Adam and Christ: 12/02/21

Dear 35 year old Adam,

I've just turned 34. Last year I thought the pandemic would end with the roll out of the vaccine. Boy was I mistaken. In February of this year I was vaccinated but still to this day I have to wear a mask to work. It's been a strange year. Once vaccinated I was able to visit Brian, Alan, and Daniel in Cincinnati. We ended up finishing the school year "hybrid" which means half my class showed up on Monday Tuesday, the other half showed up Thursday Friday, with an asynchronous Wednesday in between. After the school year Travis, Brian and I flew out to summit Mt. Whitney. It was a very challenging hike for me. Probably harder than the Grand Canyon. Afterwards Tem met me out in California and we spent some time in San Diego, Los Angles, then flew to Sacramento. For the Fourth of July I was able to meet up with the boyos who helped me get through the pandemic through Xbox Live. We all met up in Cincinnati. Daniel moved to San Francisco. I was able to meet Alan's daughter and Daniel's son. This school year has been a challenge. The students I am teaching haven't been in a classroom or daycare. In addition Pollard took a new position in the district so we have a new principal. She's not exactly the same. The mood in the building is the dream team might be splitting up. I've been trying to see my brother and my niece more this year hoping she will be able to put the family to some form of normalcy. It's been strange watching my parents transition for parent to grandparent and Tyler from brother to a dad. And just like the my 33rd year, the Jesus year, has come to a close. Fuck these 30s are going by too fast. Mid thirties and it still feels like I'm 28 trying to get my adult life started. Adam, I've been writing these letter to you for a decade now. Pretty wild.

Things I'm doing now:
Tem and I are still in the condo together. I love her a lot she makes my life better in many ways. I'm not sure where I'd be without her but I'm glad for the growth I've had thanks to her. This is my fifth year teaching Kindergarten. Finally back in the classroom even though we are all still masked I'm grateful I don't have to hear the ding of the zoom waiting room ever again. I still hit the gym in the mornings three times a week I'm still reading books from reading list we made. Tem and I are ready for a baby although I know Tem feels as though I focus on that too much. I'm not sure where she gets that from I don't think I talk about it much. Maybe it's in her head or maybe I'm at fault either way I told her I'd wait until she's ready although if I'm being honest with you. I'd absolutely love to be writing about our child this time next year. But if not. No pressure, for either her or you. I just hope you two continue to grow and learn to love each other fuller and fuller. I still suck at journaling in fact this might have been my worst year. Tem and I did not make it to India or New Zealand. Sadly neither would let us in and if they did America wouldn't let us back in. Which might not be the worst thing in the world. The vaccine happened and it was free. That wasn't the problem. The problem turned out to be cable news and facebook convincing millions that it had a microchip, or it was killing people, or I don't know what other weird ass shit so many people were believing, my mom included. It honestly makes be a mix of sad and angry when I think about it.

Things I hope you're doing:
Honestly the biggest thing is, I hope you're a dad. I hope you force everyone to call you DADam. I hope you're getting shit sleep and constantly stressed about the health of your child. And I hope you're remember those days. I hope you and Tem are doing better than ever. I hope you cut the manbun and finally put it to rest. I hope you're school year is going well. You're reading lots of books. I hope you see Travis, Brian, Alan, and the boys fairly regularly. I hope you're an even better uncle than this year (we both know the first year of a human's life isn't exactly eventful.) I hope you got a good skincare routine going wearing lots of sunscreen, drinking water, and getting 8 hours of sleep. I hope you're still going to the gym maybe even doing yoga to stretch. I had this pain in my neck this year really rather not go through it again so I hope you figure that out. I hope you had fun in Tanzania. I hope Downing's wedding was great. And I hope you and Tem fill up this new passport I got you this year.

Things I've learned since turning 34:
After last year's hybrid school I got a taste of a smaller class size. Yes they were 6 feet apart and I wasn't able to rotate centers or pulling small groups but it was amazing how I had no behavior issues. This year my same students are driving the first grade teachers crazy and I was shocked. I've realized that the roughest behaviors can be solved with a smaller class size. This year I have 27 students. The most I've ever had. Going from 12 a day to 27 the least to the most in a matter of 3 months has been jarring. I don't know if I'm starting to get jaded or if I'm starting to get wiser but I've come to this place in my career. I can't save all of them. My oxygen mask needs to be put on first. The system is truly was is fucking them and the system is built to put that shame on me. Like when the corporations decided to put the recycling responsibility on each individual consumer rather than take responsibility for the actual cause of pollution and waste. These school districts are horribly underfunded and overcrowded. They move students through like an assembly line and I, the teacher, am stuck growing relationships with my students and feeling the guilt when I get stonewalled trying to help. The fact of the matter is this district is going to shove 27 students down the throat year after year, like waves in the ocean and they put the burden on my back. I absolutely can see why so many teachers walk away after a year or two. Who wants to carry this guilt and with such little pay? So I have decided to always choose the majority. Some students may slip between the cracks but I have an obligation to the parents and students of the majority of the class. If they won't cut it down to 20 students or give me a full time IA what choice to I have? I will continue to vote for politicians who want to fund education. I will always vote with my union to decrease class size. But as I learned if 70% of incarcerated Americans cannot read past a 4th grade level then I have an obligation to push as many as possible to read on grade level. I cannot afford to stop for the one when I have 26 others who depend on literacy as a key to every door. I'm not sure how I feel about Jesus forsaking the 99 to find the one lost sheep. Imagine that shepherd returning with the one sheep to find 99 slaughtered by a pack of wolves. I'm not sure it's the best way to watch over your folk. I suppose I should journal more so I don't end up ranting to my future self about things I could get of my chest on other letters. Anyway, I still struggle with the idea of death. This year I've been doing this thing each night before I go to sleep I think about how death, complete nothingness, is like sleep. Each morning I wake up and think about, what if I didn't. How the world has just kept going as every human who has ever existed has died. What is death? And if it is just nothing what can we do? What does it matter if you yolo your heart out in the end it's nothing. What does it matter if every human remembers and honors you, you're nothing. Better to be a living peasant than a dead king.