I'm sitting here on a Sunday, watching the snow fall in my backyard. It's our first official "real" snow. We had a dusting a few weeks ago, but nothing really stuck. This one, though, is "real." No blades of green grass peeking through. We have a solid blanket of white out there. It's been coming down steadily all day. Plus, we have the promise of several more inches to come.
It's is leaving all my teacher friends (and no doubt our students) texting about tomorrow, wondering if we will have a snow day. Please, pretty please, we ALL say!
There's something about the hope and promise of a snow day. Whether it's to run and go slip-sliding and sledding outdoors, or whether it's to stay snuggled in on the couch, by the fire, with a good book, the first snow is magical like that.
In the age of Zoom, remote learning, and the technology to make school happen at home, we all still--teachers and kids alike--still believe in the hope and magic of a snow day. We hope our administrators who make those big decisions to do too. Please, pretty please!
The world with its silent flakes falling from the sky blankets us with quiet and indoor comfort. It just seems to slow down life a little. More so with a snow day and the gift of time. Across the board, on teacher chat boards and much of the keynotes at the Future of Education Technology Conference I virtually attended last week, "time" seems to be the common denominator these days of what teachers need. It's been a hard year this year with pandemic-style teaching and teachers are tired. We all could use a little gift of time. Please, pretty please, let us have that wintery wonderland gift of all gifts: a snow day, a snow "yay!"
Follow up: Happy to report the decision came down: snow day, snow yay! And boy, was it delicious!
Image created at Canva.com with a photo from my backyard.