It’s a new year: a time for resolutions and renewals. It’s a time to evaluate the time we spent over the past year. It’s a time to look backward to look forward. 2020 was certainly a tumultuous year for us all. I endured some personal struggles and spent much time introspectively considering what and who was most important to me. I also experienced many moments of love, hope, and gratitude.
Usually, at this time of year, I really struggle to find that one word that will capture my intentions for the new year. I have never been great at resolutions, and for the exercise to be meaningful, the word has to be one which will guide my actions and decisions for the year.
And yet, this year, the word came upon me very easily. I was walking Dax, our 2 year old rescue, on the path behind my house. Like many days, there are several stretches where the only sounds are the pitter patter of Dax’s paws, the crunch of my boots on the snow, and the soft wind whistling through the trees. In that silence, the word whispered:
LISTEN
In a Book Study with fellow teacher-librarians at my District, we read, We Got This, by Cornelius Minor who talks about building a bridge for students between the content we teach and their own lives. I need to get better at listening to my students: their struggles, their passions and their joys to understand how to best connect with them, support them, and teach them.
In my isolated office, I would sometimes go for days without seeing an actual human. I would jump in to teach classes online, but what was missing was the relationship building that comes from having a space in the school where students and staff gather. When staff did come to the Library Learning Commons, I made myself get up from my office chair to say hello (6 feet apart of course). It is in these moments that I was able to see and hear the struggle which a new year will not magically heal. It reminded me that I need to listen to my staff as they continue to do their best to support students learning remotely and in person at the same time. I need to listen to know when they need support and when they just need an ear.
This past year has really blurred the lines between work time and family time. Especially when we were working from home, I found myself answering emails and jumping onto Google Meets at all hours to support staff and students. But at what cost? This year, I need to listen to my family when they say I have spent too much time working and not enough time being attentive.
This year, in a single moment, I made a comment which I couldn’t take back. I did not practice my own advice about erring on the side of love and multiple perspectives. I jumped to advise, instead of truly listening to understand. The incident reminded me of how important it is to listen to perspectives that are outside of my own and which may make me uncomfortable: to listen to interrupt my own cognitive biases whenever I can.
More than ever before, 2020 had me feeling like I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t helping enough, blogging enough, hosting enough podcasts, writing enough, presenting enough, creating enough content, learning enough. I need to stop listening to whatever part of my brain is trying to undermine my confidence. I am enough. I need to listen to that voice more often in 2021
On the many quiet days of walking the dog; three times a day, I remembered the words I heard my friend, Christine Way-Skinner speak a long time ago: You are a human being, not a human doing (original author unknown). In 2021, I need to listen to my body and my brain when I need to just stop doing, to just be.
Below are my some of my other #OneWord reflections. What is your one word for the year?
2020 — Joy (I think I truly did find moments of joy in 2020)