Bronwyn Harris, Author

  Second very long part of the prison visit report.   After we got all the paperwork filled out and went through the metal detector, we got visitation slips with the name of the inmate, and made our way over to the other building for visitation. This is not maximum security so thankfully you can just sit next to the inmates, and not be separated by glass or have to use a telephone to talk.    First, you get a gate unlocked and go into a holding pen that is of course in direct sunlight (or rain if it's that season) and surrounded by fences topped with razor wire. You wait there until the gate at the other end is unlocked. This holding pen was a little bigger and less claustrophobic than the other prison (I do not have any claustrophobia and I came very close to a panic attack once at the other place) and they opened the other gate more quickly. Then you walk, again in blazing sunlight (or rain) to the visitation building. This one was less of a walk than the other prison but I still

My former student, friend, and co-author was moved to a new prison during COVID. We (myself, Mitali, and his Abuela) have visited a couple of times via the video visit functionality they set up, but we've also been trying to visit in person, ever since in-person visits were allowed again. After four of them being canceled (sometimes we were told why, sometimes not), we finally got a visit. I was super nervous about this visit. (I felt better when Mitali mentioned that she was also, because she is an inherently positive and optimistic person!) I am not proud of this, but there was a large part of me that was hoping that the visit would be canceled, just like the previous four were. I felt a little better when someone I know messaged me privately to tell me that they had had very good experiences visiting a family member in that prison. But I still didn't sleep well at all that night, worrying about the guards, the many things that could go wrong, and the projected 111-degree hea

  (I have been putting off finishing this blog post for months. You'll see why)  Today, I was cleaning a bookshelf and I found the journal from one of my third-grade students, who I call Fred in my book , in 2001. I still had it because he didn't come to the last day of school to get his stuff this year and I guess it got put in a pile and somehow I've kept it with me.  He didn't come to the last day of school, probably because his family was a mess: dad in prison, mom in an abusive relationship, all the kids (understandably) acting out violently. Fred was expelled from our school in second grade for hitting a teacher. Then he was expelled from the other school, I don't know why, at the end of second grade. He came back on the condition from the administration that he be in my class because I had him as a student in first grade and he listened to me and worked well with me.  We had a really good relationship, although Fred was definitely not easy to have in class.

  Seven years ago, I was working at Harbor House, a subsidized after-school program, in Oakland, and we had the chance to have a children's author, Mac Barnett, come visit the kids. I emailed his assistant and asked her if he could visit both groups of kids: the K-2nd grade and the 3rd-5th graders. She wrote back and said he was only prepared to visit the younger kids (I think that was his policy at the time).  Well, a kid who I'll call "Adam" in 5th grade, had found out that Mac Barnett was coming and in preparation, had read a chapter book Mac had written ( The Case of the Case of Mistaken Identity ; check it out but preferably from your local bookstore). This was big news because it was the first chapter book Adam had read. In his entire life. So I told him to write a letter to Mac and I would scan it and email it, asking for an exception because he was such a big fan. I told him to ask if he could sit in the back very quietly as a helper, and told him to put a few

     Going back to school in the fall can be a difficult process in the best of years, but as we all know, we are definitely not living in the best of years. In the middle of a pandemic, kids, teachers, and parents are all struggling. We have to take care of ourselves and each other. I deeply miss not being a classroom teacher, but it does mean I'm  no longer just living in survival mode, and have a little more bandwidth. So I thought I'd offer some thoughts and suggestions for surviving and maybe, possible, thriving a little during another difficult year. I'd love to hear of anything else you might think of in how to support each other.  Anxiety is normal: It might help to remember that this year, anxiety is normal for everyone! Students, parents, teachers, support staff… everyone is worried. No one knows what this year will bring and I’d say everyone is on edge. That might not seem encouraging, but at least you can know you’re not alone. It might help kids (of all ag