Returning Home

Dorothy was only sleeping when she imagined her trip to Oz.  It was both a dream and a nightmare, but in the end it was only sleep.  Still, her heel-clicking  of those ruby slippers resonates with any long-distance traveler.  "There's no place like home.  There's no place like home."

I didn't need to run from vengeful wicked witches or dodge from flying monkeys.  There were no smoke trails in the sky warning "Surrender, Emily".  In fact, I was treated majestically and surrounded by fascinating people with hearts, brains, and courage.  Still, there is no place like home.

When I arrived at my Weiss Terrace house, it was great to kick off my shoes and snuggle with my three cats.  However, the real homecoming was arriving at room 418.  This is what greeted me here:



Furthermore, my graffiti boards had been updated:





This is my home, the world I have created, the world my students continue to help me create.

Unlike a chance encounter in the grocery store when someone asked me, "Did you have fun on your vacation to Poland?", my colleagues were completely respectful.  I had a deep conversation with our custodian about empathy, and I was able to gauge from my colleagues what they had time and energy to hear.  I was amazed how many people had at least narrowly followed my journey.  I was met with love and empathy.

It is in this safe place that I will keep doing my important work of awareness-raising and empathy-building.  We will continue to laugh and sing and contemplate Risk boards.  Rubik's Cubes will twist in active hands when conversations grow intense.  It's all good.  

I am home.


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