I want someone to put the world back together. The sky seems to be crumbling, and as I sift through the dust, I want to squeeze my eyes and imagine I’m just Chicken Little. I want a man painted with red and blue spandex to scale my house. I want Wonder Woman to arrive and demand that everyone instantly starts embracing love, peace and sexual equality. And then, once the super heroes arrive, I want Athena to suddenly appear and conveniently usher in wisdom.
I want the paranoia to dissolve. I want teaching to crawl from its anvil of checklists and prescription, and once again reassume its spot as an art. I want us to see kids as human beings and not data, and teachers as shapers not disseminators and interveners. I want kids to play outside again, and I want imaginations to soar. I want us to remember what its like to dream. I want us to be good. I want us to think. I want us to read. I want us to color outside the lines.
And I want us to trust.
I want people to listen to Walt Whitman and be curious not judgmental. I want our voices to matter. I want bitterness and revenge to melt away. I want us to work together. I want us to accept, to challenge, to refocus on what matters. I want us to strip away the hypocrisy, the jealousy, and the greed. I want us to reach out our hands, help each other up, pat one another on the back, and say, “you can do it; you matter,” because everyone matters.
I want to wake up feeling lighter. I want to rise like the flag. I want to reach for the moon. I want unity. I want love. I want people to stop killing—with words and guns and bombs. I want decency and civility. I want people to be generous and authentic and kind.
And until all of that arrives, I suppose I’ll have to be happy that Athena lives in my books, and my family and friends still make me smile.