I went down a different exit this time. I'd never been out this side of the building during a fire drill. I followed the swell of students down the hall, down the stairs, and we got jammed up a little heading out the double doors. No shoving at all - the students were calm, quiet, and orderly. Suddenly a coworker was just to the front left of me, yelling "GET MOVING!" turning her head (and voice) - right - in - my - face.
I didn't hesitate. I yelled back, "WE ARE!" and kept moving forward.
I could feel the smoke coming out of my ears. I was furious. Furious with her yelling in the midst of the calm, with the message of her words (we were moving just fine - we're not supposed to run, correct?), with the irony of making sure kids are calm and quiet, and with myself.
I yelled back at a coworker. What is WRONG with me?! I hadn't been emotional lately. I hadn't been stressed out. I hadn't been under the gun when the alarm went off. I wasn't worried that it was a real fire. I was just... royally ticked off.
I tell my team that I may be in trouble (or at least get some flack) from this coworker. I relayed the story. I guess I was preparing them for if they heard otherwise. I went home. I processed with Hubby. I fell asleep. (I'm a very good sleeper!) I woke up. And I felt guilty.
I tweeted this out to my PLN:
I went to school, hoping I wouldn't see her, even though I hardly ever do. I forgot about it for most of the day. Then, I received an email from an educator (I've never met in person) from my online PLN. She sent me a sweet message that included this video from Brené Brown:
I teared up when I watched it (no, I have NOT been emotional lately!) at school, then shared it with my husband at home. This is how I'm trying to live my life. I've got a HOST of "permission slips" in my pockets. I am uncool. And I am okay with it.
When that teacher wants to chat about it, I'll be able to chat calmly.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for adding to the conversation!