Out Of Time

 I have stated here before what a big fan of ruts I am. I really love knowing where to go and what to do. Routines are a huge part of not just my day to day life but weekly, monthly, yearly. The cycles that make up each day for me provide me with a map to follow when my concentration is at a premium. 

This is why a disruption to those patterns is so confounding for me. 

A school day consists of waking up before the sun, having my orange juice and vitamins, sitting down in front of the computer long enough to check and see of there is any reason to go back to bed, i.e. flooding at the school or limited nuclear exchange. The personal email inbox is checked, then the work email. Back to the bathroom to floss and brush. Pull on my work clothes, kiss the wife and out the door to hop on the bike. 

Most of that can still be accomplished on a strike day. It's what happens at the end of that bike ride that stops my progress cold. 

I don't go inside. Instead, I put up the tent and wait for the picket signs to show up. I wave to our principal who is holding down the fort just behind the gate as I prepare for the uncomfortable reality of spending the day on the sidewalk in front of school. Talking to parents and students about the situation we have put them in. I want them to be safe, and I am willing to get them to an alternative place where they can have that with some structure and maybe some reading or at least peer connections: The public library. 

It's not school. It's not the rhythm. It's not the way things work. If workers control the means of production, are teachers workers or managment? Students are the ones who suffer the most. I feel that. I want them to be able to come to a school where the folks that are teaching them feel valued and maybe then can pass that along to their young audience. 

Because that is a routine that I know best.