It’s been a minute since I felt truly stressed - graduating from a grad program and no longer having class has that effect. But, I’m feeling it. School feels overwhelming though I feel more on top of instruction than ever. I return from Boston the night before we start testing. I can feel the ire toward state testing bubbling up in my heart - that I want my grandma to be okay for much longer, partially because leaving school at year end to deal with what the fallen earth throws at me is hectic and impossible. It’s hard enough dealing with grief without the thankless and unforgiving struggle of working as a public school teacher. There is pressure from every direction, and duty wrapped up in many of those. Testing means nothing to what I teach, but it feels as if the whole earth stops rotating for testing - and I feel like a person who has been robbed - I feel like testing has stolen from me, and I’m powerless to stop the theft.
All of these pressures and busyness remind me what I really want - I really want more time at home. I feel like I have no time to make my house a home and to enjoy the fruit of my labor. Today, I wrote in my bullet journal that it’s not the job I work so much as it’s the freedom a job would offer. I want to be at home more, but I don’t want to sacrifice serving at church. That feels like my current option. I enjoy working with the kids at my school - I enjoy working with people in general. But I am over the systems in place and the workload and the legalism of American education - and it keeps taking. Legislators keep taking and entitled people keep taking and county ideas and initiatives keep taking. I have run out of life’s blood to give. I’m nearing the end, which is a shame because I work hard to have positive relationships with people I work with and for. The standard I am held to while at the same time the treatment we teachers receive, means that the cons are truly beginning to outweigh the pros. I hate it though - most of the teachers I work with are selfless individuals - what other industry will I find coworkers like that? Many of them ARE my family. I am struggling to make a decision because of the family I leave. Time is ticking though.
And then there is life before me. My grandmother is ailing - the one who took care of me and my brother while my mom managed her currency exchange part-time. She’s the one who was the boss of the applesauce in the States for her nieces and nephews. She was Hispanic Woman of the Year in Chicago one year. My heart is just plain sad. She jokes about being ready - and I have to say, I am not. A lot of times in my life, I simply don’t feel ready - and for this time of life, I am the very most not. I’m not ready to shift generations - the loss of one and the continual growth of the next. I’m not ready to lose the Queen Mother, and I am begging the Lord to have mercy on me. I longed for my mom’s mom to be at my wedding one day, but losing this hope feels particularly hard amidst all the other painful adjustments. I have mourned life being radically different than what I hoped for before, but not with such immense sadness. My mom’s family has endured so much, and it feels a little impossible to believe that we must endure more. My great hope is the comfort of Jesus - that our mutual faith in Christ means that goodbye is not forever. But I reiterate - I am not ready. And I don’t know what to do with that besides weep every day that I need to. I’m reminded to love my people well through all of this - what our energy should be spent on. I can tell you, it isn’t anger. But what I wouldn’t give for a little more time - a little bit longer.
