Full Moon

Yesterday was one heck of a day. Actually, when I came through the door at home and my husband asked how my school day was, I forcefully threw my things down.

“It was one helluva day.”

“Helluva good day or helluva bad day?”

“Not good. It was weird.”

I don’t know how much of my story he followed, because I saw him looking around me at an old movie on TV, but I told him about a disrespectful student before lunch and two students I thought were going to come across my desk and throw punches at each other after lunch.

I already believed it must be a full moon when a friend texted that a school next to her husband’s workplace was on lockdown because of a possible school shooting and told how a customer came into her place of work and began cursing employees. I Googled “moon phase today” and couldn’t believe it was only a waning crescent moon.

By the time the two students calmed down, I said I’d be glad when the crazy day was over. I went on to tell about my and my friend’s mornings and how I couldn’t believe there wasn’t a full moon. Other students said it was a weird day for them as well.

“You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?” a student wanted to know.

I absent-mindedly said, “Umm, I don’t know.” Then, “Actually, yes I do. When I taught at the junior high, we teachers always knew when the moon was full. The kids would be sitting in the gym first thing in the mornings and the noise level and activity would be crazy.” I was planning on telling him I believed all teachers of young students know, and how my duty partner and I would make note of all the crazy shenanigans going on and predict the full moon, but he stopped me.

“It doesn’t work that way. I don’t believe in it.”

I sensed a religion lecture coming on and it wouldn’t be the first time. I thought by commenting on the moon, he assumed I might be into astrology.

I came back with, “Does the moon affect the tides?”

“Yes.”

“How much of our bodies are water?”

Another student answered, “60 or 70%.”

I spread my hands and held them out, meaning See, how can you not think it can’t affect us?

“She just told you!” I giggled a little inside when his neighbor offered him that.

The original student tried to continue his argument. “I just don’t believe in it.” Thank goodness the bell rang.

When I sat down at home to watch the 5:00 news, not only was the potential school shooting a headline (which turned out to be an incident outside the school and not an active shooting), but there was also a school shooting in the planning stages in another state that had been thwarted. And of course, my student was correct. The day was not affected by a full moon the way I expected it was. But it was strange, nonetheless. And thank God, it was Friday.

Ironically, there was another day on which the moon affected every student and teacher in our school district. August 21, 2017, we were all given solar glasses and filed out to the softball field. The anticipation of experiencing the total solar eclipse in all its glory made most of us giddy. As we waited for the moon to cover the sun, we chatted and watched as parents and residents stopped to join us.

Eventually, sunlight began to recede and the temperature became bearable. I instinctively moved away from everyone I had been talking to, to secure a private space outside the crowd. The phenomenon was quickly happening, and at the peak of darkness, we were instructed to remove our solar glasses. The silence became palpable. All eyes were heavenward and the only sound was our own breath and heartbeat. Locusts, which had been buzzing seconds before, went silent. I shivered from the drop in temperature and again at the “wedding ring”, the incredible effect of a sparkling diamond the moment the edge of the moon began to move off the path of the sun. I have to assume I wasn’t the only one on that field with tears in my eyes. What an effect the moon has on us.

We all walked more quietly back to our classrooms than we had arrived, introspective about what we had just seen and how profoundly it had touched us. I have no doubt each one of us will always remember that moment in time. That same group of students, teachers, parents, and residents will never again be in that same spot, sharing the same once in a lifetime occurance. Ah, what a powerful effect the moon has on us.

I’d like to hear about your moon stories. Please share. Or just sing Van Morrison’s “Moon Dance” and smile.

Photo by Serena Repice Lentini on Unsplash