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.