Back 2 School: Contently Homeless (Classroom-less)

"Double Dutch" by Phyllis Stephens

I'm entering a new school year post quarantine and teaching virtually. As an artist who teaches, there's lots of anxiety surrounding teaching in person again as I’m sure it is for many educators, parents, and students. The school where I am currently employed has taken all the precautionary steps to avoid the spread of the virus by following the CDC guidelines required for schools. As a result, they've arranged to have smaller class sizes and hired more teachers. I along with the other Arts teachers no longer have classrooms in order to accommodate the extra general ed teachers. This year arts teachers will be going room to room teaching our content instead of students coming to our spaces. This form of arts education in schools isn’t uncommon. I know lots of arts teachers whose supplies are stored on a cart and they travel around the school building doing their best to provide their students with high quality artistic experiences. I commend these arts educators who have never had the luxury of a classroom.

I have been fortunate enough to work in my current school for almost 10 years now with a beautiful space for children to explore who they are through Theater. This space was sacred, full of color, large windows, and air. A spacious hideaway where imaginations came out to play, courage weaned, human connections were nourished, and I witnessed so many children blossom into confident orators and performers. That space is now infiltrated with 3 ft distant independent student tables and chairs. The colorful ABC Feelings rug is gone. The areas where the comfy Yogibo nooks used to lay are linoleum bare. 

I know you might have tons of questions after reading that. I've been asked for weeks now, "how do you feel not having a classroom this year?"

To which my response was, "Ehhh..." allowing people to create the answer themselves. You know people love to make shit up about folks anyway.

Honestly, it took awhile to fully wrap my head around my feelings because I was honestly void.

How do I feel being without a space I once walked barefoot in with sage and said my prayers in the dark before the day started? 

How do I feel not being in the space where I did some of my most profound teaching? 

Ironically, I feel contently homeless (classroom-less). There are actually real homeless people who are content with being homeless. It's a thing. The content I feel however, comes from the pure joy I regained during the 18 months of quarantining. I needed that time to get reconnected to what brings me the utmost joy. It's easy to get wrapped up in the 9-5 of things, while your dreams take a back burner in order to meet the requirements of what pays the bills. I knew week one of quarantine that things would never go back to how they used to be. I actually don't want them to.

My mother, who is also a teacher, often reminds me that teaching is calling. A divine calling. Whether one wants to admit it or not. A person can get all the collegiate training and professional development their heart desires, but when you don’t have the calling its evident. I recognize my calling to serve children and to teach even through my reluctance. I’ve taught performing arts in the Shenandoah Mountains, in a basement, in a park, in a church, on Zoom, and in a classroom. With each experience I was able to use my gifts to engage students and help them identify their unique gifts. So, being classroom-less isn’t new for me and my love for theater and children will shine in any space. I strongly believe that spaces and human value is miniscule compared to the divine calling over my life. I am grateful that I could easily tap into the bigger picture during this season with the We Do Not Care TikTok videos playing on repeat in my head. 

I know I could go into how historically the arts and artists are viewed in education which is why not having a classroom and many other ridiculous things that happen to arts programming occurs, but that is another blog for another day. Today, I just want to uplift the importance of detaching your Gorilla Glue appurtenance from things and people. Sometimes we attach ourselves to things and people that do not serve us or who don't align with who we want to be in the world. I loved my classroom, but it does not serve me in any way. Especially after the hellish year and a half we have all been through. I am not any less of a great teacher without it and it doesn’t aide in propelling me to reach my dreams. It’s a space. Transferable. I also recognize that the majority of people at my job don’t care about me as person. I’m disposable to them and the organization. Even the children who I become connected to graduate and go on to live their lives. So, I have made myself, my life, and my personal and social spaces the priority. You too, friend. Prioritize yourself and your life. Curate the life you want while being intentionally inclusive of every ounce of whatever you may need. Detach from the external and nurture the internal so that who you are and the gifts you share dwells in a wholesome and pure place.