week with an essay I'm trying to feel is finished enough to send off, and that's clouded my view of the bigger picture. I appreciate the gentle butt-kicking!
Ha! Gentle butt kicking! I was going for permission, but whatever works??? And there’s that drive that finishes things! Bottle it and send me some! Xoxo.
Beautiful and thoughtful essay, Rita. Congratulations on having it published—but also, I wish the words had never been necessary, and would never be necessary again.
So do I, Marian. I like to think that if enough of us share our words, change can happen. Really hard to hold to that belief right now, but putting them out there anyway.
Rita, I am so glad for today's essay and for sharing your stunning and moving essay published in Dorothy Parker's Ashes. This: "Our work environment had become dystopian long before the pandemic, and Uvalde helped me see that." And here we are, living though another kind of dystopian time. Yes, we can read your essay as a poem, or even as a prayer, about the way life could be, if only we had the collective will and imagination to make it so.
Yes, "if only we had the collective will and imagination to make it so." I sometimes think my years of work in schools were a kind of prayer. I've long thought schools (and libraries) to be holy places--part of why school shootings feel like such a violation to me.
They are holy places, the places of teaching and learning, especially for children and it breaks my heart when they become less than sacred.
Both your post and the published piece are so moving. The fact that today's kids are forced to accept mass shootings as a part of life is heartbreaking. They could never pay teachers enough money to live with the stress of what might happen. I'm glad you're on the other side now.
Thank you, Eileen. It just kills me, what we've done to our children. What we continue to do. I'm glad to be on the other side, too, but survivor's guilt--especially when I think of my younger colleagues still there--is real. You nailed it: the stress of what might happen. It probably won't (though it has happened, more than once, close to me), but the constant reminders that it could has an impact.
Your essay is wonderful which seems like the wrong thing to say considering the seriousness of the topic you broached. However this is the world as it is, so I'm happy to know how you've processed your experiences as a teacher. Much has changed, but concern for students remains a teacher's priority.
Thanks so much, Ally. I think the only reason I write is to try to come to terms with the world as it is. Appreciate you coming along for that sometimes bumpy ride with me.
Complex and clear and heartbreaking all at the same time. (Because I’m getting ready to teach creative nonfiction again, I meta-read everything with an eye to technique. This is a model for so much: scene, reflection, characterization, interiority - a tour de force.)
This comment means so much to me, Elizabeth. Thank you! It was originally a blog post, but I revised it after working on a section of it for one of @Jeannine Ouellette’s Writing in the Dark exercises. It's so gratifying to know that someone can see those things.
You more than pulled off the art that hides art. Which exercise? I couldn’t keep up with them but did manage a few.
I don’t remember which intensive it was, but it was an exercise about narrative distance. It made me reconsider the whole piece, even though I focused only on the scene with the student at the end of class for the exercise.
Beautifully done—both your DPA essay and the frame you’ve made for it here.
Thank you!
I enjoyed listening to your piece Rita - I can tell you were a wonderful educator, as if there was any doubt! Congratulations on the publication of your essay!
Thank you so much, Diana. For reading and for these kind words.
The essay in Dorothy Parker's Ashes is gorgeous and so important, and piece is beautiful as well. Bless you for being a teacher. Teachers were my heroes and the people who made the biggest contributions to me when I was young. They saw me for who I was and accepted me. They helped me grow and I love them still for the difference they made in my life when I needed it the most. I'm still in touch with several of my teachers, going all the way back to first grade. I honestly don't know how any one can do that job anymore. Going daily into an environment that should be the safest place for children and their educator guardians and instead it's a potential war zone. Thank you for the contribution you made to the lives of many who'll probably never forget you. I'm glad you stepped away, though. It's enough. It's so much stress to have to live with on a daily basis. No one should have to live in that mode, it's barbaric. xo
I feel so seen in your words, Nan. Thank you so much for this. I had teachers who did the same for me, and I'm sure it had everything to do with me becoming one. I wonder if all of us who write had that experience? Not all teachers do this. I had some who did damage, and I think that for many of my students I was just another teacher. But doesn't it make all the difference when someone finds that person who is the right teacher for them? I'm so glad you got to have some who were that for you. Look at how we all get to benefit from the work you share in the world now. It's enough to make a skeptical person like me have something I can call faith.
You're just the loveliest. I'm so glad you're here, doing what you do so very well. I'm skeptical, too. But isn't that wonderful? For me, that word means discernment, not dismissal, and a willingness to be curious, to question, and to possibly grow? I'm sad that this culture has made it impossible for teachers to do what they were taught to do. The barriers to safety and support (monetary and emotional) have made it all but impossible to attract people who are passionate about education AND their students. Scary times. xo
Yes, it is wonderful! I'm an atheist, but I've been attending a neighborhood church for a few months and just last week the sermon was about why skepticism is a good thing! (I know there's a lot to unpack in that sentence. I really should write a post about this.) The pastor made all the same points you just did. I'm lucky to have been a teacher in a progressive city in a blue state. I can't imagine what it is to teach now in Florida or Texas. But even where I was, it changed so much. All the creativity was being sucked out of it. I'm all for science, but there's an art to teaching, too. That's what's been lost. Don't get me started...
Okay, I won't get you started, but that's a conversation I'd love to have one day. What a disappointment the culture is, and it's growing worse by the minute. Chin up, girl. You're doing something else in the world right now. Just keep showing up. Once a teacher, always a teacher. You're just teaching differently now. xo
Thanks, Nan. I've been trying to find my footing for awhile now. Thanks for not getting me started 😉
Such a deep, thoughtful piece Rita Especially loved the repetitions and your reflections. Do you know Jocelyn Cox, a friend and former ice competitor? She has a new book in the fall—Motion Dazzle
Thank you, Trish, for reading and for the kind words. I do not know Jocelyn. I was a skater for a pretty short time, and many years ago. I'd love to know more about her book!
The tag is: A Memoir of Motherhood, Loss, and Skating on Thin Ice. Jocelyn is in an accountability group I’m in and she has a great sense of humor. Her book is out in 4 months—I’ll post when I have more info.
I hope you do!
Congratulations on your published piece — I’m so proud of you, my friend.
I think about Ella graduating next year more often than I care to admit. There’s some comfort in the idea of not worrying about school shootings anymore. But then again, this is America — the fear doesn’t really end at the school doors, does it?
Thank you! And no, the fear doesn't end at the school doors. 🥺 I can't believe Ella is graduating next year! I just read a beautiful post about Covid and schools and commencement. It won't change or take away any of the hard, hard things we're all living through, but maybe it will help in some way: https://tarapenry.substack.com/p/first-morning-of-summer-a-commencement
Rita, I love how you lavish attention on the scene in a classroom - a sparrow of a subject in our high-speed world. I love that boy and hope he will always remember that class (he will) and be better for it, despite what was happening that morning in Texas. How precious these chances we have to sow love and self-respect. The context is maddening, but we plug along.
We do plug along! I hope you're continuing to have a summer that replenishes you.