Friday, August 25, 2017

Shadow Dancing

Some random thoughts in the days after Monday’s solar eclipse.

It wasn’t long ago that I didn’t even know that an eclipse was coming this year. My son who goes to college in a town that was in the totality path told me. As it got closer, I found myself getting more excited. Even though we weren’t in the official totality path, I was excited that my school was recognizing this big event for what it was:  A Big Event! Our school ordered glasses for all students, staff and any visitors that might be in the building that day. We taught lessons about the eclipse in the days leading up to it.

I also ordered glasses for my family and was thrilled that my younger son drove down to my older son’s apartment at college and that they would experience the eclipse’s totality together.

The weekend before, I realized that many of the songs in my head somehow were falling into the theme of the eclipse and the #eclipsesongs hashtag was born.  Every few hours, I posted videos of songs whose titles somehow fit the theme. I even started getting reactions and a few joined in suggesting others. I put the list on a whiteboard in my classes and asked students to add songs to the list, which was fun to see. I think a new activity may have been born in my classroom: themed playlists from time to time to see what they might add to them.

The day of the eclipse, I played “Total Eclipse of the Heart” for all my classes. We watched Walter Cronkite’s CBS News report from 1979, turned on NASA’s live stream from Oregon and generally felt the excitement build until it was time to distribute glasses and go outside. Our school’s main hallway has a giant skylight.  During that last 20 minutes before we all went outside, you could see students and staff coming out of classrooms with their eclipse glasses to look up and see what was happening with the sun from inside.

On the field outside our school, the atmosphere was joyful. Some kids ran around playing tag...many others sat or stood in clusters wearing their glasses and looking up at the sky. Some tried doing the cereal box viewer thing or the paper viewer thing or the colander viewer thing. Many visitors came and it made me happy when my husband came too.

It didn’t get as dark as we’d hoped. I know for some, it was anti-climatic, but for me, I know that while it wasn’t 100%, so many cool things happened...we slowed down for an hour and observed. We listened and heard the crickets chirp during the day. It cooled off a little bit. We were able to pick out Jupiter shining in a not quite darkened sky. We saw amazingly beautiful sun crescent shadows on the ground as we went inside to get ready for dismissal.

When I went out for carpool, I took my glasses and kept putting them on to look and see the progress the moon was making as it headed off on the other side. And I realized at that moment that I was sad that it was ending. I couldn’t put my finger on why, though. Was it the same kind of sadness that comes after any event that you’ve been looking forward to is over?

And I finally decided that what had driven my excitement for this eclipse was the feeling that for a few moments this past weekend, we were all on the same team.  From coast to coast, we all looked forward to this solar eclipse. We weren’t talking about awful stuff going on in the world. It covered up the awful hurt I’d felt from the horrible things chanted in Charlottesville. For a few moments, we all slowed down and all eyes were (hopefully protected) looking skyward. And when it was over, there was that realization that there’s more of the same and more ugliness coming. And wouldn’t it be great if, for just a few minutes, we could grab these good feelings and find that place where we were all on the same team more often?

That’s what I want. For people to speak to each other, not at them. Listen to each other. And hear them. And see if we can find a place where we can look out for each other and remember that we are able to be on the same team and feel that feeling we felt as our protected eyes looked skyward as the moon’s shadow danced across the sun.

One more thought. Next time? In 2024? I’m driving to Totality!