Covid did a number on classrooms.

After three tumultuous school years, there was both excitement and trepidation returning to some sort of normal this year. I had an expectation that my classes would be just like they were pre-pandemic madness.

I was wrong.

There is a level of anxiety that remains among many. The toll on motivation is immeasurable. In some ways, maturity seems not to have stalled so much as to have regressed.

It is hard to engage the disengaged.

I spend hours preparing creative lessons, hoping to tear their attention away from their phones. Each day I would hope for better, but it is tough to stay motivated when they’re not.

And so I slipped into a sort of apathy, feeling like, why bother? I complained about the behaviours in my classroom, let negativity seep into my days. I could feel the weight of it in my bones. Christmas break could not come soon enough.

Then I spent those two weeks resting and reflecting. I read books, went to yoga, knitted, worked on my photography. And gave myself a talking-to.

Now we are back to school, and it’s not so bad. The behaviours haven’t changed. They’re still not motivated, and they’re still addicted to their phones. The challenges have not disappeared, and are not going to. But I realized that I get to choose how I react to a reality I have little control over. And I choose a positive attitude.

And suddenly it doesn’t seem so bad.