Eighteenth Day: The Final 50

The school district and the teachers’ union have come to a tentative agreement, and so it looks like we will be back in school some time next week.

I am grieving. The loss of family, any normalcy, predictability, kids’ progress, their friendships. The rest of this school year. I’m calling this my last 50 words as I’m deeming today, with the tentative agreement, as the last day of the strike. Technically, I’m wrong. But I’m wrong a lot.

Seven months ago my nephew died. He was a public school teacher. I could almost see him out on the picket line these past few weeks, an outspoken, confident, passionate young man. Shortly before his death, he was organizing a coat drive for kids in need.

Teachers shape our communities.

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