This Teachable Moment

When I started teaching middle school twenty years ago, I remember one of the more seasoned teachers urging me to embrace any "Teachable Moment." You know, that moment that you could never plan for, that moment which usually occurs at an inopportune time, that moment that you put everything on hold in order to teach the life lesson the universe has presented you. That lesson is one that oftentimes usurps what you originally thought was more substantial or important. Teachable Moments.

This. This is the Ultimate Teachable Moment.

The uncertainty, the unfathomable, the unreal... as unsettling as it is, we must seize this teachable moment. We must step up as a parent, a spouse, a child, a friend, and most importantly, as a teacher (even if not by trade) to all. If we do, we are going to get through this. If we don't, we have lost out on modern history's (or our own personal history's) most Teachable Moment. And of all things to worry about, that is the biggest and scariest disappointment of all.

We learn best by doing... I believe that we learn best by doing what is right. Some may say that what is right for some is not right for all, but we are all living through the unimaginable...together, we need to do right by each other. Let's start with the basics, shall we?

Share.
People are freaked, I get it, but share your damn toilet paper. All that's left is the decorative-dyed-pink sandpaper type shit tickets that can only be found at the Aldi. I saw you at the Meijer today: I know you don't need 60 two-ply double mega rolls. Nobody needs that much TP. Nobody. Stop it. You are making others panic by simply over-buying what you think you need. You know what you need? A knuckle sandwich, a deep breath, and a break from technology overload. Open a book, read a little, and share with us something new you've learned... not only from the words on the page, but also about yourself. If you'd like, you can even read in the bathroom amongst the rolls and rolls you've been hoarding that you're now regretting not sharing because you just got called out.

Love.
Show your neighbor some love. Check on the old lady across the street or the man you pass on Kirchoff Road who you know has no home.  Just a "hello" as you pass or a "What can I help you with?" is often just enough to show others that they matter. Snuggle with your kids, because as much as you want to water down this situation for them, they, in fact, know what is going on. Be calm, be honest, and most importantly, be present and loving. Dance with them to silly songs, not only for the movement their bodies crave, but also to show them that love never fails.

Teach.
Teach yourself how to be flexible. That is one of the biggest problems I see with the world today: inflexibility. I mean, who really, really likes change? Not many of us. We are too inflexible to see benefits change can bring. Maybe a year from now we will look back and see the benefits the changes from this experience has brought all of us. Be a role model for your children as you work from home and make sure they follow your lead... your child is still a student and you, the parent, are the teacher responsible for them: make sure they shower, brush their teeth, and get dressed daily. They need to exercise. Then, make sure they complete their e-learning assignments.

While you do, sit with your child for five minutes and guide him along (as a student). Then take a moment to reflect on that nasty email you sent to his teacher about a month ago, criticizing how she handled a situation or how your accusatory "not MY kid" has now become, "Oh crap, it was MY kid." Guaranteed. You'll be astonished and terrified at most kids' work ethic (yep, I'm talking about your Precious Prince); you'll be horrified at the constant tapping of pencils or flipping of tabs on the Chromebook. Don't believe me? You will. Recreational technology should always be earned (it's not a right) and it should only be entertained after the assignments of the day have been completed. Remember, you're the parent. Right now, you're the teacher. Hmmm...Teachable Moments.

We are all living it. Together. Share. Love. Teach. Teachable Moments always carry an "I told you so" undertone, and a month from now maybe you'll tell me I'm wrong...or maybe you won't.

In summing it all up, I thought about the days of school my children will miss - their teachers most of all -but also their friends, the structure, the routine, the familiarity. And then I wondered, will missing this many days of kindergarten matter when Mads is 18? I won't let it. Then I started thinking of this gem, one my Ma loved, and today it's more apropos than ever:

All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten

by Robert Fulghum

Most of what I really need
To know about how to live
And what to do and how to be
I learned in kindergarten.
Wisdom was not at the top
Of the graduate school mountain,
But there in the sandpile at Sunday school.

These are the things I learned:

Share everything.
Play fair.
Don't hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess.
Don't take things that aren't yours.
Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Flush.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life -
Learn some and think some
And draw and paint and sing and dance
And play and work everyday some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world,
Watch out for traffic,
Hold hands and stick together.
Be aware of wonder.

I think now we need to put everything on hold and live like we are in kindergarten. This...this is the Teachable Moment that will redefine all of us. Let's hold hands (then wash them for twenty seconds, lathering twice and following up with hand sanitizer) and promise to stick together, k?