Usually, I am a teacher of young children.
Usually, I am on the floor of a classroom, listening to children, facilitating projects, laughing, reading, writing, filling paint, opening juice boxes.
My life has taken an accidental turn.
I am home, not in a classroom, and have been going through the collected work of my teaching life.
I am realizing there is a different kind of lesson in the silence of being home.
I am realizing that whatever 'usually' was is now offering me an opportunity to reflect on how I became a constructivist teacher, to remember the children and their voices that made my classroom life such a truly rich experience.