A Little Leap Day Nostalgia

Since we get an extra day this month – and it just happens to fall on our preferred publishing day – I thought I’d use this Leap Day to share something that’s a bit more personal than my usual EdInk content. February 29 has me feeling a bit reflective this year. You may remember that the last Leap Day fell in 2020, and it truly was the end of the world as we knew it, and although most of us didn't quite know that yet, we also did not feel fine. Working in media, I was carefully following reports of Covid overseas, and I was definitely an early alarmist in my circle – among the first of my friends to stock the pantry and prepare for the long haul. Even still, four years ago on this day (one leap cycle ago?) I couldn't have imagined the closing of schools, and what else we were in for.

Leaping (ahem) ahead to 2024, our school community is shaping so much of our lives – especially the boys lives – in incredibly positive ways. This past weekend, we hosted a trio of classroom guinea pigs, earned with “purchasing power” my oldest accrued for effort and good behavior in one of his classes. Yesterday, we were in his classroom, visiting a living museum in celebration of Black History Month. I met with Jesse Owens and Ruby Bridges in addition to Muhammad Ali, portrayed by my child in boxing gloves and a red hoodie.

Meanwhile, the school read-a-thon is going on, which means the kids are tracking their minutes in the hopes that they can win the grand prize of throwing a pie at the principal on Pie Day next month. It's also Spirit Week, code for themed days every day, including hats for Tuesday and pajamas for Wednesday, in addition to the Muhammad Ali costume. Yup, it’s a lot to keep track of. And I'm so happy to do it, so appreciative of the community we’re part of, so aware of how much the kids lost when school closed down.

But with all I’m celebrating about the – I'll use the word – normalcy of this school year, Wednesday was a reminder of how tenuous it is, how one disaster can spiral into many. The day started with a 5:15 AM tornado siren, followed by a series of contradictory messages from CCS over whether, and when, kids should head to the bus stop, followed – predictably – by hundreds of parents irate over the lack of clear information. (And also: my kids just did a tornado drill at school this past week. Do they not do those for bus drivers and transit folks? Shouldn’t they?)

The seeds of EdInk were planted during those early Covid days that I felt alone, that life felt impossible, that community felt so far away. And now that we’re in a better place to rebuild it, we’re seeing the need for it – the way a tornado, or a teacher’s strike, or whatever the next emergency is can disrupt the whole system. We’ve got a role to play in helping to set things right, in setting our kids up for more unpredictable times ahead. I’m confident that’s something we can do much better together. I hope you’ll stick with us and help us grow this EdInk community. Thanks for being here.

Still reading? You must like us! Please help us reach our goal of five founding EdInk donors by the end of March. Contribute today.