coronavirus

Tired and Overwhelmed – I Hear You

My middle grades teaching career began in August 2003 when I found a teaching job in line with the guidelines for the Master of Arts in Teaching alternative route to certification.  My family moved from the metro suburbs to a rural community. Yes, we moved one day, and I attended a teacher inservice the next.

I worked full time as a 7th and 8th grade teacher of record with a provisional license, teaching three classes of each grade level for a total of approximately 160 students.  The administrator and language arts department  assisted me, but I had come from the private sector — administrative assistant in marketing — and feared relying on others too much.  Certainly I could handle reading 160 essays, providing feedback, and grading revisions before the statewide portfolio assessment was due.

Teaching full-time, grading students’ papers and writing my own, and leaving two little ones behind while I attended class each Saturday made me question (many times) why.  I felt stuck — we had moved, I needed to finish this degree, and I did not know if I could handle one more day.  One Saturday, I entered the university classroom, saw other students with their composition notebooks, and realized my journal assignment was incomplete. Before class even started, I had hot, overwhelming tears of frustration spilling from my eyes, no longer containable.

It is years later, and I am okay.  I have written several times about classroom successes and exciting professional experiences.  My colleagues — friends — make me thankful each day for choosing such an amazing career.

But not everyone is okay right now.

The Padlet board “An Anonymous Teacher Speaks” reminded me of hot, overtired, stressed, one-more-thing tears of not enough — not enough me to be my best.

Not enough of my best to read, provide feedback, and grade

and learn new technologies, plan engaging instruction, implement online activities

and conference with students and parents

and attend workshops, trainings, and committee meetings

and be a parent

and be something for myself.

I hear you.

Tell me how I can help you be okay.

 

Happy Hour

Educators depend on time and space for professional conversations and collaboration to improve classroom instruction. Often these collaborative efforts are planned as part of professional development workshops or professional learning community sessions.

Yet, what we need even more are conversations that “fill” us when we’re tapped out. Some of the most meaningful, innovative, “light-bulb” moments for me have been informal chats in the hallway between classes.

In spring 2020, those impromptu check-ins or “water cooler” conversations disappeared. Working remotely has separated us physically from one other and joined us unceasingly to our workspace (kitchen table, home office, living room). The time before or after scheduled department meetings when colleagues casually checked in with one another in the doorway or corner of the room has been replaced by entry chimes to a screen full of faces. I remember the times before spring 2020 when I joked about needing a magic wand for transporting me to back-to-back meetings. Now, I do magically transport myself with the click of “end meeting” and “join meeting” buttons.

How can we find ways to recreate the informal hallway chat when we’ve been connected all day?

Recently, several of us met to try a virtual happy hour.  Although we had intended to break into small groups to discuss books, movies, or recipes, we opted to stay together to just talk.

No agenda. No meeting minutes. 

We had rich conversations about our remote and in-person teaching experiences.  We compared and learned from one another’s stories while sharing virtual shoulders and hugs for individual struggles.

Was it the same as 2 for 1 wings at our favorite eatery? No, not the same. But we do not have a comparison for this new existence, so we move on and move forward by supporting each other the best we can. If virtual happy hour is the best we can do right now, then I guess you’ll get to see wings grilled my way. Cheers.

Korean Fried Chicken Wings
by powerplantop

 

When It’s Time to Step Away

Yesterday, I spent half the morning reading news.  During the other half, I read student discussion board posts.  This constant access to news and daily briefings pulls me away from other productive tasks – grading, planning, cooking, socializing.

Then, after receiving notice that K-12 schools will be closed until at least April 30, I began worrying even more about my college junior, high school senior, and 8th grader academically, socially, and emotionally.

  • My college kiddo has another year, but this was supposed to be her first summer staying on campus.  We haven’t heard if campus will be open in May or not. The uncertainty of this spring and summer – college, baseball, jobs – makes all of us anxious.
  • The senior has been furloughed from her vet clinic job.  Now she’s much more aware of her separation from normal daily senior routines and friends.  I meant to get a picture of her in scrubs as a 2020 senior tribute.  Perhaps there will be another time.
  • The athletic eighth grader has been horizontal more than vertical on some days.  Baseball has been postponed indefinitely.  We bought the baseball pictures, but it might be more to remember his team than to celebrate their time together.

As for me, quarantine jokes are starting to resemble my reality a little too closely.  My days are blurring together.  I feel guilty many evenings for not accomplishing more that day.  I see little point in dressing in real clothes.  This article about working from home provides some good guidelines.

One social media post from a retired teacher reminded me (us) that we are not homeschooling our children; we are surviving.  E-learning was intended to be short-term and not a replacement for teaching.  Children should read, do math, and be creative during this time away from the classroom.  All will be fine.  The online lessons cannot replace the classroom experience for most students, and I am finding that to be true for many of my college students, as well.

However, I cannot ignore the blessings that have emerged.  The 13-year old asked his mom and dad to play Uno with him Monday night.  He won – but that was before we looked up the real rules.  It will be a different story next time.  I’ve also heard him talking with his older sister, the one he always fights with.  She might have been listening to him explain football, something she has previously had no interest in watching, playing, or hearing about at any level.  All three of them wrestle at least once every few days.

I need more of this.  I need to step away from the digital world.  Constant news, opinions, activity ideas, quarantine memes, among my responsibilities to be online to grade and respond to colleagues and students are pulling me into a strange emotional, information overload.

It is time to unplug.  The next few days might be warm enough for some walks in between classes and emails, but I plan to schedule some longer blocks of time for me and the family to turn off all devices.  A new Yahtzee game is opened and ready.  We’ve brushed up on our Uno rules.  I could try winning another game of Monopoly.

Unfortunately, spinning the wheel on The Game of Life might hit a little too close to home.

One Situation, Multiple Experiences

Education at home

Each day this week, I have awakened with a surreal, unfamiliar feeling.  It has been disorienting to realize in the few moments after waking that life is a different normal.  We are in the very beginnings of an education plateau. No new, meaningful, strategic learning can take place without dedicated caregivers who can access all the tools being made available online.  I can help my own children access learning tools, but can everyone? Although I can teach literature analysis, help with reading comprehension, and discuss history, science, and multimedia, there was a reason I did not become a math major in college.  

Family

We had the talk with our 13-year-old son.  Quit playing with multiple kids outside. This is it.  He wasn’t happy, but he will comply. So when he wrestles with his sisters, chases the dogs around the house, or hits baseballs into the net in the basement, I will need to lock my lips tight, sit on my hands, and create a blank face.  And if I let the kids sleep until late morning in order to get a few quiet work hours, please do not judge.

At work

In higher education, we have been fortunate to already have several online delivery systems in place for optional use among professors who teach face-to-face courses.  Shifting immediately to online spaces is not easy but also not impossible, particularly with the level, timeliness, and constancy of support the tech teams are offering.  We are attempting to make online classes feel the same as face-to-face meetings with tools such as Blackboard Collaborate and Zoom, and I plan to test other interactive tools – Padlet and VoiceThread – for consideration in a true online version of this course that was already in the works.  Who knew that I would be testing them so soon?

But the struggles are still real.  One student has reached out to ask if the synchronous Blackboard Collaborate session during our scheduled class time was required.  She has taken more shifts at her grocery store job in order to make up for the hours lost as a teacher’s aid.  She assured me that she can figure out a way to attend class virtually at the scheduled time if necessary.  But I would rather figure out a way to engage her in the class without costing her essential income.

Finally

These are disorienting times.  The current situation is forcing our nation to redefine essential jobs.  This may be the biggest and most important lesson that our children will learn right now.