In July I received an email from my school district. I opened the email at 9 o’clock at night. In that lengthy email I saw two words: in-person. Now, my jaw actually fell open. Not only did the realization that I will be surrounding myself with 32 students everyday during a pandemic start to set in, but also the realization that my work email should be read during work hours only. That night, there wasn’t much sleeping happening. I tossed, I turned. I got angry, confused. I questioned how it was possible to safely re-open a school. I stressed over the fact that I had to miss the first three pre-service days so I could be at my brother’s wedding. I stressed that I was going to a wedding in another state. I tossed, I turned.
It all seemed so unreal.
Flashback to March and excitement rushed through me about a week extension added to Spring Break. Spring Break is burn out time teachers and students alike. I was happy to be at home, painting, crafting, spending time with my pup. The extra time doing me things during the school year was welcomed with open arms. This time allowed for several house projects to be completed, but it also allowed for a more-than-normal amount of screen time for me. There are negatives and positives to that last part. For example, I discovered a paint by number game on my phone that I’ve played every day since. Whether that’s a positive or a negative, you decide, but this screen time also helped me learn, unlearn, question, relearn, and learn some more about what was happening in our world. Shit, did you know there was like, a LOT going on? COVID-19 hit the US full force throwing educators (and everyone else ever) for a total loop. Online learning? With 3-year-olds? I’m not going to lie, it was a little like when you see the drunk girl helping the even more drunk girl in the bar bathroom. No one really knows what’s going on but you’re both sort of figuring it out together and at the end of the day you feel somewhat successful but also utterly confused in the whole situation. As time in this virtual learning world moved forward, I grew fond of the flexibility, but also anxious about the lack of routine. I loved connecting with some families and students through video chats, but nothing can replace that face-to-face interaction. Overall, I didn’t mind online learning, but I was viewing it as temporary. This whole pandemic would just…pass. Right?
Fast forward to July and people are still dying, nothing seems to be under control, restaurants are restricted, National Parks were closed, anyone who could work from home was doing it, other people were losing their jobs and houses, Black Lives Matter protests continued all across the world, the US has a liar for a leader, some people have stayed inside for months, you have to wear masks at the grocery store, and I was receiving an email telling me to go throw myself into a classroom. Or, at least that’s how I interpreted it at 9pm while lying in bed attempting to sleep.
Fast forward to September and I will say, my school has been pretty great with protecting against COVID. There’s portable hand washing stations, arrows on the hallway floor to eliminate crowding (I’ve also found it is way easier to teach children to walk in a line…when they have a line [or arrows] to walk on), and an action plan for if there is a positive case in the building. I have not yet been scared for my physical health. We wear masks, we wash our hands, we eat outside or alone in our rooms. We are being cautious. I have, however, been wondering about everyone’s mental health. In a conversation with my Assistant Principal this week, we both expressed we were “Spring-Break-tired” and it is only September. It’s hard to explain the reasoning other than saying there is just So. Much. More…Stuff. There’s more stuff to plan, more stuff to wash, more stuff to put away, more stuff to learn, more stuff to worry about, more stuff to consider, more stuff to tell parents, more possible online learning tools just in case, more…stuff. There’s meetings. There’s information overloads. There’s a brand new curriculum. There’s new procedures. There’s trying to figure out how to tell a child to keep their distance when all you want to do is squeeze them and tell them you’re so happy to see them. It’s taking a child’s temperature at the door instead of giving them a hug or high five. It’s wanting children to be safe, but also wanting them to successfully cooperate with their peers. Educators do it all for the children. But now we have to do it all for the children as well as follow new strict health department guidelines, new district procedures, and without as much contact with our coworkers- our support system has been converted to virtual meetings. Being an educator is freaking hard. Laughing at lunch with coworkers takes the edge off. Meeting as a group to discuss plans keeps me organized and excited about new ideas.
I’ve come to realize I am a social being. Years ago I would have told you I prefer my own company to anyone else’s. That statement isn’t necessarily wrong, but it doesn’t encompass my deep need for human relations. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone else pull you out of your thoughts for a bit. It’s nice to be able to connect with people who are in the same metaphorical teacher boat with you. It’s nice to hear that other people, even your Assistant Principal, are exhausted, too. Although we have stayed safe and healthy physically, our mental health has taken a hit.
In July, I was confused and angry at the in-person decision. Now, in September, I’m completely backing it. The impact educators have when they are in front of students is non-replaceable. The exhaustion is temporarily forgotten when a student makes you laugh or demonstrates a new learned skill. The restrictions of COVID are temporarily un-important when you build relationships within your classroom. By no means am I discrediting those teaching online or in hybrid models. Believe me, navigating an online learning model full time would have me questioning my career. I can tweak my classroom to fit COVID guidelines. I can’t just automatically learn an online learning resource and seamlessly teach my students and their parents how to access it to it’s full potential. Both options take more work than normal. Both options add stress to our daily routine. With all these added…things…I’m at least grateful I get to experience my students in person. That’s why myself, and other educators, do what we do.
If you know an educator, give them a little bit of extra love and grace. We’re navigating a new kind of classroom. And if you are an educator, this is me seeing you, acknowledging you, praising your dedication, and encouraging you to just take that Sunday afternoon nap. You deserve it!
Average Thoughts 