We grieve. We remember.

As we approach the one-year anniversary of the provincewide teachers’ strike, I have been thinking a lot about grief. That may seem like an unusual word to describe what happened to teachers last fall; however, grief is not reserved for the loss of a person. We can grieve the loss of expectations, trust, certainty or something we fought hard to protect.

I know something about loss and grief. Around the time of the teachers’ strike vote in June 2025, my mother died suddenly. There was no preparation for it. No opportunity to ease into it. Life changed in an instant. 

While I was grieving the loss of my mother, I was also leading our profession through one of the most difficult moments in our history: the government unceremoniously bringing an end to teachers’ lawful labour action

I do not pretend these two experiences are the same. They are not. They are profoundly different. But they both taught me that grief does not follow a schedule, it does not move in a straight line and it doesn’t need to.

For many teachers, the end of the strike brought its own profound sense of loss. We had stood together for our students, our classrooms and our profession. We had asked for sustainable solutions to class size and complexity, and the resources students need to be successful. Then, after weeks of collective action, the government ordered us back to our classrooms.

There was denial: Surely this cannot be how this ends? There was anger: How could this happen after everything we sacrificed? There was bargaining: What if we had done something differently? What if we had pushed harder? There was sadness, exhaustion, and the realization that we could not simply return to how it was before, acting as though nothing had happened.

And then acceptance, which is not agreement. It does not mean forgetting, and it certainly does not mean giving up. 

This past year, I have learned that grief does not disappear simply because time passes. We learn to carry it. Sometimes it returns unexpectedly. It could be a date, a memory, a familiar song, a conversation. I suspect this anniversary may raise feelings of grief for many teachers. 

We don’t need to be “over” what happened and our feelings of loss. Instead, we should reflect on what we have learned from our experiences and what we are prepared to do with that knowledge. We can grieve what was lost while still believing in what can be built.

The strike changed us and showed us our strength. We grieve. We remember. Then, together, we move forward defending the public education system we deserve.