Like Riding A Bike

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#Red4Ed and striking for a fair contract

Where do I begin? As I was riding my bike to the bike shop for my volunteer gig this morning, I marveled as how wonderful it feels to ride. Just riding a bike is pure bliss. How wonderful it is to just roll on by without too many cares. How magical it will be to start our first full week of school and how tremendous it is to claim my routine.

Yes, claim my routine. I’ve never been on strike and never in my 30 plus years in my school district have we, the teachers, striked until this year. It has been absolutely weird but last Thursday we voted on our tentative agreement which means we ended the 7-day strike and will start the terms of our new 2-year contract. This is good but there are residual hurt feelings between workers and management that are not easily mitigated. Navigating that part of the discourse will be the challenge of the year.

I want to talk about it, but I also absolutely don’t want to talk about it. It has been the focus of all energy and ire and stamina and the vitality with which I usually greet the new school year is dulled. We’ve hit a flat in the relationship and trust is a bent rim, you know? I am still processing everything that has happened since the start of the strike, and there’s no Google map for this sort of journey. I’m not in a place where I’m ready to talk deeply about it. I’m glad it’s in the rearview mirror and we are stronger as a union because of it. I don’t feel like the same person I was prestrike and I don’t know what that means going forward.

Last Friday’s first day of school was a foggy ride
but clearly happy to be back in a routine.

Strange that I’m writing so much about the thing I wasn’t going to write about. Go figure. My bike ride to the fire station which was our staging area for picketing is close to my school. I rode my bike like I always do toward school, but stopped at the fire station and waiting for my colleagues to join me. I was a picket captain and that means there are some details to iron out before we hit the line. My point in talking even this much it to say that riding my bike to and from was my meditation. It was my normal and without it, well, who knows. The bike ride was the most normal thing I could do amidst the oddness of the start of the year.

To feel the bike under me.
To feel the cold morning air in my face.
To pedal the cadence of the commute felt like the best aspect of my routine I could perform.Every day felt out of true and yet riding brought me comfort.

The picketing meant I was doing a daily duathlon. We were all walking 10 to 15 miles in just steps back and forth, so it was quite a workout which again I feel like I was prepared because I commute by bike.

As I perused my photos there were hardly any recent photos of my bike or sceney or anything beyond the daily picket line. I wanted to take a moment to blog about my absence and say that getting back into the routine is like riding a bike. You don’t forget. Time has muscle memory and seeing the students and getting back into a routine is what back-to- school is all about.

As I see my fellow staff members and walk the halls or settle into the paceline of being back at work, I know we’ve all been through something monumental together. I’ve never felt as in tune with my colleagues as I do now. We walked and talked and thought together. There’s a collegiality and companionship that will bind us together beyond the 180 days we spend working together.

Get out there and ride even if it seems like an indulgence, because it could be the only part of the day that brings you peace.

Thanks for reading my blog and hanging out with me. I appreciate it. Have a good week!

BG

Piano Moving

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From 2019 trip to Thessaloniki, Greece.

It’s a simple question that could be answered simply. How was your year? The year refers to my school year which typically starts at the end of August and ends in mid-June. Of course it could be answered with words like busy, hectic, demanding, difficult, arduous, tough, exhausting, and even Herculean. I’m coming up on three weeks of summer break so far.

Readers, thanks for being here. I’m happy to be here too and I’m working on catching my breath after a school year that can best be described as riding a tandem alone on a gravel road with a 12% grade.

A little bit about myself. When I’m not Bike Goddess here on the blog and out on my bike, I’m a teacher. I’m a teacher-librarian which means I moved out of the classroom to be a school librarian over 25 years ago. I got another Master’s degree and became a teacher-librarian or what many call a Library Media Specialist. In some states you are required to have a degree in library science, media or learning resources. I enjoyed being a classroom teacher and I’m glad that I was able to move into library media early in my career. That is the perfect fit for my skills, interests and passions and I love it. Yes, I’m hooked on reading and I love working with tech and research so together all these skills mean that every single year is different. People often think “You must get tired doing the same thing year after year,” and that’s never been my experience. Very little is the same year to year and the last two years have been formidable.

Working hard on cleaning the plates at a restaurant in Thessaloniki.

I always have grand ideas about summer break. If it were up to me and me alone, I’d be in the Greek Islands on a bike roaming about from beach to beach eating dolmathes and sardinis and Greek feta with some Αλφα beer but Covid and travel uncertainties and the general malaise of pandemic and politics have grounded me. At the three week mark I usually start to let go of bits of the previous school year. I’m still on track with that. It’s the point where I’m processing the year and my subconscious have formed a sort of story for me to explain how I feel.

Maybe you’ve seen the posts about how teachers aren’t doing well. Maybe you’ve even read about how there are massive shortages in staffing and substitutes. Perhaps you’ve seen additional posts about how teachers can’t focus on their own mental health because of the constant barrage of attacks on what they’re teaching and how. It’s hard to explain how it’s different than a “normal” year since we haven’t been operating normally for quite some time.

Recovery is real and educators are in recovery mode now. While I don’t speak for all educators I can tell you that we’re all hemming and hawing about the state of affairs. When you try to be positive there’s some naysayer ready to meet your glee with doom. July has always been the month where I feel myself loosen up a bit like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz. It’s the threshold month when I start to recognize myself in the mirror and feel a tiny spring in my step again. That means that the focus, like when you’re getting your vision tested, becomes clearer and clearer with each passing day. It’s when I can see for myself who I am again and I start to smile and laugh with less restraint. It’s when my pace becomes steady and I settle into a cadence that feels restorative.

Couldn’t find a picture of a grand piano so you get another bike in Greece photo.

My subconscious revealed to me in a dream about moving a grand piano what my year was like. In my dream another colleague told me to move a grand piano to an auditorium several miles from my school. In the dream the colleague said to “just get it done” and his tone was hostile and aggressive. I said it wasn’t really my job to do that. They’d have to hire a moving company or get the school district to make the move. “Not happening,” he said. “It’s you!” In the dream I resisted until I didn’t. I caved into the pressure or expectations to move the piano. Next scene, with a group of several students we moved the piano on its tiny little wheels over the streets and down a hill amidst traffic to the auditorium. None of us alone had the strength of Theseus . We worked together. Hmmmm. Very interesting Sigmund.

I woke up thinking about both the absurdity and truth in the dream. It was another intensely challenging year in which I felt that there was nothing I could do to make things right. I overcompensated with certain tasks which left me bereft in my own life with things I missed doing, like writing and resting. The year was as hard as moving a grand piano across town.

We all have our pianos don’t we? I don’t know what your piano is but I do know that if we don’t rest and if we don’t take care of ourselves the weight is unbearable.

Thanks for hanging out with my blog today. I appreciate it.

Have a great day and get out there and ride your bike.

Be safe.

Bike Goddess