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We’ve all been asked the question, “What are the most important things you would grab if your house was on fire?”

The task requires you to quickly make a small list of things most important to you. Common answers include photo albums, family heirlooms, jewelry passed down from your relatives, maybe the big screen TV.

What if you were asked the same question, yet the quick-moving fire was slow, crawling lava and the house was your school. What would you take?

On a Monday morning about a month ago, I went to work at Keonepoko Elementary in Pahoa, and by the time that I left that afternoon, I found out we would be closing the school in less than 24 hours due to the lava flow.

The following day the teachers met to share fond memories, say goodbye to our students, and to wish each other well. Over the next three days, we packed up the school, shed tears with our colleagues as we found out which side of the lava we would be working, and walked around an eerily empty school while making sure to organize and pack all the things we thought we needed to teach our students.

There were the “must haves” of curriculum and the desks and chairs. Movers came in and moved these things to disperse among school sites taking the influx of displaced students from our school. Everything else was up to our discretion and ours to pack and move.

Our goal was to take the books, resources, tools, and other supplies that what we thought we would need to teach at our new location.

And then it hit me. This was so much bigger than the color-coded worksheets I had laminated or expensive resource books or glittery art supplies.

After packing the essentials, which took a surprisingly short amount of time,  I stared at the rest of my slightly cluttered classroom and tried to figure out where to start. It was overwhelming, like so much of this slow motion disaster.

I wanted to make sure I got just the right things to teach the students, but be prudent so as not to clutter any new space. It was to be a new start, and I wanted what I brought to be well thought out and efficient.

Yet, as I walked around I saw so many things that I might use. I had a hard time actually whittling down the list to what I personally need as a teacher. I opened closets and drawers, pulled things off shelves that I had hardly used, if ever. I did not want to waste anything that I might need someday. What would I take?

After that first day I went home drained, more emotionally than physically. There was so much loss and grief triggered by packing up my classroom and our school.

Who knew what my new classroom would be like? Would I even have the same kids or the same grade level? What if I changed grade levels and brought all the wrong resources? What if I left behind a set of resources that would have been just perfect for my special education students? How could I leave behind all these things?

And then it hit me. My whole perspective changed. This was so much bigger than the color-coded worksheets I had laminated or expensive resource books or glittery art supplies.

With my new perspective, I packed the things that I knew were essential to helping me teach.

The most important thing I was going to take from that school was myself. The resources I most needed were my strength, my passion, my creativity, my teaching experience and my relationships. Everything else would be nice, but the most important thing that I had to pack and take was myself.

And I think that’s often lost in teaching. So often we focus on curriculum packages, data collection computer programs, mandated instructional practices and classroom supplies.  We fill our rooms with these things, thinking the success of our students depends on having them.

In reality, the most important tool and resource in a classroom is the teacher. We should be spending our energy, money and time cultivating their knowledge, experience, and creativity. We should honor their passion and their judgment, as well as their time. Without the teachers, none of the curricula, the computer programs, the laminated color copies and the classroom supplies come alive.

With my new perspective, I packed the things that I knew were essential to helping me teach. These were the things I touched every day. A few boxes were filled and much was put in storage. I did end up teaching a new grade level, which, before, would have panicked me. Yet my new perspective, the one that honored myself as the classroom’s greatest tool, allowed me to dive deep into new content and standards and embrace the change.

The students are doing great! We are learning together, forming relationships, and engaging. We are smiling, and laughing, sharing our experiences in respectful ways. We are learning how to support each other as this slow motion disaster continues to unfold.

If the lava takes a turn and we have to move schools again, I know what I would take.

It’s like a house fire. You take the most important things — yourself and your loved ones. Everything else is just a great support.