Winter Break and Other Ambitious Ideas

I went into winter break with a plan.

Actually, not a plan. A vision.

By the time we returned to school, I was going to

• Prep upcoming curriculum with color coded binders and backup plans
• Deep clean my classroom so it looked like it had never met children
• Scaffold work perfectly for individual students
• Create meaningful extension activities for early finishers that were educational, engaging, and somehow quiet
• Rethink seating so everyone thrived socially, emotionally, and academically
• Design hands on social studies and science lessons that made kids say, “Wait… we get to do this at school?”
• Learn to regulate myself better so I could help children regulate themselves better
• Read several professional learning books and complete required training modules
• And maybe, casually, plan an equity meeting and launch a school wide trauma informed, responsive discipline plan

You know.
Light break goals.

And to be fair, I did spend a lot of time thinking about these things.
Brainstorming.
Saving articles.
Opening documents and staring at them like they might organize themselves.

What I did not do was finish very much.

Now winter break is ending, and my brain has entered a new phase.

I am having dreams about returning to work and nothing being ready.
The room is somehow messier than I left it.
The kids arrive before I do.
My lesson plans exist, but they are in three different places and none of them are the right one.

During the day, I catch myself mentally redesigning the classroom or outlining the perfect system for early finishers while folding laundry. Or sitting on the couch. Or realizing I have been thinking very hard for twenty minutes without moving at all.

Here is the part I am holding onto.

Winter break is not meant to turn teachers into productivity machines.
It exists because teaching is intense. Because holding space for twenty plus humans every day is real work. Because rest, even imperfect rest, counts.

Progress does not always look like finished products. Sometimes it looks like ideas forming. Sometimes it looks like clarity slowly catching up to exhaustion.

I may not return with a perfectly transformed classroom or a fully realized master plan.
But I will return with care, intention, and a long list of ideas still very much alive.

And honestly, that is enough to start.
Right?