Nothing & Everything Matters
“A nation that spends more money killing children than educating them has no future.” (MLK Jr)
For those of us in education, this time of year can be particularly draining and discouraging- especially when faced with yet another significant budget deficit in Seattle Public Schools and the looming possibility of 20 elementary school closures starting next fiscal year.
At WA-BLOC, we find ourselves having difficult discussions with school and city leaders. Their budgets (and therefore support for teachers, counselors, nurses, restorative practitioners, etc.) have been cut by the same institutions emphasizing the necessity of efforts promoting staff and student wellness. It’s hard: the demand for restorative practices and culturally affirming education continues to grow, yet school and city budgets for this work are diminishing or disappearing altogether.
On top of that, it is overwhelming to continue to witness the impact of decades of under-resourcing of our most precious assets- our children- while billions of dollars are funding their death and destruction.
In a moment of frustration and overwhelm the other day, I was strangely comforted by something my colleague said: Nothing and everything matters. "Nothing and everything matters" to me encapsulates the paradoxical nature of this moment where significance seems both amplified and diminished simultaneously. While our individual actions may feel inconsequential or overwhelming in isolation, I trust we are collectively contributing to a larger reality that supports and loves children.
We are buoyed by the hope instilled by young people on college campuses worldwide mobilizing for Palestinian Human Rights and a divestment from war. We are grounded by mutual aid efforts organizing to support refugee communities seeking housing and resources. We are driven by the reality that this summer our team will be intentionally crafting spaces for children to release and process the questions and fears that have accumulated over the past year - burdens that no one should bear alone. Amid a world where nothing and everything seems to matter, it's more important than ever to create spaces where our children do matter. Where their learning is rooted in joy, where they don't have to grasp too far for hope and instead are safe enough to question, to analyze power structures, and to organize against injustice. Where care and companionship rekindle our courage to not only hope for but organize against injustice.
Despite our collective grief and exhaustion, we must continue to practice hope and be each other's reminder that we are not in fact inconsequential.
—- Laura Wright