This week, like teachers all over, I headed back into school, after leaving at the end of a teacher workday on March 13th and never going back to finish out our year in person. Though I’ve been back in my room a few times since, walking in for the first time this week was a bit of a gut punch.
I worked a bit on my room, moving furniture out of the way and putting tables into place so that it adheres to the new lower capacity of the space in preparation for that time in the future when we may have kids back in our building. I donned my mask and left my room and waved to old friends from a distance. I had my temperature checked, worried when it measured high, sighed with relief when the next try didn’t and answered the health questions with "no's." I took part in Zoom meetings, had Zoom conferences with parents.
I sat down and looked at my MacBook to start putting all the ideas I’ve had swirling in my head the past two months into actual lessons for next week’s first week of remote virtual school, using the different apps we’ve had professional development for and training on all summer. I stalled a little and then stalled a little more and then finally got to work. For real. Creating lessons, activities and assignments for students to work through on their own in their own homes. Asking myself, “Is this engaging enough? Is it too much work? Not enough?” Recording screencasts, stuttering and stumbling through words for an embarrassing too many seconds, hitting stop, delete and starting over wondering, “Am I too energetic? Not energetic enough? Will they get my personality or humor over video? Talking too fast?” (more than likely yes to that last one!). Thinking about how to best use synchronous Zoom sessions to build relationships and start creating awesome content this year.
I’m pretty sure some version of that scenario played out in classrooms not just on my campus, but in campuses across the country this week. And you know what I think people need to know? Particularly the ones who don’t teach children for a living? Or the ones who think teachers are lazy and don’t want to work because they expressed concern about scary rates of transmission and percent positive Covid numbers and worry for their lives and those of their family members? Or the ones who feel the need to protest impossible decisions forced upon school administrators in a country plagued by an unrelenting pandemic, yet don’t want to do the hard work to help make it go away because of a misguided political agenda? Or the ones who call themselves “pro life” but at the same time publicly express, “Well, some live and some die, that’s how life goes?” The ones who hold elected office and are insisting schools open for in-person instruction, even while their own children will be attending school virtually this fall?
They need to know that virtual school is absolutely real school. And it is an incredible amount of work to pull off and do well. They need to know that teachers everywhere would give anything to be with their full classes and do things the way they used to. That the safety protocols, while important and necessary, aren’t fun and will make school feel less like the “real school” some politicians are demanding when kids do finally come back. That they’re also all coming off a summer that wasn’t really a summer, where they’ve worked and learned and opened their minds to new ways of doing things, all in the service of doing what’s best for children and their learning, while also being aware that they need to be there to help with their social emotional needs, too.
If they’re like me, they’re scared and excited all at the same time. Scared of the unknown, scared of the uncertainty. Excited for new opportunities and learning and growth. When I recorded one of my course introduction videos, I told my students what a college professor I had in a summer course a few years ago said: “If we always do things the way we’ve always done them, then we always do things the way we’ve always done them.” What a weird but necessary gift we’ve been handed to try something new and see if this can bring education into a more modern era. That instead of technology for technology's sake in the name of "21st Century Skills," using technology purposefully and gaining true skills 20 years into the 21st Century.
Doffing my mask as I got in my car after finishing a week of work at school for the first time in five months, I got home feeling that Friday night exhaustion that used to feel so familiar. I scrolled through my Facebook page, reading post after post from teacher friends (at my school, across the state, around the country), all mirroring what I was feeling. That prepping for in-person school is easier than prepping for virtual. That they’re doing what teachers do. They’re thinking about how to make learning fun and engaging for children. Different this year, to be sure, but finding ways to give them the best of themselves that they can.
And so, here’s to the beginning of Year 17 for me, which is so different from how I started any of the previous 16.
