This Sucks!

The Prime Minister is right. This sucks!

Covid has really put a damper on everything this year. It has made so many things crummy and having a positive outlook is hard right now. This was supposed to be the most amazing school year with my class. I have been with them for three years and they are graduating to high school this year. We were supposed to be going on epic field trips, having graduation parties and celebrating how much they have learned over the past three years. Understandably, many of the families that I serve have decided to keep their children at home and have them engage in online learning. I see them twice a day on the computer and I am trying to make it as meaningful as I can, but it is not the same. I miss them.

This was also supposed to be the year that all sorts of other amazing things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to be an assistant soccer coach at school for the first time, learn new teaching strategies at conferences and work to bring an amazing workshop to teachers about anti-indigeneity.

My students were supposed to learn new sports in gym, enjoy weekly trips to the grocery store and utilize the skills they worked SO hard to gain over the past two years.

The rest of the school was supposed to enjoy my students outgoing and friendly presence.

It sucks!

Some days I just want to stand in the middle of the school and scream THIS SUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKSSSSSS so that the whole neighborhood can hear.

Other days I just try to look at everything with a sense of gratitude.

If today is the day where you want to yell, stop reading now.

Read on to the next part of my blog, if you need a shot of positivity.

Even though things suck…

I am thankful for my job. The unemployment rate in Canada right now is at record high. So many people are worried about the financial security of their family and they go to bed every night incredibly worried about their future. I have had so many difficult conversations with my student’s families about the stress they are under. It reminds me daily that even though my job is not the same, I am very thankful to have it.

I am thankful that my job has benefits that provides counselling Like many, the return to work has provided some anxieties. Having access to a professional to speak with about some of these unsettling feelings has been profoundly impactful and helpful.

I am thankful for my health This may seem obvious, but I am very thankful for my health right now. `

I am thankful for technology that allows me to talk to my family I miss my family like many of us. However,  I think about the last pandemic in 1919 and I bet they wish they had Zoom and Smart phones to use.

I am thankful for the incredibly beautiful fall we had Wow! The fall colours were so bold and bright this year.

Whether you are feeling a sense of gratitude or frustration today, know that it is okay.

This pandemic does suck!

Toxic Positivity in a Brave New World

I am a huge science fiction fan and was excited to start the new TV series “Brave New World”.  I read the book for my “The Science in Science Fiction Literature” course (I know, cool course right?) in University and I was looking forward to the TV series. In the futuristic “Brave New World”, society has developed mood altering drugs that everyone is required to take to maintain their “levels” so that they can have calm, happy dispositions all of the time.  The result is that the characters don’t really have to “feel” anything deeply.  If there is discomfort or grief they can take a “soma” from their Pez dispenser-type tool and go on with life in peace and harmony.  The struggle for the characters is that once they discover the power of feeling true human emotion they want to experience it, thus going against the social norm.

The “Brave New World” narrative parallels the dangers of toxic positivity.  Psychologygroup.com defines toxic positivity as: “the excessive and ineffective overgeneralization of a happy, optimistic state across all situations. The process of toxic positivity results in the denial, minimization, and invalidation of the authentic human emotional experience.”  Think of it like too much of a good thing can be bad for you.  Phrases like, “It could be worse,” or “Focus on the positive,” “Don’t worry, be happy,” may seem innocuous, but in fact reject, repress or deny negative emotions. The message is that it is not OK to feel anything except positive and happy.

So what does this have to do with education?  First of all, teachers excel at wearing stress and being busy as a badge of honour.  I’m guilty of doing it. I’ve heard myself say that I worked all weekend preparing for the upcoming week. We have established this as a norm in educational culture.  Human beings work best when they give themselves time to rejuvenate.  Teacher burn out is a real thing. I honestly think if I walked into a staff room and announced, “I totally relaxed all weekend and just read my novel.” I would face sneers and hear “Must be nice,” muttered around me. Not because teachers are bad people, but because as a culture we don’t value taking care of ourselves as much as we value productivity. Being positive about being overworked and stressed out is toxic positivity, and it is rampant in education.

The problem isn’t with genuinely upbeat and effusive people. Those people are rare.  Treasure them. The problem lies in people denying, repressing, minimizing or invalidating negative emotions.  Keeping calm and carrying on can be counterproductive and harmful to mental health.  While there are well intentioned people providing “just do it” kind of strategies and messages about being positive; those intentions may end up making people feel bad about feeling bad, adding guilt and shame to the mix of emotions.

So, what can we do?  We can try to shift the narrative to value and validate the real emotions that people are feeling.  We can try to give ourselves permission to say, “You know what, I’m not ok right now. I’m grieving the way in which I used to work and live.  I’m hoping that it will soon change.” It is OK to be sad and yet still feel positive about the future.  You can feel both things.

When someone shares their sadness, anger, grief or frustration with you, try to sincerely validate those emotions.  True empathy is saying, “I’m here to embrace the suck with you,” not minimizing the emotions of others.  You can be curious and ask questions, “That must be frustrating, tell me more about that, I’m here to listen.”  Then, do that.  Just listen.

I try to give myself grace and forgiveness.  I have not learned to knit, bake bread or trained to run a marathon during the pandemic. Some days, just putting two feet on the carpet beside my bed is a big win.  I have to remind myself daily that is OK not to be the “Quarantine Queen.” It is OK not to be productive beyond my wildest imagination during a global pandemic. I try to avoid offering platitudes about positivity. I try to validate the feelings of the people around me. I will try to give up “soma” in my Brave New Covid-19 World, throw out the fake positivity, and feel all of the range of emotions – good, bad and ugly.

 

 

Write On!

I love to write, and I hope that my enthusiasm for the writing process inspires and encourages my Grade 2 students to write on!

VIP:

At the beginning of the year, we are working together to create a brave and inclusive community where everyone is recognized as a “very important person”.  The VIP program celebrates one student each day.  Everybody has a story, and we learn about the VIP by listening and asking questions.  Together, we talk about what good writers do as we write several sentences about the VIP.  We notice the letters in their name and practice printing them correctly.  Then, everyone draws a picture and writes about the VIP.  These pages are collected and sent home as a book for the VIP to share with their family.

On the first day of school, I was the VIP to model the process.  Yes, I was wearing a cape at the time, to demonstrate our superhero arms-distance protocol, and to reinforce that we all have superpowers.

The Peace Book:

Every year on September 21, we recognize the International Day of Peace as part of Peace Week.  Peace Week is an excellent opportunity to introduce and/or review the Zones of Regulation and practice mindfulness strategies.  We share ideas about when we feel peaceful, and brainstorm agreements for how we might resolve conflicts and solve problems in our community.  We sing songs and read stories about peace and justice.  After reading “The Peace Book,” by Todd Parr, we created our own classroom book inspired by his book.

Poetry:

In the early primary years, students are growing as readers and writers.  We all require support to become more independent and confident in our new learning.  Writing prompts and predictable structures can help emergent writers to get started and complete their work.

On the first day of fall, we wrote short poems called “Good-Bye Summer!  Hello Fall!”  We generated ideas for our writing by sharing what we love about summer and fall in a Knowledge Building Circle.  We also used Drama to play out our favourite activities and connect our bodies to our learning.  We sang songs about the signs of fall, drew pictures, and wrote about what we noticed in our Nature Journals.

MSI:

In my first year of teaching, I started as a Long-Term Occasional from October-June.  The teacher who left was exemplary, and she had established a program called MSI: Math-Science Investigation, which I continue to this day.  Before STEAM, there was MSI.  It involves solving problems through building.

During MSI, I invite students to build a structure connected to our current inquiry (e.g., build a structure that includes a repeating pattern, build a habitat for an animal, etc.)  After building with different materials (e.g., pattern blocks, straws and connectors, corks, Lego, etc.) students will write and draw about their structures in their Math Journals.

 

When I asked students to build a structure connected to water, they made: a hydroelectric dam, salmon, a lake, pipes, a boat, and a machine that turns saltwater into freshwater.

Toy Day:

Every 6-8 weeks, I organize a Toy Day in our classroom.  On this day, everyone is invited to bring a toy to share.  We use these toys as provocations for many learning activities in the classroom, including Drama, Math, Writing, Media Literacy, Art, etc.

At the beginning of Grade 2, I am collecting diagnostic assessment data about my students, and I always use the Grade 1 Ministry of Education writing exemplar, which is descriptive writing about My Toy.  After sharing and playing with our toys, students are motivated to write and draw about their toy.

Goal-Setting:

COVID-19 has impacted student learning in different ways.  There might be gaps in achievement, which need to be identified before we can build new skills.  I will use the assessment data to develop individual short-term writing goals with each student, and support everyone to work towards meeting their goals.  When students work towards individual goals that are “just right” for them, they can always feel successful.  These writing goals will also be shared with families, to strengthen the home-school connection and encourage a relationship of collaborative assessment.

Deciding whether or not to make the switch…

Happy Thanksgiving Weekend!

For most of us, this is a weekend to relax with close family while eating turkey, but for many families, the deadline is looming close as they have until Monday to decide if their child will be returning to the physical classroom or not. In my school board, our re-organization date where students will either re-enter or leave the classroom is November 3rd. Therefore, families have to make the choice after less than a month of on-line/in class learning.

To help families make their choice, I gave parents an update about how their child was fairing in our online classroom. That, combined with the updated COVID case numbers, may help parents make the tough decision. I have spoken to many students and teachers about the current situation we are in right now. In the physical classroom, you can chat with peers (while keeping your distance), you can see your teacher/students face to face and you can spend recess/DPA periods outside while playing together. Yes, masks have to be worn at all times and you need to keep your distance so that does make the day a bit challenging. When online, you can hear from many students at once with the use of microphone and chat features, you can stay safe while in the comfort of your own home and you can meet new students from around the school board. There are many pros and cons to both but ultimately, the decision may  based on a complicated family health history or so much more than we could know about.

I am anxiously awaiting the results of this survey as families decide. Some teachers may be asked to return from the online classroom to the physical classroom but my guess is many more teachers will be declared surplus at their school as more online classrooms are created. Who knows what lies ahead but I do know that I feel for parents this weekend as they try to explain to their children why they must keep them online or send them back to the classroom. These are challenging times and as usual, I do not know what to expect for the November 3rd re-organization date.

Hope all is well out there fellow educators.

Engaging with Indigenous Knowledge as a Non-Indigenous Educator

Over my teaching career I have been fortunate to teach in schools with high populations of Indigenous students and to learn from the knowledge keepers and elders in the communities that our schools served.  Admittedly, I haven’t always said or done the right things but I have learned from those mistakes.  As a non-Indigenous educator, I know that I will continuously be on a professional and personal learning journey.  I acknowledge that it is my responsibility to do this learning.  There are resources that I have used along the way and I hope that by drawing attention to the following resources, I can assist others in their learning journey.

In order to avoid cultural appropriation, to honour and respect Indigenous culture and history as a non-Indigenous teacher, it is important to have the appropriate resources. We can’t avoid teaching about residential schools because we don’t feel comfortable.  It is a part of the Ontario Curriculum.  It isn’t just about “history” either.  Current events draw attention to the pervasive issues faced by Indigenous peoples.  These are teachable moments that are authentic and relevant to students.  Students will be asking questions and forming opinions. As educators we have a responsibility to assist students to find accurate and culturally respectful information.

If you are looking for a place to begin in your learning journey, visit ETFO’s First Nations, Métis and Inuit Education website.  It is filled with cultural protocols, resources and Ministry Documents.  It is a treasure trove of information on treaties, land acknowledgements and avoiding cultural appropriation.  Throughout the literature are hyperlinks for explanations of concepts and lexicon.  Through ShopETFO you can purchase the FNMI Engaging Learners Through Play  resource created for elementary educators which provides play based activities that engage all students.

A quick resource can be found on code.on.ca (The Council of Ontario Drama and Dance Educators). This resource provides a quick chart of protocols on what to do, what to avoid, why to avoid and what to try in order to bring learning about Indigenous culture and history into your classroom.  This document also provides links to videos about Indigenous Arts Protocols, and a quick reference guide for what to think about before engaging with Indigenous Knowledge.

The website helpingourmotherearth.com is filled with tools and resources for educators including videos of Indigenous Knowledge Keepers telling their stories.  There are free educational resource kits with lesson plans for primary, junior and intermediate students.  In addition, you could sign up for professional learning or a workshop on the site.

Like me, you might make mistakes.  However, my Indigenous educator friends have coached me that the worst mistake that non-Indigenous educators can make is to do nothing.  I hope that highlighting these resources will help you along your professional learning journey.

We didn’t “celebrate” Orange Shirt Day

This tweet hit me square in the brain. It was neither confrontational nor rude. It was simply a sublimely and sage sentence that stuck. I said it over and over again while researching, reading, and reflecting while preparing to teach about Residential Schools on September 30th.

“We don’t “celebrate” #OrangeShirtDay.” A simple reminder to all educators and learners.

So before we started our learning today, I told my 2 grade 4/5 English classes that “this was not a celebration.” Today was meant for reflection.

I did compliment them on their numerous orange shirts, and then we were off. The first question was “Why are we wearing these shirts today?” The responses were varied and honest. One student shared how a little girl had her orange shirt taken from her. Another few recalled bits of what they had learned last year, while others seemed like this was all new to them. We went from there?

My next question was, “Have you ever heard of residential schools?” followed by, “What do you know about them?” These two questions led to some solid conversation around the institution of school as we know it compared to the residential schools where First Nations, Metis and Inuit students were forced to attend. I shared about the living conditions, the daily routines, and the terrible food. I added that they could only speak English and would be punished when they didn’t or for a litany of other things for that matter. I wanted to guide students to the understanding that something was wrong with residential schools. They got it.

I could see their eyes and minds opening after explaining how the children were scooped up and taken away for 300 days at a time, far from home, and separated from the only family they knew. Students also learned that the RCMP would arrest families who resisted. And then the question I was hoping for;
“Why were kids taken to residential schools?” Why would they do this?

This became a pivotal point because it led us to a discussion about who “they” were? Putting the brakes on for a moment, I changed they to “colonizers”. The phrase European settlers came up too since we were talking about it. This led to the point where students found out that the government was also part of the “colonizers(they)”, and that their plans included wiping out First Nations, Metis, and Inuit culture through laws and enforcement of racist colonizer policies. The word discrimination came next, followed by a call of racism.

We talked and listened a lot. I shared some connections about how the government tried to label all First Nations as uncivilized savages in order to justify its desire to separate them from their land, their culture, and their dignity.

We talked about the importance of hearing the truth, and that there was more to learn. We promised to continue beyond Orange Shirt Day, and we sat quiet watching this video without sound and then with sound. https://www.nfb.ca/playlists/orange-shirt-day-edu/playback/#2 It was a powerful moment for students to see the images life in a residential school and then to reflect on why we were learning about it.

There were no tacky culturally appropriated mis-interpretations. Orange Shirt Day will not become a seasonal event like Halloween or Valentine’s Day in our schools. We will remember and continue exploring the truth about the legislated genocide attempted by the Canadian government on First Nations, Metis, and Inuit. We will also continue to examine how we continue to benefit from those inhuman actions to this day.

Today was not a day of celebration. September 30th was a day to listen, to become informed, and to reflect on the way that Canada has mistreated the First Nations, Metis and Inuit. We didn’t “celebrate” Orange Shirt Day. We inquired about it. We wrestled with it. We saw residential schools for the terrible places that they were to so many people. We sought to know more of its truth. We wore orange to respectfully remember.

Additional resources:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PlV8jUd2WtxcxrTHJK_HtZimP2Usng9k/view

A Year in the Life: What does being actively engaged in your local look like?

I consider myself a fairly involved member of my local. I’ve served as steward for 8 years, participated in committees, attended workshops. A few years ago, I took a big leap: I ran for an elected position (Collective Bargaining Committee). Most of this has just been me grasping at things that I thought sounded interesting at the time, but I’ve often found myself wishing that I’d gotten involved sooner. If I’d known what was involved in some of these opportunities, I would have gone for them much earlier on!

With that in mind, I thought it could be worthwhile to document the different ways I engage with my local throughout the year, in the hopes that it may inspire some of you to seek similar opportunities in your own locals.

For post #1 in this series, I think I should talk about how I got started in all of this back in 2012 and wound up as my school’s steward.

I don’t come from a union background. My parents have never been members of a union and we never really talked about unions – positively or negatively. I wasn’t an OT for very long, primarily because of the perpetual FSL shortage, but I attended a few informational meetings while I was. Then, in 2012, I was hired into a permanent position at the school where I had been working as an LTO teacher.

At that time, we were in the midst of contract negotiations. The steward at my school had been steward for a long time, upwards of 10 years, and she suggested that I tag along to a few meetings to see what it was like. I’m the first to admit that I’m a highly curious person with serious FOMO (fear of missing out), so I liked the idea of going to the meeting and hearing more about our bargaining situation first-hand.

At the meeting, I got to see the union in action. We heard from released officers, committee chairs, stewards. We had opportunities to ask questions, table motions, and interact directly with the people elected to represent us. It was thrilling for me. Who knew I liked meetings so much?! I loved hearing from people from all over my board. Until that first meeting, I hadn’t fully realized how much things could vary from school to school. It was also fascinating to hear people speak so passionately about their areas of expertise, whether that was in LTD, Health and Safety, equity, bargaining, etc.

After that first meeting, I started attending more often with my steward, serving as a de facto alternate. She helped me navigate some of the intricacies of being a steward, what the different acronyms meant (because oh BOY are there a lot of acronyms that everyone seems to just assume you know!), who the long-time stewards are that I could ask questions of, some of the history of our local. She started including me in some of her interactions with colleagues so that I could see what it meant to be a steward at the school level.

When we staged our one-day political protest, I was volunteered to be picket captain. I’d never held a picket sign in my life, and suddenly there I was, responsible for rallying my colleagues and managing the site. Whoa! But also, super energizing!

The following year, I officially took over as steward, giving my colleague a much-needed break. I served as steward for my school from that point until the end of last year, through good times and bad, seeing them through some of the most tumultuous times I’ll ever see in both my personal life and my professional life. There were long days, but I really, really loved the sense of purpose and connection I felt in serving as steward. I also learned so much about my union that I never would have known otherwise!

This year, I’ve stepped back as steward – in part to try to encourage some of my colleagues to become more involved, and in part because I need to take a break to focus on some things in my personal life. It feels so strange not being the point person for communication, questions, problem solving. At the same time, I’m excited to see my colleagues getting more involved. I hope one of them finds it all as interesting as I do.

If you’ve been wondering what it’s like to be steward or you even just want to learn more about your local, I urge you to reach out to your school steward and see if you can attend a meeting. You just might find that you love the job!

A child in an orange shirt lying on the floor.

Commiserating With Others Over Their Technology Woes

Many of us have been assigned the unusual teaching package of instructing our classes online this year. A year ago, that would have seemed unthinkable. Teaching students from their homes with their pets, music blaring, siblings crying and unreliable technology would have seemed like a tall order. But here we are.

For me, my assignment that I received recently is called the hybrid model. In a nut shell, I am teaching my students who are attending in person simultaneously with my students who have opted for online learning. The important note to this assignment is that all of my students have a Developmental Disability and a variety of complex learning needs.

With three days notice of this hybrid model assignment, my colleagues and I moved quickly to explore the technology required to make this happen.

This is what the last week has looked like as I prepared:

 

This was my face when my Smart Board’s touch screen function now required you to touch things 1 foot to the right of the item you want to open.

This was my face when my student’s Chromebook wouldn’t load Google Meet for some unknown reason even though every other Chromebook loaded it just fine.

This was my face when my hard drive in my personal laptop imploded during the training for this new hybrid model.

This was my face when my office email refused to work three of the last four days.

This was my face when my desktop computer in my classroom no longer started, my student’s live streams crashed multiple times and the volume refused to work on my student’s iPad when we removed her headphones.

For those who are having technology woes, I feel your pain.

I am sure that things with all the technology will look up soon. I remind myself daily that we should be very thankful that we have access to iPads, Chromebooks, Smart Boards, laptops and desktops. There are many students all over the world that do not have access to even one of these things to support their learning. Tomorrow, I will pick myself up and try to figure out how to problem solve our challenges. For today, I sympathize with your challenges and I feel your frustration!!

Good luck for the month of October!

10 Years In, and Out of My Depth

This year has been… interesting. I’m entering my 10th year as a teacher this year, and in that time, I’ve been through some wild times – mostly in my personal life, sometimes in my professional life, occasionally in both at the same time.

This year has been, hands down, the most difficult – and we’re only two weeks in.

This is harder than teaching while 7 months pregnant in a high-risk pregnancy.

Harder than teaching while my mother underwent cancer treatment.

Harder than jumping into an unfamiliar assignment 1.5 days before the school year started.

Harder than coming back to work after parental leave to a new admin, a fall reorg, surprise tornadoes in September.

Other bloggers here have said so many of the things that I would have talked about – feeling out of my depth, like I can’t find my feet, like everything could change on a dime and we have no control.

What I’m struggling with the most, though, is how to teach French Immersion. So much of my program usually relies on students being able to interact in authentic and meaningful ways – something that I can’t quite seem to make happen when they’re all sitting in rows, facing the front, wearing masks.

I’m an experienced French Immersion teacher. I’ve been teaching FI of some kind since 2011, and specifically Middle French Immersion since 2012. I usually feel pretty grounded in my teaching, with confidence that I know how to adapt my teaching so that all of my students can succeed. I’ve walked into a class of 34 first-year immersion students! But this year, I’m struggling.

I say all of this because I want you to know, if you’re a newer teacher out there who’s thinking they’re out of their depths, they’re struggling to keep their head above water, they can’t find their feet – you aren’t alone. Being a new teacher is HARD. It’s fraught with uncertainty, anxiety, and second-guessing. Being a new teacher in a pandemic, though? That’s something else entirely. It’s a new league of “hard.”

Please, be kind to yourself this year. This is not the year to take too much to heart about your ability to teach. This is a year for survival – knowing that things will look, feel, and be different, and that many aspects of your program may not even work.

At the end of the day, ask yourself these questions:

Are your students cared for?

Are your students happy?

If you can say yes to those questions, you’re doing fine.

We’re back and it feels…

  • …like a weird batch of emotions being mixed up in my head everyday. 

I use the word “weird” here as an amalgam of thoughts in order to come to grips with a whole whack of feelings. For now, let’s discuss 4 of the unique states of mind which I have been experiencing. They can be captured by the acronym C.A.G.E – confusion, anger, grief, elation. 

Confusion 

When we said our goodbyes in late June, we went home not knowing what was to come. How could we, no one did? It was a true test of the resilience of our profession as we transitioned from our physical spaces and into the virtual ones. It was emergency distance learning 101 for us all. Nobody knew how long it would go on, or how the students would respond. I recall the incredible stress of having to convert an old table and chair into a workstation at my house, the physiotherapy that came afterwards from my less than ergonomic set-up, and the (a)synchronous instructional awkwardness.

SO, after completing the balance of the academic year online and 3+ weeks of virtual summer school, I was really ready to be back in a classroom. In fact, I was elated at the possibility because things were proceeding as normally as they could as numbers declined and even though everything was up in the air when it came to education. 

At least, our tentative assignments and schedules had been shared, there was more than an air of uncertainty that things were bound to change. Daily news reports, and social media posts had us all still holding our breath. What was school going to look like after “emergency distance learning”? What was the government’s plan? What were are school boards doing to be prepared for September?

Anger

There was no shortage of sound bites and stories to fill in the gaps, and for a fleeting moment in late July, it almost looked like the numbers were dropping enough as if the winds of possibility filled the air. Things began looking positive, yet it was still relatively quiet when it came to direction from our current government when it came to education except that they had experts working on it. Come mid-August, my bubble of hope burst with news of increasing numbers of cases. Any residual confusion had given way to anger and disappointment in this educator. 

When school board emails began coming again in mid-August, the uncertainty around COVID 19 in our schools left us scratching our heads, as we did back in March. Little did we know what was about to drop on us all when school boards began surveying families about their choices for virtual or in class learning? But, that’s a topic for another post. 

It was pretty easy to get angry although it didn’t help. Yelling at the TV, like Grampa Simpson, everytime a new daily increase of cases was announced or at how someone somewhere decided that a large social gathering was a good idea without taking precautions. Seeing newsers with the Minister of Education spinning government yarns about funding increases, which they had stripped, and safety of the students raised my ire too. No wonder I spent so many hours muttering to myself while cleaning the garage in August. “Good grief!”

Grief

I’d like this to be at the Charlie Brown level when he says, “Good Grief,” but it isn’t. One of the single most powerful emotions I have been battling with since March has been grieving the way that education is now divided into B.C. (before COVID-19) and C.E. (COVID-19 Era). I am sad for my students who missed out on perennial rights of passage such as grads, sports, extra-curriculars, and trips. I feel grief for the students who had to stay at home without contact with their friends other than through blue screens. I feel for the adults who struggled to support their children’s learning while juggling their own work. Acknowledging this feeling is my way of trying to move forward in a healthy way. I know there are many teachers who are feeling something similar.

Elation

After great reflection, I chose the classroom option to start this school year. Admittedly, this is a selfish choice, as I thrive in the classroom. My wife mentioned on several occasions that I needed to be back at school too. Although, I am not sure if that was for her sake or mine? Regardless of who benefited most by my return to the classroom, the fact is I was elated to be back, but it also came with a cost. 

I now go for weekly COVID 19 Tests now that my bubble has expanded. With a 96 year old and a spouse with asthma in our home, we are proceeding with great caution. I am wearing a mask and frequently sanitizing my home, trips anywhere are only out of necessity, we are co-ordinating our schedules to reduce interactions so my father in-law does not become at greater risk, and any semblance of a social life or gatherings with extended family outside our residence bubble are now only on the camera roll of my smartphone. Yet, I think it is worth it. 

A stronger feeling of unity amongst colleagues is happening. This turmoil has given rise to a new sense of telepresent professionalism(virtual staff/team meetings). Conversations are fewer, but more meaningful. Smiles are now made more expressive as they are shared behind our masks. All of these little things have made the return to school possible despite the heavy and shifting workload.

Prepping to teach this September has matched the level of confusion and effort of my very first years. It’s tough sledding right now and more changes are ahead as we have only been through a few weeks, but even though my return to the classroom this month has me staggering, I am encouraged and challenged, in a good way, to innovate and adapt.

My head is spinning most days as I grapple to sanitize, mask up, shield up, and emotionally ramp up to teach. Yet, I cannot help, but still find some happiness in all of this each day. And although you can’t see it through my mask, seeing students and staff in real life has become the biggest reason for the smile on my face each day at school despite the CAGE. 

Stay strong. Thanks for reading. 
Will

Note: 

I had the bulk of this post ready to share our first week back, but could not do it. Something was telling me to bank my initial thoughts for a couple of weeks. Maybe I wanted to take some time for the dust to settle in order to make sense of it all. Sadly, it’s still pretty dusty around here, and based on the daily streams of educators sharing their ups and downs via social media, our collective ability to sift through the mess to make sense out of it, and let the dust settle has not occured. Yet.