An Ode To Co-op

 

I remember writing a blog something like 6 weeks into the pandemic, shocked that it was going on so long. We truly had no idea that it would be over a year until vaccines started rolling out and the world would start feeling a little more safe again. 

I am curious how we’ll remember this time. Already hindsight is filtering out some of those sharper edges, although I still find myself nervous at grocery stores, scared to touch public handles, defaulting to a mask when we’re out – even when fully vaccinated. We went to a school friend’s birthday party in May; it was outside at a park…but man, we did not think of how the kids would react. As soon as we reached the hive of other kids we hadn’t seen in over a year, buzzing around the tables, shouting “Addie, where have you been?? Are you virtual??” when we arrived, Addie and Bria just kind of froze. Adalyn said she just wanted to stand instead of sitting at the table of kids, and could barely muster up a response to her friendly classmates who were inquiring, and had been back in hybrid school for about 3 months. She was legitimately overwhelmed, and at first, I tried to push past it. But she wouldn’t let go of my side. Eventually I took her aside and asked if she was feeling nervous. And then all her fears came spilling out. What if they got covid? What if someone was sick and we didn’t know it? What if her friends didn’t recognize her? What if she didn’t know how to the play the games? All the things. After she let all that out with some tears, she was able to join in the fun a bit. Hesitant, but at least trying. It got easier, each time.

That day I realized that whether we realize it or not, despite how lucky we’ve been with our family’s health and jobs….we are changed. 

I wrote all this down right as co-op was wrapping up, to preserve the memories of our school year, before life moves too fast again and it all becomes blurry: 

Co-op has been our school. Everyone in our city’s public schools started the year virtually. In October, some children went two days a week, two days online. Some stayed virtual.  In April, many families decided to go back 4 days a week. We stayed online the whole year. When we found out in August that we’d be virtual, Elise sent out an email to our families saying “Hey, remember how we joked about a co-op if school wasn’t in person? Well….Let’s do it.” And so Ivy Creek Co-Op was born.  We were beyond lucky to have a group of families who could each take one day a week to teach at their house. So we rotated among the 4, then 5, families, Monday-Thursday. 5 PK/K kids, 4 second graders, and 2 toddlers. For lack of a better format, our little co-op……. 

-built and problem-solved 

-traveled across the world, met friends from all over on zoom or in masks who came to talk to our little group under the porch

-created games, intricate and hilarious – from Wild School to band practice and song writing to a weird cat one we still don’t get, to Native Americans, the kids trying out some of the traditions and facts they learned about tribes. 

-dug holes, climbed trees, played in mud, splashed in puddles, rode bikes, scooters, and the occasional lawn mower 

-field trips to orchards and airports and trails and farms and kum ba yah 

-stressed about seesaw, worked on seesaw, got better at seesaw, forgot about seesaw, attempted systems for seesaw, and still stressed about seesaw 

-learned ukulele and what it means to hear yourself sing, to stomp in rhythm, to learn from music from two talented friends who have played to crowds of thousands but now sat in a circle with 9 little ones, teaching them to strum, hum, and find the flamingo chord  

-learned sign language and a respect for people whose ears don’t hear like ours but who communicate in a totally beautiful and accessible way, one we can share in as long as we try 

-read books, so many books. Talked about the books. Talked about the sounds. Talked about the words. Talked about the pictures 

-manipulated math goodies, counting and thinking outloud across the dining room table with Granny, who loved their number sense and ah-ha’s 

-ran relays, sprinting across dewy lawns and around backyards to slingshot to the next person 

-discovered the secrets of coding, how to click some keys and command a computer, swirling shapes and other programs my brain doesn’t even comprehend 

-loved on everyone’s pet, got to know neighbors, understood the rules of each person’s house, the favorite corners, the favorite parts of the day, the favorite moments 

-baked, cooked, experimented

-made a million messes. 

-cleaned up half those messes 

-camped, with fires and songs and coffee and the chill of fall 

-beached, 20 of us piled at the farmhouse to make spring memories 

-jumped from sand dunes, slept under the stars 

-danced. Underdog, Jojo, The Greatest Showman, My Shot, Bad to the Bone. Ed Sheeran. 

-cut apples, sliced cheese, poured pretzels and popcorn, swirled smoothies, baked bread, chomped through cookies, tea partied in England, and served up about ten thousand snacks that still didn’t fill those kids’ bellies 

-built things, painted things, drew things, glued things, sewed things, broke things, discovered things 

-so much more that I just can’t even remember. Already. 

There was a lot of magic in this year. 

That’s not to say it was all perfect. 

Our kids fought; they had their moments of drama. They drove us a little bit crazy. They were too loud and crazy some days; they had meltdowns; they would all talk at once instead of listening. Our own kids were always worse on their “home” days. The parents had to work through a continuum of differing approaches to how co-op should work – none exactly the same, but all close enough to work. 

But throughout this year, this group of friends became family. We started as a bubble, and we became each other’s village, loving each other’s kids like they were our own and learning each other’s stories and histories and drives. 

I’m thankful for each of the kids. Magnolia’s magic with words and Jona’s belly laugh from the swing. Ryan’s earnest nonchalant reading chapter books and Kassi’s joyful chatter. Isaac’s dance moves to Underdog and Elliot shouting “Ms. Caw-ly!” with a grin. Nora’s side-eye and quiet pride when effort paid off and Sydney’s straight-up Real Talk. Bryce sprinting towards Pops, Addie coordinating shows, Bria laughing with her friends. 

I think co-teaching/co-parenting a group of kids with 4 other families and coming out on the other side still loving and respecting and appreciating each other is a pretty wild gift. We were friends with all of these parents before co-op, but I feel so close to each of these friends now. And I appreciated what they gave the kids with all my heart. Adam always had energy for freeze tag, always challenged them to problem-solve. Elise gave them confidence and wide-open creativity. Kristen, with her books and games and questions, always listening, always pointing out a detail they remembered, a friend I could process life with on Wednesdays. Megan and her passports, stamped with memories of food and guest speakers pulled from different corners of the world and a work-wife I could lean on during the moments we snagged of downtime. Matt with his energy, games, taking his day off from the hospital to teach.  Sara, ever-understanding, a safe place with a huge heart, and a channel of music for these kids to find their sparks of art. Park, the zen to our den, making each child feel important and seen and loved. Sheaff, jumping in during lunch hours to draw basketball courts and be a coach again, to play tag and uno. Granny bustling in and out with her math supplies and giant number lines and different ways to thinking about working through problems. I loved the morning and afternoon chats in the yards when we dropped off; everyone’s willingness to help out whichever family needed it that week; the way we just kind of fit together as our lives overlapped in such a significant way. 

And I’m sure if I asked each of the co-op kids, they’d all have something different they loved about our motley crew. 

We called ourselves the Ivy Creek Co-op because the same creek winds through each of our yards or neighborhoods.  We are all headed back to our different ‘real schools’ this year, but I wanted to write down just what this year was like, what adventures and what friendships sailed down those creek’s waters and landed on our doorstep, something that feels like it's going to stick to my heart for a long time, like a bright patch sewed onto fabric - meant to cover a hole, but declaring its own colorful and bright and beautiful story. 

And really, that sort of magic, it's not the worst thing to come out of a pandemic.