I don’t begrudge my union brothers and sisters the right to strike. I envy them the leverage of the election and that the legislature did not strip them of the right to strike. While SEPTA drivers have bumped my bike three times, cursed at me in front of my children for having the temerity to ride in a bike lane, and cursed at me for asking that an elderly woman be allowed onto the 52 in subzero weather, they still deserve more than their current contract. (If you live in Philly, you have at least a dozen stories of crappy SEPTA drivers, and at least one or two of a driver doing something unbelievably generous and kind).

What’s happened to my class this week, though, is distressing. We spent so much time building community. Community is based on presence. With 22 individuals, we have our highs and lows, our recurring patterns (“no, I don’t know what you’re saying”, “why do you all have to care so much?”) and a rhythm that moves us through the days and weeks. I wish I’d taken a group dynamics course so I had a cleaner sense of how this works and potential strategies to address what happens when multiple individuals come out of the group. I’ve felt it at every level of education, as a student and a teacher, where a change in the group undermines everybody’s commitment to move forward. It almost feels like a new group each day, where we have to restart and re-make the culture, which is tough because that’s hard work anyway and doing it from scratch feels like a let down.

As a professional, I can keep moving the group forward, but it’s hard.