One of my most comforting snapshot-in-time memories is a stormy day in the first grade, walking into Mrs. Glantz's classroom, hanging my bright yellow slicker on the cubby hooks, and placing my bright pink boots and colorful umbrella on the bottom shelf. I can smell the plastic of the rain gear, I can feel the warmth of the school building, and I can hear the young voices of my classmates. The sweetness inside my elementary school walls did not change the storm outside, but it did make it bearable.
These last couple of weeks have felt stormy here in the DMV, as planes have fallen into the river, careers have been thrown into question, and livelihoods have perched precariously in time. Many in our community are feeling seismic shifts. As students walk into the studio and acknowledge their rattled nervous systems while they place their shoes in the cubbies before unrolling their mats, I have been silently praying that they find some of the same warm comfort that welcomed my first-grade self in from the rain.
We may not have crayons and story-time here at the studio, but we have the hallmarks of supportive and nurturing space: trained and caring teachers, the compassionate understanding of peers, and the warm embrace of community – for thirty years and counting, and now more than ever, we are here for you.
With love and care,
Annie Moyer