Going the Distance with Distant Learning

It was like going back in time, albeit only two months ago. With permission, I went back to my classroom to grab some supplies for distance learning. The cupboards displayed orange-bearded leprechauns and my door was decorated with green lucky shamrocks. It had been two months since our “two-week” quarantine started and the room looked as if I had retreated minutes before the arrival of an enemy army.

In a way, that’s what my students and I did. Only the invader was a microscopic virus.

As an elementary teacher, the school year usually ends with fond goodbyes and happy well wishes for an enjoyable summer. Teachers and students joyfully count down to the final minute of the last day. The end of the year is a celebration of accomplishments and academic growth. Sometimes there are years when the end can’t come soon enough. The days slog by like a march to the guillotine. However, both scenarios have one thing in common: closure. 

But not this year.

So many students at all levels of education have missed out on memories and milestones. Proms, graduations, and the spring sport seasons to name a few. At the elementary level, our 5^th graders won’t get a traditional culmination and the kindergartners will miss their annual Broadway-esque performance and party. Tragically, there has been tremendous loss of life and the effects on our economy and workforce are staggering. But COVID-19 has also taken away so much when it comes to education. 

As a teacher I’m feeling the loss of a traditional ending to the school year. How much differently would that last Friday have looked had I known we wouldn’t be returning? Would we have played more or celebrated our “two-thirds” year of school? As of now, we have three weeks of remote learning left in the year. Somehow saying, “have a good summer” over Zoom isn’t going to cut it. 

Back in March, educators across the country were thrust into the world of distance teaching. Principals and administrators had to get computer devices to families that lacked technology. District’s bigwigs had to figure out how to feed children who depend on eating at school. Initially, when faced with only a two-week holding pattern, I tried to keep some semblance of normalcy. I assigned regular work in all subjects, knowing that state testing was looming once we returned. It was hard to know how much to assign. Was it enough for the sharp kids? Was it too much for those who struggle? How would my students’ parents do while trying to work from home and take care of other children who also had their own remote-learning assignments? I told everyone to do his or her best, not to stress out, and we’ll play catch up after we return. Heck, two-weeks is shorter that our winter break.

Then when the quarantine was extended indefinitely and state testing was nixed, I had to shift gears altogether. Suddenly it wasn’t about staying sharp for testing. The plane was landing and my students have to continue to get ready for 4^th grade. This wasn’t a hiatus; this was a new normal of trying to teach what I hadn’t yet covered and what I needed to reinforce … from home. 

The kitchen table became my desk and my learning curve began. While still juggling student workload issues and parental limitations I, and thousands of other teachers, had to figure out numerous educational online platforms. I had to learn how to use online meeting websites and a virtual classroom. Webinars became lunch companions. I’ve never been a big YouTuber, except for watching Holderness Family videos, but now YouTube is my best friend.

In a way, distance teaching reminded me of my first year as an educator when the position was mentally all-consuming. Every waking moment was spent thinking about how to do this job. Twenty years later, I found myself back in a similar situation. To a somewhat lesser degree, once again, I was consumed with thinking, worrying, and wondering about how to do my job.

On the other hand, I’ve enjoyed parts of the process. I’ve always wanted to learn things like Google Classroom. But now I was forced to do so. A school year is as busy and as frantic as the Indy 500. Sometimes one more piece of paperwork can feel like a high-speed blowout. Vacations and days off are just pit stops. You can refuel and change the tires, but not overhaul the engine. Covid-19 necessitated me to redo the transmission, so to speak. It’s exciting to have not just a newfound understanding of technology, but also the experience and a plan on how to use it in the future.

I’ve also been seriously impressed with student’s and parent’s abilities to cope and adapt. I didn’t learn to type until high school. Nowadays, eight and nine year olds are crafting multi-paragraph essays on Chrome books, creating online slideshows, and learning through video conferences. 

The month of May is usually my favorite time at school. The instant-pot-like pressure of testing has been released and students get to work on Open House projects to showcase what they’ve learned. In June we end the year with a whole-grade-level Field Day of competitive events and a pizza party. Right now, I’m not sure how to make the end of the year special and memorable. I want to celebrate what my 24 kiddos have achieved and accomplished. I want to honor their perseverance and adaptability. I don’t know if the students feel this way, but I need closure.

I’ve got a few days to come up with a plan. Maybe I’ll start by asking the students what they want. Or I could do a search on YouTube. But only after watching one more Holderness video. 

Emailing Heaven ... Mom, Send Help Quick!

To: Helen D. Gervase

From: Your favorite son

CC/BC:

Subject: Send Help Quick

Hey Ma,

Happy 16^th Mother’s Day in heaven. I sure do miss you. I know I haven’t emailed in a while, but it’s high time I did so. Things are crazy down here. We’ve got a global pandemic going on. And, I need your help.  

Before I fill you in, let me update you on the fam. Dad is still the king of Carmel (and its weekly newspaper). He lives on a forested hilltop, surrounded by deer, gardens of flowers, and the sweet companionship of a lovely lady who keeps him in check. She also prevents him from going out in shorts and knee-high dress socks. So we’re very thankful for her.

Christy is still in Monterey. She’s a superhero OR nurse and a hall-of-fame mom. She’s a quiet, humble expert in just about everything, from antiques to home remodeling. She’s like a sister-Siri. I can call her and ask her anything and she’ll have a helpful answer for me. (I can explain Siri later if you need me to). 

Jenny and her family moved out to Murrieta a few years ago. I miss that she’s not around the corner. She too is rocking her nurse’s cape and has taken her spot alongside Christy in the motherhood hall of fame. She’s also working her way up the multi-level marketing pyramid. She does it with grace, laughter, and a contagious amount of positivity. I can’t wait to see her at the top very soon. She’s a natural and must have been paying close attention whenever you tried the latest home-based sales program.

Ok, so like I said, it’s a tad wild down here. A weird virus came out of China and has quickly made its way to every corner of the globe. Basically, the whole planet has shut down. Over a million Americans have been infected and nearly 80,000 have died. The U.S. economy is below rock bottom and unemployment is sky high. We’ve been quarantined at home for nearly two months. Just about everything is closed. Schools, restaurants, and churches are empty. All the pro sports leagues are on sabbatical. Mom, I need baseball big time.

It’s a very unsettling and confusing time and is definitely unlike anything that I’ve ever seen. It’s now being called a “hinge” moment in history, like the Great Depression or 9/11. Not since 1918 has the world experienced a pandemic of this magnitude. Parts of the country are starting to re-open. But some people think it’s too early to do so, while others believe we shouldn’t have closed down as strictly as we did. It’s just so hard to know what’s going to happen. By some reports, it could be 18 to 24 months before we return to normal. Or a second wave of outbreaks might be around the corner. I’m not sure our country can handle either one.

You see, over the last few years the United States has grown increasingly divided. We are polarized politically and it’s driving people away from one another, within families, within churches, and across the country. People are restless and tired of sheltering in place. Tensions are high, the news media isn’t trustworthy, political correctness is out of control, and politicians are fallible (at their best). Protesting has become the new national pastime. Not that speaking out against injustice is a bad thing. I’m all for the first amendment, but it just seems to be getting out of control and often misguided. Protesting racial prejudice is good. Protesting beach closures seems selfish. And this Coronavirus is fueling the fire. I’m afraid something devastatingly violent is going to happen.

I was hoping and praying that a silver lining to this pandemic would be a unifying and a healing of our nation. That we’d become more unified as a people or that maybe God would bring about some kind of spiritual revival. That more people would do less looking out for themselves and do more looking up to heaven for help. Of course there’s still time, as I said, we might have 18 more months for God to ignite change.

So this is where you come in. Can you pull some strings, maybe get some one-on-one time with Yahweh, and possibly ask him to help us out down here? We really need this pandemic to peter out so everybody can go back to work. We’re desperate for some good news to quell the pressure that seems to be gripping the nation. Oh and of course, some extra helpings of the Holy Spirit would go a long way in turning more hearts toward heaven.

I know this is a big ask, but I’m not requesting this for myself. Personally, I’m doing really well. I’m diligently trying to keep the current batch of third graders engaged and active while teaching from home. And I’m privileged to quarantine with the most wonderful wife and mom. She loves me so well and I thoroughly adore spending our sheltered time together. Like Christy and Jenny, she too is a gold-medal winning mom. She’s is the epitome of patience with her kids. She’s full of wisdom, strength, and gentleness. She’s rarely frustrated and always unflappable. It’s almost as if someone up there knew exactly what I needed.

You always knew exactly what I needed when I was a kid, so I’m guessing you may have had something to do with bringing Beautiful Karla into my life. 

I’m going to keep praying for the aforementioned requests. I’m not sure how it works where you are, but please do whatever it takes to talk to Abba Father. Set an appointment, grab coffee, invite him over, or take a walk together. 

The world, our country, and our leaders need a lot of help.

And He’s the only one who knows exactly what we need. 

I Miss Baseball, Medically Speaking

The coronavirus-induced 41-state lockdown has us all longing for activities from our once normal life. I miss my friends and seeing family members. My toes and hairline miss both my pedicurist and my barber respectively. But what I really miss is baseball. Like clockwork, the end of March Madness brings April Fondness for the resumption of my first true love. Covid-19 has successfully stolen baseball from me like the Grinch who tried to steal Christmas. I always welcome Opening Day by marinating in my Baseball Dictionary. Each season brings a new collection of thematic baseball words and phrases. I’ve written about foods and animals, as well as geographical, spiritual, political, and romantic terms. And this season, with baseball in quarantine, what could be more appropriate than a compilation of medical and global pandemic baseball terms. Here goes:

A is for Aspirin:

The ball thrown by a fastball pitcher, in which it appears smaller than it is. Along with Advil, what not to take if you have coronavirus-like symptoms. Tylenol is recommended.

B is for Bleacheritis:

The name of a mock disease for the deteriorated physical conditioning of those who have given up active participation in athletics and become spectators. Every time I think I’ve kicked my case of bleacheritis I end up pulling a hip-flexor muscle playing slow-pitch softball.

C is for Chinese Blow:

A lucky hit; a fluke hit. Or the unfortunate impact of the coronavirus on the world.

D is for Doctoring:

Gaining an edge illegally by making the ball move erratically after it has been pitched. Also what the superhero physicians and nurses are doing to combat the coronavirus in the hospitals and medical centers day in and day out.

E is for Ear Syphilis:

A condition in which an umpire is overly sensitive to comments from players and fans and allows his performance to be affected. Or the condition affecting the people who refuse to listen to the shelter at home and social distancing guidelines. 

F is for Filthy: 

Said of a pitch that features a combination of speed, movement, and location that makes it unhittable. The speed in which Covid-19 has moved to nearly every location in the world makes it a truly filthy virus.

G is for Glove and a Prayer:

The assets of an ineffective pitcher. Also the only remaining tools of medical workers during the hospital-mask shortage.

H is for Hospital Throw:

A throw by an infielder to another that leaves the latter exposed to injury by a sliding or charging base runner. Also, the method used by doctors and nurses to share their under-supplied face masks.

I is for In the Neighborhood:

Said of a fielder who is close enough to touch a base. Or the only place Beautiful Karla and I can walk while the beaches and hiking trails are currently closed. 

J is for June Bug:

A rookie who is sent back down to the minor leagues by early summer. Or what we might be faced with if the virus isn’t eradicated by the end of May.

K is for Kill the Rally:

To end a scoring opportunity, such as by making the third out with the bases loaded. Or what the virus has done to President Trump’s and Joe Biden’s campaign gatherings. 

L is for Loaf Season:

A sarcastic term for the off-season. People around the country are using this time to learn new hobbies or skills. I’ve taken up yoga and in the truest sense of the term, bread baking.

M is for Mask Work:

The catcher’s duties. And what is now everyone’s practice when leaving home for groceries or errands.

N is for “No Catch”:

The plate umpire’s call when the pitch is in the dirt on strike three. Or what all who don’t acquire the virus will proclaim at the end of this predicament.

O is Official Distance:

Any field measurement stipulated by the official rules of the game; e.g., the distance between the bases is 90 feet. Six feet is the only official distance we care about right now. 

P is for Poisoned Bat:

The bat held by a hard hitter. Also what someone in China ate that started this whole mess.

R is for Ryanitis:

A mock disease that mysteriously struck hitters on the day they were scheduled to face all-time strikeout leader Nolan Ryan. Synonymous with Mr. Gervaseitis which is what my students have when they “forget” to open their google classroom while distance learning.

 

Nolan Ryan

Steve Sax Disease:

The sudden inability for a fielder to make routine throws. Named for the LA Dodgers’ second baseman who became plagued by wild throws. Or what doctors and nurses experience when their hospital throws are off target.

Steve Sax

T is for Two-Way Player:

A player who is proficient on both offense and defense; i.e. the Angels Shohei Ohtani. See also moms and dads trying to work from home and lead their kids through their schoolwork. 

Shohei Ohtani

U is for Untouchable:

Said of a player who would not be considered for a trade to another team. Also the feelings of someone with ear syphilis regarding their chances of catching the coronavirus.

V is for Velocity:

The speed of a pitch; that which determines a good fastball. The coronavirus’ velocity to circle the globe is equal to Nolan Ryan’s best fastball. 

W is for Wait ‘Til Next Year:

The plaintive mantra of fans whose team has once again fallen short of expectations. Also what many parents are telling their children regarding summer travel and vacations. 

Y is for Yard Work:

A home run. Also, along with Honors Chores and AP Cooking, what a lot of kids are studying during the quarantine.

Z is for Zip:

To shut out, i.e. Tigers Zip Yankees in 10 Innings, 1-0. Or to move quickly: The pitcher made his fastball zip across the plate. Also what the government is recommending us to do away from home. See also Nada, Zero, and Zilch.

Stay safe and stay healthy my friends.