So Sad Over School Closures

“While the new school year will begin on August 18^thas scheduled, it will not begin with students at school facilities. The health and safety of all in the school community is not something we can compromise.”

-- LAUSD Superintendent Austin Beutner

 

“I’m so sad, sad.

I’m so sad, sad.”

-- Maroon 5

 

In a normal year, I start thinking about the start of school roughly 10 days before the first day of instruction. Supplies are bought and the classroom gets set up after a summer of cleaning and hibernation. I make copies and decide what first-week projects and assignments to keep or toss. 

 

But 2020 isn’t a normal year. I haven’t stopped thinking about the start of school since last year wrapped up in June. Yesterday, my school district announced that it is not opening for in-person instruction when school resumes on August 18. When I read the news, I was heartbroken. 

 

As a teacher, I try to have all the answers (at least at a third-grade level). When it comes to COVID-19 and how to best do school, the safest possible way, I’m at a loss. I don’t have any answers.

 

Time will tell if LAUSD made the right decision, but I’m sure it was the safest decision and I’m okay with that. But I’m still sad. While I’m deeply thankful to have a job, I’m sad that the virus has affected my occupation so dramatically. I’m sad for the students who can’t be in school, socializing, playing, seeing their friends, and learning together. I’m sad for the parents trying to juggle work, family, technology, and common core math.

 

Teaching is hard, but it’s what we do. Distance learning is hard x 1,000. It’s batting right-handed (I’m a southpaw). It’s driving on the left side of the road. It’s cooking in someone else’s kitchen.

 

Honestly, I was hoping for some sort of hybrid. At a bare minimum, I was wishing for a scenario where I could meet in person with 4-5 students for maybe a couple of hours each day. Take my roster of students and make a Monday group, a Tuesday group, etc. Give us from 9:00-11:00. Make us wear masks. I’ll keep the doors open. We’ll sit 12 feet apart. We won’t do recess or share pencils. We’ll use the restroom one at a time. We’ll wash our hands. The rest of the day could be distance learning. 

 

But this won’t be happening. So I’m sad.

 

When we shut down the schools in March, I already had seven months’ worth of knowledge about my students under my belt. This helped dramatically as we transitioned to distance learning. I knew instantly when someone’s work was below their capabilities and when someone had a little too much help from mom or dad. But I can’t begin to comprehend how I am going to open the school year virtually. It seems daunting and overwhelming.

 

I feel like in order to distance teach properly, I need SOME in-class time with the students, even a miniscule amount. I need to discover their strengths and struggles. I need to develop a rapport with them. I need them to get to know me. I need to learn their personalities, their likes and dislikes, their behaviors. How quickly or slowly do they work? Can they work independently? How do they respond when things are hard? I need to see their writing and listen to their reading. I need to assess them. I need to correct their handwriting and remind them a million times to use punctuation and capital letters. We need to bond. This seems impossible over Zoom. 

 

So I’m sad.

 

Perhaps, my wished-for hybrid model isn’t the safest plan. I know we need to err on the side of protection. We have to account for an older teacher, or one with health issues, or somebody with a compromised immune system. Maybe, now at 52 years old, I’m one of the “older” teachers and if infected I could be wrecked. I understand that it just takes one symptomatic 8-year-old to sneeze on me. 

 

I’m so sad.

 

So now my wishes change. After going through the spring’s session of virtual instruction, here’s what I wish for to start the semester remotely:

 

1.     I want to teach from my classroom and not from my kitchen table. As long as we don’t have another mandatory lockdown, this can happen. I want my full array of supplies and curriculum. I want to sit in front of my giant wipe board as I Zoom my lessons.

 

2.     I want a mechanism in place where parents can drop off assignments and assessments from the week before and pick up a packet of work for the coming week. This will require teachers’ aides making copies and preparing packets. An all-digital classroom may work for middle school and beyond, but in third grade I need to see work on paper. And I want the creators of the Chik-Fil-A drive through to organize this. 

 

3.     I want all of the students to participate. In the spring, too many students went AWOL. (As I’m sure some teachers did too). Honestly, this will be unlikely. 

 

4.     I need the governor to cancel next spring’s standardized testing. Unless we’re fully back in the classroom by the end of September, students shouldn’t be tested on how they did during distance learning. Plus, by late fall we’re normally beginning to learn how to navigate the online testing system, as well as do practice assessments. I can’t visualize this happening remotely.

 

5.     I need the kids to be able to access my classroom library. This could prove tricky. I could select their books to send home with their drive-through packets. This will help diversify their reading pallets. No more reading every Diary of a Wimpy Kid book 22 times. 

 

I’m glad the decision to not reopen was made earlier than later. The remaining five weeks of summer gives me some time to get ready. 

 

But I still have a lot of questions.

 

And I definitely don’t have the answers.

 

I know this will pass. I’m choosing to believe that something good will come from this. I will do my best to support, teach, and connect with my new students virtually. But I’m still sad.

 

So sad.