Conrow Christmas Vacation

 

For only the second (third?) time in my teaching career I am neither traveling nor hosting family for my two week Christmas break. One year my husband was consulting, and had a gig across the country between Christmas and New Years. There might have been another year in there when we stayed home and no one came to visit, but if so, I can't remember it.

In recent years, we've traveled much more than we've had visitors. My brother and sister in law have six and seven children each. Even when we had two foster children, it was much easier for our family to find place to sleep in their homes than vice versa. My parents usually come up for Christmas when we're not planning to be with my in-laws, but I'm glad they are choosing their health over holiday travel this year.

This year, we are adhering to government guidelines and having Christmas at home, just the four of us. My husband is taking the second half of his sabbatical this month because we couldn't travel last summer when we had originally planned to visit Europe, Australia, or my dad's native Peru. So the four of us are home, with no schedule to adhere to for the next two weeks (my husband and college student have five and three weeks, respectively, but my high school student and I only have two weeks off).

Today is the first official day we have all had off, though the break mentality did begin on Friday when I drove to school to pick up Christmas gifts delivered by my students' families. Friday also included my virtual staff party, complete with a door dash delivered lunch and Zoom games. The party was completely different from previous years, and not as much fun for me, a decided introvert in large group settings. But my school's "sunshine committee" did an exceptional job given the constraints of 2020.

I'm doing my best to enjoy this low key holiday season. I did all of my shopping online, mostly on Thanksgiving weekend. The delivery boxes stacked up under my desk until this weekend when I finally wrapped everything and set up a little indoor holiday display. With the addition of two kittens to our home this month, we opted not to bring our whole artificial tree inside. I was worried that the kittens would trash our display overnight, but so far they have totally ignored it. 

Staying at home makes for a much more relaxing break for me. I like not worrying about when I will grade the assignments that were turned in during the last days of last week. I felt this over Thanksgiving as well, when I was able to write my report card comments from my at home work space without worrying about how much time they were taking or who I was ignoring while I was working. 

It's only Monday, and I am not sure how I'm going to fill my time over these next two weeks. I have an itch to travel, and would love to have a tropical locale booked, on the calendar to look forward to in the near-ish future. But sitting with a napping kitten in my lap, thinking about holiday movies to watch, and the possibility of baking some ill-shaped holiday cookies this week feels quite relaxing.

Even in the midst of a pandemic, I am blessed. I am truly lucky that the biggest disruption to my life has been to curtail travel. Teaching from home is a pretty big difference, but it's not a disruption.

Teacher Grief

 Today I attended the funeral of a former student, who was in my fifth grade class four short years ago. It's only the second time I've attended an end of life celebration for a former student. Even though I attended today's Mass via Facebook Livestream, it was just as emotionally gut wrenching as the first.

Amos* passed away on the first Sunday of Advent, after fighting leukemia for over a year. I thought I was fine, that his death really didn't impact me because I had been outside of his community for the past three years. Even though I vividly remembered his bright smile and positive leadership as a ten/eleven year old, I felt on the outside. I hadn't been a part of the school and parish wide prayers for him or even known much about the progression of his illness. 

Of course my former co-workers (who are once again my current co-workers) had told me when he was hospitalized and gave me sporadic updates. When I came back into the building for the first time after getting re-hired this summer, his class photos were in every room with the caption, "Praying for Amos*." I think that's when I started to feel "outside" of the ongoing community wide support system for him and his family. While I had been his fifth grade homeroom teacher, I had missed his seventh and eighth grade years and his illness had not been a part of my daily consciousness.

Listening to his mom and sister, who is also a former fifth grader of mine, and his classmates, all former students of mine, offer up words of remembrance brought memories of his fifth grade year flooding back. I have been off and on crying ever since. This young man had his whole life in front of him, and by all accounts it would have been an amazing life. He was a talented soccer player, a natural leader, a brilliant student, who sang with a strong, confident, clear voice.

I don't know how parents cope with the loss of a child. I am barely functional and I hadn't seen this kid for four years.

*Not his real name.

December 2020

 Into this climate of fear and apprehension Christmas enters,

Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope

And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.

The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,

Come the way of friendship."

~Maya Angelou (2005)

I am on the eve of the last week of school before the end of the calendar year. I have so many mixed emotions surrounding the end of 2020 and the start of a New Year. I know I'm not even halfway through the academic year. I knew I wanted to be a teacher from the time I started kindergarten, and I have a late summer birthday; the academic year has been a more important guidepost for me my entire life. But this year, the calendar year upstages the academic year. 

I have no way of knowing what 2021 will bring, and I am fearful that June will bring yet another transition in my career. My current school hired me to help reduce class sizes, enabling six feet of of distance between student desks in all classrooms. Thus far my grade level has not been in the building for instruction, but there are high hopes in my administration that we will be back in the building sooner rather than later. But come the end of the year, I will be a new hire in a school that will almost assuredly be looking to reduce the size of its staff. These thoughts had me scrolling through LinkedIn this weekend. But I cannot apply for jobs yet. I have to finish this school year for the sake of my students.

Building relationships with students has always been a huge part of my teacher identity. This year, building relationships has been markedly different, but it is still at the core of who I am as a teacher. I have introduced my students to my pets and used funny voices to introduce new topics and keep them engaged. I have scheduled weekly one on one meetings with each student and made sure to send missing work emails to students and their families as soon as I discover a missing assignment. I have sent postcards at least once a month with quotes and jokes to my students' homes.

I am rewarded with pictures of student pets, funny comments on assignments, and emails with information about their daily lives.

 

I have one student who sends me tens of chat messages a day and requires me to close my email when I am in meetings because my computer will ring with an invitation to a video chat. If I answer, the student invariable hangs up. But regardless of whether I answer or not, he will leave the Hangout and open a new one, and send another chat message, or even another request for a video call. It's draining. Incredibly so. But he is a very cute nine year old who is just reaching out for some contact, for a relationship with his teacher.

Students this year didn't do anything to cause the disasters that have befallen their communities or the additional stress that their teachers are facing. Even though 2021 doesn't look like it's going to be any easier than the current year these kids deserve the best I can offer. I'll deal with the next step in my career in a way that will not impact my current students.

Teaching Science From Home

 In the Primary Years Programme of International Baccalaureate Schools (and candidate schools) social studies and science units generally alternate throughout the school year in order to allow for enough time each day to take a deep dive into each Unit of Inquiry. My school had a virtual authorization visit in late October, and we are waiting to hear whether or not we will be authorized as an official IB school. As a candidate school, my grade level begins the year with a social studies based unit, and we just recently began our first science unit.

It's a very cool unit on the birth of rocks with a fossil find as an anchor phenomenon. This is why I was able to use my DIG Field School experience, a week in eastern Montana with University of Washington paleontology grad students, as an introductory teaser just before Thanksgiving. After each set of lessons students will return to three questions surrounding the fossil find:

1. How did the animals die?
2. How did their bones end up so far underground?
3. What happened to uncover the fossils, allowing them to be discovered after millions of years?

Students will revise their hypotheses several times as they uncover more information. Next week's lesson is about the difference between shield volcanoes and cone volcanoes and thick and thin lava. In a normal year all students would get a cup of thin "lava" and a cup of thick "lava" to blow into and try to shape into a mountain. Since the "lava" is water and a flour and water mixture, students can still do this at home. But just in case the experiments are challenge for some families, I recorded a demonstration of the process today.

My husband is amazing, and pulled out his camera gear to assist. We filmed less than five minutes of footage, but the whole process took at least half the day. I discovered after we were set up that I have no red food coloring. But I found purple food coloring. I decided that since Mrs. Conrow is known for her crazy purple hair and car, I could have purple lava for my demonstration. Hours later, I hope I was able to splice the video appropriately for the slide show that will be presented to my fourth graders on Tuesday.

It was fun, even if it was incredibly time consuming. I really enjoyed blowing into the thick lava. It was fun to try to shape into a mountain as well. I certainly hope the students are able to complete the activity on their own.

I am grateful I have a husband who is supportive of my career and a household that allows me to film science demonstrations on a Saturday morning. My son took his new kittens behind a closed door so they would not disturb the filming. My other teenager slept through the entire set up, demonstration, and clean up. How many teachers during the pandemic are facing much more challenging situations when they need to do something similar for their students? Even face to face teachers might have had to film a demonstration in order to do this activity in a physically distanced format. This year is so weird... here's to hoping that it gets better in 2021.

Kittens - My 16 year old's birthday present.

A Litany of Thanks

 I know 2020 is a challenging year for everyone on many levels. But November is the month to remember reasons to be thankful. It's a matter of where you choose to place your focus. I could focus on the recent spikes in COVID cases leading to another round of partial business shut downs, the crazy political climate of the country, or even the wet weather with the sun setting before 5:00pm. But what will that accomplish? Instead, here is a list of things for which I am thankful.

• My student who was missing over 20 assignments turned in all of her late work last week.
• The adult sister of my student whose anxiety prevents her from participation in lessons or asking questions has jumped into help. We have scheduled daily check ins that have already improved work completion and the student's comprehension.
• I picked up a new virtual tutoring student based on a referral from my current student's family. The email that connected me to the new family included the words, "my son's awesome writing tutor!"
• I received a set of fabulous thank you cards from my students this week (did you know it's teacher appreciation week?) - heartfelt and funny. They made me smile, laugh, and cry.

• I have been told by a couple of co-workers that they are hearing positive things about me from the parent community, including how clear it is how much I care about the kids.
• I got to share my DIG Field School experience with my students as part of the anchor phenomenon to our new science unit.

• There are no lessons to plan for next week because it is fall conferences followed by Thanksgiving.
• On the last day of restaurants allowing dine in customers prior to the current shut down, my oldest child requested dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory. Just the two of us ended up a nearly empty restaurant for dinner and had fantastic conversation. My 18 year old is funny, observant, thoughtful, and reflective.
• The funny positions my 16 year old has always chosen for working or reading.

• Eight months into working from home during a global pandemic, my husband still makes me laugh nearly every day. 
• I get to hear my husband literally laughing and clapping during work meetings on a daily basis.
• Students posting connections between lessons and their real lives in Google Classroom.

• A friend recommended a mutual friend ask my advice on navigating the behavioral health system on behalf of their adopted child. My advice was well received.
• I have been reconnecting with my friends in California during the pandemic.
• Being told I'm having a "good face day on Zoom" by a parent during a meeting.
• Being told by a fellow teacher that she took a class on building relationships during remote learning and she kept thinking of me because she feels I do this well.
• Social media has allowed me to keep seeing the faces of family and friends in other states and countries.

Suddenly It's November

 My school has stopped giving projected dates for when more grades will return to the classroom. K-2 have been back for a few weeks, and we thought 3-5 would follow quickly, but the local case numbers have been on the rise ever since the younger kids went back into the building. We went from projecting end of October, to projecting beginning of November, and have landed at reminding families we won't be going back without giving them 10 days of notice. For the time being, coming on campus requires a daily individual health screening.

If I have to teach virtually, I prefer to teach from home. The lack of a commute is a bonus, but not the reason that my preference hinges upon. I signed up for the 10 miles of heavy freeway traffic when I took the job. But I have a great home set up. I'm lucky enough to have space in my bedroom for a large desk with a huge monitor and a purple gaming chair. The desk is even sit-to-stand. I have a nice enough chair at school, and I use the SmartBoard as a second monitor, but there's something surreal about being in the classroom without students. And the SmartBoard is showing its age, not always working well enough to be used as a second monitor, thus relegating me to struggle to navigate multiple windows, each with multiple tabs, on a small laptop screen while attempting to maintain student attention.

Did I mention that there's something surreal about being at school these days? I have one student who comes for an in person session once a week. It's the hardest thing to not walk up to her computer and help her navigate by pointing at her screen or performing the needed key strokes for her.  It's nice to hear the kids and teachers in the two classes that are in person on my hallway, but the sense of normalcy falls away when you peek inside the rooms and see the kids physically distanced, wearing masks, behind clear plastic shields.

I saw about a third of my students in person on Friday when our grade was invited to attend mass in person. It was so good to see them, and a good reminder to me at just how little most fourth graders are. Coming back down to primary after several years in middle school has left me working to find the right balance for my newest group of students. I am continually second guessing my expectations, looking to challenge my students without overwhelming them. Thankfully, many of my students seem to be coping with distance learning well, showing evidence of having fun and learning on a regular basis. They just turned in realistic fiction stories, and they were very cute. I enjoyed reading their short stories, smiling and laughing at quite a few of them. Thankfully, their parents appear to appreciate my efforts as well.

We are making the best of the situation, looking for creative ways to participate in the annual October activities. The jog-a-thon was dubbed a move-a-thon this year, but we still chose a theme and dressed up in costumes. My grade band team still picked a Halloween theme and made sure to take a picture.

November comes with the teaching interruptions of conferences and Thanksgiving. Thanks to "falling back" to standard time my area is now seeing the sun set in the four o'clock hour. It's traditionally a hard month. December is generally easier, with holiday festivities, a two week break, and reaching the solstice  which will mean we will begin gaining minutes of daylight each day once again. But first we have to get through this month.

The COVID case numbers in the county where my school is located are on the rise. There was more than 50% jump in target numbers (number of cases per 100,000) last week over the week before. After the weekly numbers came out, we got word that the earliest date my grade band might return to school will be November 2. 

My classroom still isn't quite ready to receive students, but it's close. It's incredibly difficult to find time to work toward setting it up now that the school year has already started. There's always something more pressing to do, like stay on top of my email, grade assignments, plan the next activities, and digitize assignments. I could stay really late or work on the weekends if I had to get it done, but I am already working on the aforementioned tasks during those times so I'm trying to continue to just do a little at a time. The room still looks stark, but rather than bringing in my classroom library and declaring it off limits, I'm leaving it in boxes at home. Rather than bringing in containers for shared supplies and having them sit empty, I've left them with the boxes of books.

Last week I was told my classroom will need to have plastic shields up on each student's desk. I got my set out of the workroom and brought them down the hall to my classroom, but haven't brought myself to set them up yet. The idea of each of my students sitting behind a plastic screen, not moving around the classroom is difficult to grasp. I'm told they are working well in the K-2 classrooms, but I do wonder what will happen with older kids who are bigger and work more often out of books. They may end up on the floor frequently in the older grade levels. 

In the midst of all of the crazy of getting a classroom ready to teach in the era of COVID-19, I am feeling very welcomed back into the building. People keep saying things like, "I'm so glad you're back!" and "We were lucky to get you back." When I was in last week, one teacher walked in with a gift for me. She said she was shopping and when she saw it, she had to buy it for me. 

While many things about teaching are different this year, some remain the same. I'm primarily teaching from a corner in my bedroom, but I'm still building relationships with my students and getting animated during lessons. While I'm not jumping up and down or standing on furniture as I would in person, my husband has commented about my lively tone of voice and arm waving as I teach. I'm pretty sure my neighbors have also noticed my arm waving. At least I'm teaching with the windows shut as the weather has shifted toward a cooler pattern.

Even over Zoom, students are making me smile and laugh on a regular basis. I have a few who contact me daily on Google Hangouts. Some send emojis, others greet me every morning, and one gives me regular air quality updates. Fourth graders are fantastic. I'm enjoying this year despite all the unprecedented challenges.

This was my favorite response to a Growth Mindset reflection.

How is it Already October?

 It's not like I'm itching to have 2020 continue to linger, but how the heck did we slide into October already? I still don't know when I will be teaching students who come into the building, but the time is likely inching closer. The school where I worked last year welcomed back K-5 students last week and my current school is welcoming back K-2 students on Monday. 

For those of you who have lost track, I'm teaching 4th grade this year. Now I can say I've taught every grade, third through eighth without the qualifier, except fourth. I guess it was inevitable I'd end up with a fourth grade gig. But I digress.

I had a co-worker ask last week if I was excited about the idea of returning to school. I told her I think "excited" is the wrong word, but there are several reasons I am anxious to get back in the classroom: 

• I have one student who has close to 20 missing assignments, and I have had zero response from the several emails I've sent to her parents. 
• I have another who has too much anxiety to turn on the camera  or mic, and only interacts during class time with a private chat, "here" during attendance check.
•  I have a few students who are off track in their brainstorming for our writing lessons, but don't appear to be reading my notes on their assignments or listening to my redirections during our Zoom sessions. 
• I have so many individual meetings on my calendar that I don't have adequate time to answer student questions that come in outside of their individual meetings.
• I am spending a shocking amount of time digitizing resources in a fourth grade friendly fashion so there is *less* chance that they will accidentally delete the instructions or formatting of their assignments.
• I know I would be doing a better job of teaching these kids if we were in person.

However, I also see many challenges to coming back in the building. Without considering the possible scariness of increasing my students' and my own risk of coming into contact with a virus that has caused a global pandemic, any form of in-person teaching this year will not be like teaching during any other time in my 20 year career:

• Entering the building will require daily health screenings and temperature checks. Those who pass will get a colored dot on the color of their uniform shirt indicating they have permission to be on campus.
• Desks are spaced as far apart as possible to still allow 15 students per classroom.
• Class sizes are capped at 15 to ensure maximum physical distancing.
• Students will only be able to interact with their "cohort" - homeroom classmates for the entirety of the school day. I honestly don't know what this will mean for recess.
• "Interaction" will be limited to that which can happen from a distance of six feet or more.
• Group work will be nonexistent.
• Shared classroom supplies of pencils, paper, erasers, silent reading material, etc. have been removed.
• Students will need explicit permission to get out of their seats and move around. Acceptable reasons for moving around will be limited.
• Everyone in the building will be required to wear masks which will 
• make it challenging to hear/understand many students, 
• cause my chin to break out, 
• and probably give me daily headaches (I can't even wear stretchy headbands for a full teaching day without getting one). 

COVID numbers in my area are on the rise again. The President was hospitalized after a positive COVID diagnosis this week. These are not just unprecedented times, they are uncertain times.

In the midst of all of this, I have finally been able to spend a bit of time getting my classroom ready to receive students. The science teacher finished clearing out as much as she could from shelves and cabinets, and the vent that recirculates air was repaired (the science teacher says she never heard it run in the decade the classroom was hers... and upon opening it, it was discovered that it did not have a motor inside). Getting those items checked off the list should put a stop to people needing to shove the physically distanced desks back toward one another. 

I have scrubbed off the fine grit that settled on every surface with the removal of a wall of cabinets and the subsequent wall repair and floor scouring. Nametags are laminated and waiting to be cut an affixed to desks. IB attribute posters are likewise laminated and are ready to adorn the walls. I have put up many of my own decorations, including above a window that required standing on the newly repaired vent.

There's still work to be done, but it's getting closer to looking like a cozy classroom. Well, as cozy as a classroom be with all the new requirements in place.

Mid-September Lessons

 Everyone is at their wit's end. These are the words my husband said to me when, on my second curriculum night, I had a parent email with concerns that were identical to a different parent's concerns that had been the cause of a series of emails that ended with the parent basically saying, "Oh, okay. Thank you." Both families were asking for information that they had already been provided. This kind of thing happens every year, as parents and teachers get to know one another's styles. But this year the tone felt more anxious and more stressed. Of course parents are more anxious and more stressed this year. It was a good reminder for me and helped me shift my perspective on having to go through the same discussion all over again.

It's just the weirdest year ever. On top six months of the "new normal," the west coast got hit with massive wildfires this week. Those of us who are lucky enough to not have to worry about losing our homes are now advised to stay indoors with the windows shut against the worst air quality in the world. Now we all have COVID-19 symptoms: Cough? Check. Sore throat? Check. Shortness of breath? Check.

Okay, so even though the list of woes could go on and on (the online grading system wouldn't accept new assignments today, part of a pier in Seattle fell into the water yesterday), that's not actually what I want to focus on today.

Distance learning presents all kinds of challenges, but my students make me smile every day. From the student who brings his guinea pig to the camera during "recess" every day and the one that *needed* to apologize for his brother washing his hands in the background, to the one who sends me stickers and emojis every day through Gmail chat. Their earnestness, eagerness to share, and genuine innocence are why I do this. Of course there's also the student who needs me to contact her mom before she shows up to math class (every day), the one who has to have an individual video chat to ensure he understands and gets his work turned in, and the one who has thus far refused all interaction except to type "here" in a private chat with me for the daily attendance check. But all of their parents are supportive and want to help find solutions that fit their child's specific needs. In the greater scheme of things, these issues might even pave the way for me to build relationships with the individual students and their families. I see a silver lining in every one of the "problems" that have presented in my virtual classroom so far this year.

Kids are still kids. They want to share their worlds with a trusted audience that will genuinely *see* them. I think it's harder for them to feel seen with computer screens and cameras in between them and the world, but it's certainly not impossible. During our optional Zoom lunch last week, I brought my tortoise to the webcam for my students to see, and was told she is "EPIC!" Besides the aforementioned guinea pig, I've been introduced to little siblings, a bird, and several dogs. I've been told about an awesome skateboard camp in California (that my student has not yet attended) and pulled into a discussion about the recent Sounders games (defeat on home turf against our major rivals on Sunday, 7-1 win on Thursday).

This school year is not at all normal. Teachers have been asked to learn new skills and many are finding the burden more than they can handle. I would encourage anyone in this position to reflect on the reasons they love teaching and what made them choose this occupation among the myriad of options. I had a student have a lightbulb moment last week, complete with a gasp and her eyes going wide. While working to revise a poem she had written for an assignment on personification, she learned that not all poetry rhymes. Once she was free of that internal requirement, she was able to complete the assignment quickly and, with humor:

She was a swimmer say the goggles and flippers by the lake on a hot summer day, 

And a fast skier too, say the trophies in a case in her room,

And a reader say the stack of graphic novels on a big and tall shelf,

But not a girl who eats her veggie-terribles, say the asparagus and broccoli in the garbage.

First Day of School Eve: Quarantine Edition

 

I'm tired. So tired. But today it's a good kind of tired. This morning was the "Meet and Greet" or materials pick up event for my school. The first wave of families (with last names A-E) were slated to drive through the carpool lanes and pick up supplies beginning at 8:00am. Because I don't live close to my school, my alarm went off at 5:00am. The last time I woke up that early was March 13. Tables were set up by 7:00am by the awesome facilities staff and teachers lugged bags and baskets of carefully arranged items down to the tables and set up trays with paperweights to collect forms. I had over 4,000 steps and 10 flights of stairs before the Meet and Greet started.

The actual Meet and Greet was pretty slow. But that was by design. In the era of COVID-19 large groups of people are a bad idea. Even though everyone (even cutie preschoolers) I saw was masked up and we were all outside, I did hear someone mutter, "I hope this isn't a super spreader event." It was an eerie mix of anxiety and excitement. Relief at a small sign of normalcy mixed with a healthy dose of working hard to stay as safe as possible. When my partner teacher whispered, "It's going to be a long day," in the morning, it was my first inclination to disagree with her. But when I glanced at the clock and saw that it was only 8:18am, I gasped in disbelief at how little time had elapsed.

My principal borrowed someone's phone to play music over the portable PA system and walked around with a microphone announcing student or family names as they arrived so the staff could all cheer. My grade band was in a shady spot for the duration of the pick up windows so I would periodically go stand in the sun to warm up and dance to the music. There was a good vibe. Families and teachers were upbeat and none of my new students seemed too apprehensive.

Every one of my homeroom students came by and picked up their materials. During lunch, provided by the school's amazing chef, a fourth grade parent who works for the school stopped by to let us know the fourth grade parents were wondering why we sent home so few materials in comparison to siblings in other grades. My friend who teaches fifth grade overheard and likened it to packing for a trip. She noted that she's an over packer but that my partner teacher and I are "just right" packers. I hope that's true. But it's also a sign that we are beginning the year with a social studies unit that only requires one thin paperback book rather than one requiring a set of books or a science unit that requires hands on materials for students to complete.

After lunch I raced home to conduct the first set of individual family meetings over Zoom. One family was a no-show, and two indicated they had been waiting in a Zoom waiting room for me, but only got a message telling them the host would start the meeting soon, until I sent a link inviting them to the meeting in progress. One family was a few minutes late and clearly flustered as they explained they had been trying to download the Zoom app onto three different devices as the meeting was scheduled to start. Another misunderstood and went to the school for the meeting (I was at home) but lives close enough to the school that they didn't miss much of their window. It all highlighted the need for flexibility and patience.

My biggest take away from today was that fourth graders are little. I know I began my career as a third grade teacher, but that was 20 years ago. I knew I'd have to adjust my mindset from the eighth graders I have been preparing for high school for the past three years, but seeing my new students today drove that point home for me. Although the grading load will be diminished (fourth graders will never produce the volume of writing I'm currently accustomed to reading through), the prep and individual check in needs are going to be much greater.

Tomorrow I get to have my first ever first day of school in a distance learning model. I am excited and nervous. Beyond the usual first day jitters, magnified by moving to a vastly different grade level, I'm also worried about beginning the year over video conferencing. What waiting room were those families in today if it wasn't the room I was already hosting?  Keeping kids engaged has never been hard for me, but how will I be able to "read the room" and make adjustments in real time with fourth graders I've barely met in a remote learning format? I know I'll figure it out, but it's still something I'm at least mildly anxious about. In the spring I already had relationships with my students, but I have to build them from the ground up this fall, through computer screens.

This is not the usual night before the first day of school. A grand adventure awaits. My personal identities as a joyful life long learner and someone who was built from a very young age to be a teacher are about to be put to the test... like never before.

Back to School Season

 

School starts this week for my students. Tomorrow is the supply pick up, termed Meet and Greet by my principal, where families will drive through the carpool lanes to turn in forms, pick up supplies teachers have prepared in individual bags labeled with students' names, and drop off food for a local food bank. On Wednesday students will log on and Zoom with their new teachers for the first time.

My to-do list is shrinking, but the items that are left are a bit daunting. My classroom still looked like a construction zone late last week, and I haven't been in since the floors were cleaned enough that I could finalize arranging furniture and scrub the grit of the past six months and cabinet removal process off of every surface. The previous teacher had not yet removed her posters because her new room was in even more disarray than mine, and furniture was stacked to the point she couldn't even access her walls. 

I need to get in and actually set up my room to be a fourth grade classroom, ready to receive students, because the plan is to return to the schoolhouse as soon as the county's numbers decline to the target number. But since my classroom space is not yet set up, I have created a space in my home from which to teach. My Zoom teaching day will end before noon each day, but I am scheduling 1-1 family meetings this week and 1-1 student check in meetings and holding "office hours" in the afternoons starting next week. I honestly don't know when I'm going to be able to make time to get into the school to make my new room student ready. I guess it'll be on a weekend.

I have created slide shows and posted drafts of assignments for the first "week" (three days) of online instruction to Google Classroom. I'm ready for the community and relationship building activities of the first days of school. I created a series of questions I want to ask families during the 1-1 meetings. But plans for the second week of school are far from finished and I got stuck on the curriculum night slide show. Of course, there is a curriculum map of the expected units by subject already in place, with only a few minor tweaks needed. I looked at it today, and should be able to use it to create my presentation but this year is just so different that I need to spend time in reflection before actually putting the slides together.

My brain feels very full this fall. I'm thinking about bullet points I want to include in an email to families, a list of items to be sure to bring to school tomorrow, or another set of tasks to add to my to-do list when I'm supposed to be drifting off to sleep. I'm tired. At least the back to school tired is consistent from year to year!

Summer 2020 Preparations

 

What a crazy time to be alive. It's been months of life during a pandemic and yet I almost left my house without a mask today. Given that I spent yesterday working on a Bitmoji classroom to use with virtual learning, and disassembling/rearranging furniture to create a space from which to teach in my bedroom, I don't know how I left the house without one. Thankfully the used masks on the passenger seat of the car clued me in and I ran back inside to grab a clean one before I actually left.

Two teachers at my school have been compiling a list of online resources and platforms we might want to use in our online teaching this fall. We have two extra days of PD scheduled for next week to navigate these resources in addition to the regularly scheduled three days of meetings that will be the following week. I have homework to click on several links on the shared doc and watch some videos. It's easy enough homework that will help me get more out of next week's PD, but so far I haven't been motivated to actually do it. I feel more than a little overwhelmed at all that I don't know.

My new team is amazing. They have already created an impressive amount of curricular specific docs and slides to push out to students when we begin teaching. Many of them were created prior to COVID-19 but since beginning to teach remotely last spring, they dove into the deep end and are working to simplify parent and student access as they continue to create even more docs with hyper links for students to watch videos and complete assignments. It's both awesome and anxiety provoking. I feel like I have a lot to learn about what they've created and the apps they will be directing students to use. I need to create accounts and/or figure out the teacher end of Padlet, Flipgrid, Epic, Jamboards, MobyMax, Khan Academy, and Mystery Science in addition to the platforms created by the math and ELA textbook companies whose materials the school uses.

My husband is amazing. We are in the process of clearing out an old desk with leg room and monitor viewing angle issues and replacing it with a new sit to stand desk. It's very fancy with lots of leg room and an infinitely adjustable height that will help ease neck and shoulder tension as I spend more hours in front of a computer screen than I ever believed I would each day. He even got me a huge monitor that allows me to use my laptop screen as a second monitor so I can view more windows at once. Given that I'm running two Internet browsers each with multiple tabs open on a regular basis now, having the ability to keep many windows visible at once has become invaluable. But maybe I also need to learn to close tabs I'm no longer using.

There is so much for me to learn in order to keep student engagement and learning high this fall. When I feel anxious or overwhelmed I try to take a deep breath and bring myself back to the mindset I had on the eve of my school closing in mid-March. I remember myself walking into a staff meeting after we had spent time with our grade level teachers coming up with a remote learning plan. I enthusiastically stated to the entire room of assembling teachers, "I'm learning so much!" If I can just hang onto that growth mindset, the possibilities for this fall will be limitless.

This Just In...

The decision is made. Now to plan.

I just heard that I will be starting the school year teaching remotely. The Archdiocese put out a statement today after the governor announced guidelines for the start of the school year yesterday. Upon reading the news, my body literally flooded with relief. I hadn't realized how much anxiety I was living with, both in the not knowing and in the possibility of having to navigate teaching in a physically distanced, PPE'd classroom. But as I read the announcement, I felt tension ease in my jaw, neck, shoulders, stomach. Perhaps I will be able to sleep without melatonin tonight.

Don't get me wrong. I can't wait to get back in front of a classroom full of students, dancing, jumping, standing on table tops, and doing what I love to do. I see and feel all the ways remote learning falls short of what I have been doing in classrooms for the past 20 years. But over the past month I couldn't stop thinking about all the ways in person learning was going to fall short this fall. Thinking about maintaining/policing six feet of distance, mask wearing, no sharing... and all of the CDC guidelines for re-opening was going round and round my head - always landing on the same thought: All the reasons that make in-person learning superior to remote learning are off the table until the pandemic ends. Add the risk that is inherent in bringing students and school employees together, and I was having a hard time getting excited about the start of the school year.

For a someone who knew from the first day of kindergarten that one day I would be a teacher, that was a huge problem. Every time I thought about setting up my new classroom or welcoming students on the first day, I literally pushed the thought away.

But with today's announcement, I can hunker down and begin planning for real. For really real. I can focus my attention on the online platforms I will be using, and dig into the resources that have been provided by my new team and the online conference I attended this summer. I can have conversations with my partner teacher about how to establish community and build relationships remotely. I can set up my home office thoughtfully (not quickly, like I did in the spring). I can stop watching the evening news with the lens of what might happen to my school, my classroom, myself when school opens.

I had a stranger on the Internet ask me what I need to see before I feel safe returning to the classroom. I can't answer that comprehensively, but my knee jerk response was that I'd like to live without a mask wearing mandate when in public before heading back to work. I doubt schools will actually wait that long to re-open, but a girl can dream.

Ground Rules for Interacting with Humans

In this unprecedented time of uncertainty, I feel like we should have a few ground rules for interacting with others, especially online. I'm  trying to codify them into ideas that can be presented to fourth graders for the coming school year and also ideas that I can try to live by myself. So when I hear the powers that be discussing reopening of schools and I want to shout, "Adults are required for schools to operate!" from the rooftops, I can instead fall back on some basic rules for processing ideas that make me cringe.

1. Assume Positive Intent.

In my heart of hearts, I know everyone wants life to get back to "normal" - the way it was before the novel corona virus interrupted. And that includes getting kids back in classrooms, five days per week for the entirety of a school day. Teachers want this as much as anyone. So when plans appear to overlook the myriad of adults that are required to report into a building where they will have anywhere from dozens to hundreds of close, prolonged contacts on a daily basis, I need to put on my "assume positive intent" glasses and recognize that the intent of these plans is to put normalcy back into the lives of children and families and those are good things.

On the flip side, I would prefer for people to stop saying negative things about teachers who are apprehensive about returning to work during a global pandemic. I have read that some think parents should get teachers' salaries for "homeschooling" their kids while teachers take a "vacation," that food delivery employees have been working this whole time and are doing just fine, that teachers knew what they were getting into as far as how germy children are when they went into their profession, and that grocery store workers are "braver" than teachers who are whining about returning to do their jobs. This actual list of negative comments is much longer, but the problem I have with these statements is I have trouble finding the positive intent in them. They make me want to point by point knock down the ideas they profess and send me into a spiral of negative thinking. The downward spiral of my own thinking is why I am choosing not to spend time actually defending myself as a teacher against these ideas. Instead, I am asking that those who have shared these ideas really try to think from the perspective of classroom teachers and other school employees and notice that there are many, many valid reasons for apprehension about what will happen when kids and adults go back into schoolhouses.

2. Listen for the Meaning in the Message.

Another way to say this is to listen for the positive intent. Sift through the statements and try to figure out what the other person means to say, not what you hear with your first knee-jerk reaction. I said I have a hard time finding the positive intent in the examples of negative messages I have come across recently. But if I take the time to reflect past my initial negative reactions, I can see that people who make and share these statements do in fact place a high value on getting kids back into classrooms. Their motivation might be different than mine, but it is definitely a positive that so many people are so motivated to get schools up and running again, and see school as an essential part of family life. As an educator, it's heartening that closed schools are a cause for massive concern among Americans.

If you just can't find the positive intent there are two actions you should attempt before walking away in disgust, or worse, throwing your knee-jerk negativity back at the other person. The first is to take the time to reflect on the intent of their message beyond your initial, upset reaction. It's not fun because it requires that you think about an upsetting idea for longer than an instant, and because it does mean admitting your initial reaction was not entirely correct. But self-reflection and an ability to admit when you are (gasp) wrong, are signs of maturity and intellect. The other step you can take is to ask questions for clarification. This can be tricky because tone of voice and word choice can make or break the outcome of discourse on an inflammatory, divisive topic. When the discourse is online it's even harder because tone can easily be misinterpreted. But if you truly are doing your best to assume positive intent, it is worth trying to dig a little deeper into upsetting ideas until you find the positive intent within the message.

3. Make an Informed Decision.

We all have our own opinions on every important issue of the day. But where did these opinions spring from? Are they the opinions of our parents or community? Do your own research on the issues and whenever possible get some primary source information. Before you opine on the Confederate flag, read the secession documents from the states that flew it during the Civil War. Before you choose an option for your kids returning to school look at data from your area and listen to doctors and educators in your area, preferably ones you already know and trust.

Making and informed decision is not a quick process. It requires you to do some leg work of your own, rather than clicking on links provided by others who are trying to persuade you to their line of thinking. You should look at ideas from sources across political, racial, and economic spectrums with an open mind, being willing to learn and change your own opinion should you run into new information from a reliable source.

When done correctly, researching not only allows you to come to your own conclusions, it has the added benefit of showing you that whatever the issue is, there are many more than two sides. There are lots of possible positions to take on any issue that stirs up emotions, and the decision you come to for yourself is unlikely to be the "right fit" for others. Parents of toddlers and preschoolers have a different set of concerns than those of elementary kids, and parents of high schoolers have yet another set of factors to consider. My kids are teenagers, one has just graduated from high school and the other will be entering into his sophomore year. I can trust them to take care of their own needs with just a few check ins throughout the day. The child care aspect of school is not an issue for me, but it is for my neighbors who have three kids under the age of seven. My decisions about the coming school year will have to fit the parameters of my life, and I should not try to impose my choices on someone who has an entirely different set of circumstances to consider.

4. Take Time for Self-Care.

When the world is spinning in directions not of your choosing and so many things are out of your control, take time to control the things you can. Figure out what calms you down and make time to do it. For one of my kids we figured out years ago that if we saw a behavior escalation coming on, it was time to suggest a long, hot shower. We had to let go of our worries about water consumption because it really did the trick of giving our child time to think and reflect and come back into conversation with a calmer demeanor. My other kid needs to walk away and read. After diving into a fictional world for an hour or so, he is ready to think a little more calmly about the real world. I need to write. I journal, blog, write letters, stories or poems, most of which are never viewed by the public.  But I always have one or two little notebooks in my purse at the ready. Everyone in your family will likely have a different calming activity. Self care options are as varied as people. What calms one person's "triggers" might serve to spin someone else up.

From my time as a foster parent I know that it's important to identify and mitigate triggers to negative behaviors or thinking. But in order to do effective mitigation, you have to know what calms you down. Figure out your own personal method, but recognize that there are also universal needs to consider. When every option irritates me and I can't seem to think beyond that irritation, I probably need to eat or sleep. I have been known to go to bed mad at someone or something, and wake up with an entirely new outlook on the situation. My own child is generally obnoxious if she doesn't get a hit of protein throughout the day. Adequate sleep and proper nutrition are the cornerstones for everyone's self care.  Once basic needs are adequately addressed, figure out a simple activity or two that calms you and do everything you can to build them into your daily routine. Making a habit out of activities that fill your soul means that you might be able to fall back on it without someone suggesting it to you. And if a loved one does suggest it, you will be less likely to bite their head off for expressing care and concern.

Good luck with the hard decisions coming your way this fall. Most of us are picking among options that all seem like bad choices. Finding the least bad option in the bunch is stressful and anxiety provoking, but it doesn't have to cost you friends or create tension within your family.

Thoughts About the Coming School Year

I can't pretend to know what this fall will bring. I do know that my (private) school is planning to start in person and on time unless they are told they can't. It's why I was hired - to ensure class sizes will be reduced to the point that six feet of distance is possible between students when they are seated in their desks. I want to work this fall. I want to be in a classroom with students, teaching. I know my own child learned very little in the distance learning that occurred in the spring. I know my own students learned less starting in March, and those that were not self-motivated learned a lot less. 

My students were equipped with the devices and bandwidth needed for distance learning. I did my best to create engaging lessons, spending hours vetting video clips and creating web quests that met minimum learning targets. I tweaked my end of the year activities and felt like I did a decent job of getting my eighth graders ready for high school. I was told by parents that their kids said things like, "It's just like being at real school," and that their kids were engaged by the content I was providing. But I also knew that we didn't get to the final project I had planned for ELA and I didn't dive deeply into the final history unit (The Civil War and Reconstruction) or have time to address the lessons for today, especially in light of the Black Lives Matter protests that erupted at the end of the year.

I'm switching schools, not because I chose to, and moving to a new grade level. I'm really excited about the upcoming year for lots of reasons. I know and love the community and they know and love me back. (As evidenced by how I was received when I went in last week.) If we need to start remotely, I won't feel like an outsider among the staff. I won't know my students, but that would be mostly true even if I wasn't switching schools. I am grateful to have a job for fall, and ecstatic that it's in a place I know and feel welcomed.

My plan book came in the mail today.

But, we won't be sending our high schooler to school in person this fall. His school district has not announced their plans yet, but we already know that a daily (or multiple times per week) bus ride and in person instruction is not something we will sign him up for. Every fall of his entire schooling life he has ended up sick, with a fever among his symptoms for long enough that he has missed up to two weeks of school. We can't, in good conscience, send him out into the classroom, knowing that he will end up needing a COVID-19 test within weeks of returning to school.

And that leaves me in a strange place. The community college my oldest will be attending announced several weeks (months? who can remember timelines during a pandemic?) ago that they will be starting online only for the fall term. My husband was working on a project that would shift many employees, including himself, to working from home more often than not before the pandemic struck. He's now allowed back in his office every other week, but no one is required back in before December, and the long range plan is for his team to be working from home almost exclusively going forward.

When the school year rolls around again, I will be the only person in my household required to leave the house and report into a specific location. It makes me think of the meme of the politician saying that if stores can be open schools need to be open, and the other pane saying, "I don't always go to (insert store), but when I do it's not five days in a row for seven hours at a time." Yeah, um, try eight or nine hours on any given work day, historically speaking. And I know teachers who go in on weekends regularly and/or stay in the building for more hours than I do on a regular basis. 

Almost every (Every?) industry that can hold meetings online is doing so. Kids have been more effectively quarantined than adults since the middle of March when their activities were all cancelled. Opening schools based on data collected while activities for kids were cancelled seems extremely risky. Not even considering any personal risk I might be taking, how can we be considering the risk to children in our schools? I was a long term sub three years ago for one of the kids who got the mysterious inflammatory illness linked to COVID-19. It hit me pretty hard when I saw his face on the local news. How much harder would it hit to have a student die from this pandemic?