where the lines blur

The first day of school with my students ended with a phone call as I was driving home. One of those calls that "takes your breath away". These first few weeks have been spent wondering and worrying about what's next for me, for my family?

That day I had asked the juniors to think about perspectives, not just their own but especially the Other. I asked them to spend several quiet minutes looking at Escher prints which I have on the wall around the room and one mural that a student created last year from one of his pieces. Here are some of their thoughts written on white boards next to the art:

the orb acts as a "looking glass" distorting the world in its own bias...

we can only see the outside, but you can't really tell what he is thinking/feeling or how he sees himself in the ball.

he sees himself as the center, distorted and larger than anything else

the transformation of ideas...

morphing of a story

change begins where the lines blur

They remind me. They have always reminded me. It's why I love teaching, even when it's exhausting, when life is exhausting.

myopia is a lonely place.

living in the blur often means change is coming

and maybe it's the type that grows wings...