October 16, 2020
To my Rainbow Baby,
Today, I am 21 weeks pregnant! This has been one of the hardest weeks of my career. I have gone through the losses of students and colleagues, had opportunities to lead new programs fizzle out, and have spent the last 7 months trying to figure out how to teach in the midst of building closures and a global pandemic. Both nothing I have experienced in the last 8 years has prepared me for this week.
Since summer, our school district has been trying to figure out how to start this school year in a way that provided a strong education to our students while keeping students and staff safe from the rapid spread of this disease. My school also needed to negotiate a regular working contract for this school year on top of coming to agreements on working condition plans for distance learning and hybrid models. The fluctuating numbers in Ohio caused some of these plans to start and stop suddenly because of the need to shift to virtual plans before school even started. But when our superintendent announced plans to finally begin shifting to hybrid, things between our teachers’ union and the district administration grew contentious, to the point where this past Monday, we were forced to vote to go on strike. For the past four days, instead of being back in my classroom seeing kids in person for the first time since March, I am standing outside a place that has become my second home, picketing in the hopes that our administration will understand what we’re willing to sacrifice in order to ensure our students and fellow teachers are safe.
So much about this plan is not what is best for my students. Asking teachers to monitor kids in person at the same time as kids at home is not doable. Requiring teachers to clean spaces outside their classrooms is not feasible or safe. Putting our young people on a live stream that can get hacked and recorded on to YouTube does not protect their privacy. I’m not willing to sacrifice my career for this plan; if something happens and I am investigated, I have no protection from losing my teaching license and everything I have worked for. But I am willing to sacrifice my paycheck and my health insurance to make sure that my students get a better education than that.
You’ve been rocking it with me on the picket lines all week, little babe. I still haven’t felt an obvious kick, but on Wednesday I started feeling this poking sensation at the top of my baby bump, like a body part was jammed into my ribs. I’m convinced your tiny fist is raised in solidarity with your momma as she stands up for what is right. Because this is about you too, sweet one. It’s about keeping you safe now while your mom has to work in a classroom full of kids all day long. But it’s also about keeping you safe in the future, because the entire educational field is going to change drastically after this year. Sweeping changes will be made to how we teach that will last until you head off to school, and I will fight til the end to ensure that you walk into a safe classroom on your first day there! So my tired feet and my aching back and all the hours standing and walking and chanting will be worth it, knowing that I have given you that future.
In the midst of all of this, your great grandma passed away this week from the very disease that has put my school in this predicament. Where she lived had been able to keep their residents safe for a very long time, but once someone got sick it wasn’t long before everyone was sick. I have not seen her since my wedding over 3 years ago, and I am so sad that she will not be here to see you come into the world. I am grateful that she knew you were on the way, and that I got to hear the happiness in her voice when she heard you were coming. I’m glad that she was not sick for long and that she went to be with Jesus peacefully in her sleep. I’m thankful that her pain is over and she has entered heaven fully healed. I know she is watching over us, little one, and she will see you come into this world from above.
Today, you are the size of an endive. Your length is growing fast, already 10.5 inches!! and you are almost 13 ounces now. Your central nervous system is getting more sophisticated, which would explain that tiny fist raised to poke your momma’s belly! Your movements are now more deliberate! You’re continuing to develop nerves and bones in your ears to hear more distinct sounds in the womb, like picketing chants and car horns. You are growing like crazy, but you still have enough room to do a double tuck flip. The fizzy bubble flutters are definitely still consistent! There’s so much to pray for this week! I hope you are safe and strong in there as your mom exerts herself each day standing on those picket lines. I pray that my health remains steady, as my lack of health insurance right now would not be benefited by a surprise trip to the doctor. I ask God to work for peace and civility within each person participating in these negotiations so that an agreement can be reached soon, allowing us all to return to doing what we love. I pray that whatever the plan is, it is safe for me and my students and my baby, and that it paves the way for a bright and innovative future in education. And if we must continue picketing next week, I pray that God will continue to protect us both. Things have never been more out of my own control than they are now, so more than ever, I place all of this in God’s hands and pray that He does His will to work all of these things out for good.
I love you, little Rainbow Baby.
Love, Mommy
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