Wrap your heart around a teacher...

March 12th and 13th of 2020 are a blur. We went from hearing rumblings of the need for drastic measures to contain a virus that was quickly approaching the title “a global pandemic,” to shocking restrictions and closures. March 12th was the last typical day in my classroom. On March 13th, I sat with my dear colleague and we quickly formulated a plan. We halted our path of instruction and made short term goals. We planned for three weeks of virtual learning, but then the Governor extended that time frame and with each pause and turn, we rode the wave through the end of the school year and right into summer. That has been the theme of the past year for teachers - pivot, ride the wave, don’t look back just keep moving forward. The need to be on guard has been constant, we can’t take a breath, we can’t settle or ease up. Change has always been the constant in education, but not this kind of on alert, life threatening, unknown change, it has been exhausting.

Even as we started the 2020-2021 school year, our hope was to find a routine in the chaos, but there was still a brittleness to the moment. Cases, deaths, the numbers were influx constantly and so we had to be prepared to pivot, prepared to move from hybrid to completely virtual, but also have the forethought to what the transition from hybrid to all back in would entail, it was unsettling. As a planner (most teachers are) I desperately wanted to ease the struggle and sketch out my instruction, immerse myself in this new routine, and create cohesion in my school world, but there was always this hesitation to not settle too much, to not plan too far out, because we lived in the unknown. The need to be on edge, to be prepared for anything, I always thought I was equipped for these moments, but this has been all together different. After the past year and quarter, if you haven’t already, it’s really time to wrap your heart around a teacher.

Wrapping your heart around a teacher means knowing that they have felt like they were failing for the past year. I realized quickly in the spring that virtual teaching was not something I enjoyed, nor thrived with. Now maybe with time I would have found my way, but in April 2020 I significantly lacked the right skill set and it didn’t have to do with being “techy” or flexible, I am those things, I just didn’t have the experience or know how to build an engaging and dynamic virtual classroom experience. I was holding live check-ins and students wouldn’t put their camera on or use their mic to respond. I was receiving little to no feedback and I need that instant feedback, a facial expression, a smile and laugh, a raised hand, a thoughtful response. Virtually, I wasn’t getting it and I became extremely self conscious, questioning everything, doubting my decisions. Teaching in the spring of 2020 was tremendously lonely.

Wrapping your heart around a teacher means knowing that our profession relays greatly on building relationships, and this pandemic has altered how those are formed. Feedback is what fuels reflection and that is where I thrive and grow and it wasn’t happening in the spring. In the fall, I was so happy to be back in school in some form (my district started in a hybrid model), but what I didn’t realize was how crippling wearing masks was going to be for my students. It was almost like a muzzle and so once again, even though we were physically together, the feedback was muffled and engagement was challenging. In a typical year my classroom is a buzz of energy and conversation; students sitting in groups, constant dialogue, and I am just a small part of the puzzle. My classroom now is set in rows, desks six feet a part, “turn and talk to your neighbors” has become a dicey request, and so all eyes have fallen on me, I’ve had to become a teacher I wasn’t sure how to be, the voice in the classroom, the only voice at times.

Wrapping your heart around a teacher means releasing them of the guilt they feel for not living up to their own expectations. For everyone this pandemic has layered in a sense of mourning, the loss of normalcy and traditions. I have struggled greatly to accept that just because it’s not like last year, doesn’t mean it’s not good. Our own expectations can be tough to reshape, but as this school year has progressed, we’ve bended and reworked our practice to meet our students where they need us to and that’s just like last year and the year before that.

Wrapping your heart around a teacher also means that you have compassion for the mixed messages that have been delivered to us. constantly. I have been told to just love these students and throw standards to the wind and at the same time pressured to provide equal level of instruction as I have in the past while only seeing my students half as many days in person. I have been told to focus on the social emotional needs of my students, but in the same breath reminded that the state test will still take place and so to be sure to work through the curriculum with the same rigor and fortitude. The administration of our school district and community of parents have breathed both storylines into our souls as if both are most important for our students to endure a year like this one. “Don’t let them fall behind, but also just love them up.” Our heads and hearts have been on a swivel, how can we possibly make the right choice and appease all involved?

Wrapping your heart around a teacher means having compassion for the difficult choices they make every day and how taxing this year has been on them mentally. When this school year started my colleague and I made the decision to start with argumentative writing (our district had issued us a scope and sequence and so this was a change in the timing of argument for us, but we knew we had to bend). It’s hard to put into words the challenge of building curriculum this year, but I’ll try…we couldn’t pull out last year’s unit plan for argumentative writing, the students didn’t have the same prior knowledge, the focus of violence was too heavy for what our hearts were going through, and the breakdown of lessons had to be thrown out because now I was seeing my students two days sometimes three days in person each week versus five consecutive days. Everything was thrown out, everything required careful thought, everything was hard. What emerged was the idea to investigate something relevant, something we might all be seeking right now - happiness. What emerged was so good. I worried that it didn’t follow the traditional guidelines, it wasn’t your typical pro/con argument, but it was what they needed. And in the end I think it served them well. This was all year; reenvisioning the focus, maintaining consistent requirements, asking students to stretch and grow in the best way they can. That didn’t seem like a difficult choice, but what was challenging was designing this meaningful curriculum to fit within the framework of the schedule.

Wrapping your heart around a teacher means having an understanding that there has been a significant shift in what classroom management entails. This year classroom management has not consisted of managing behaviors, but rather ensuring that students use hand sanitizer on the way into the classroom and wipe down their desks and seats on the way out. Dress code also includes making sure that masks are worn and worn correctly. In the past, we would have the occasional family take a week long vacation, but now we are creating charts to oversee students who are quarantined, how many more days will they be out, what can I provide them with when they are away from the classroom for two plus weeks that has just as much meaning as what we are doing here, and when will I make time to meet with them virtually because if not learning will cease to exist. Are the desks 6 feet a part, did they come within close proximity for more than 15 minutes, be sure to practice for an active shooter, remember the fire drill procedures, are they learning, and most of all are they happy? Classroom management is much more heavy than it ever was before.

As much as teachers need to be hugged, to be thanked, to be affirmed for the tremendous work that has been put forth, we also acknowledge that there has been good in these taxing times. Just like with any challenge, what follows is change. This year forced me to evaluate and determine what was most important in my curriculum, it stretched me to reinvent what is best practice and valued routines in my classroom, and it reminded me to teach the whole child. My students researched and wrote arguments about the keys to happiness and spent time considering why stories matter - big important questions that their hearts needed. I spent more one on one time with all of my students this year than in the past, examining their writing, and listening to them read aloud. I became more efficient with my time at school, so that very rarely did I have to wear that hat home, but rather I could just be mom. How I operate now is actually better, and I wouldn’t have seen that without this experience and being forced to work through that and grow through that.

Wrap your heart around a teacher because we are tired, but we are also fulfilled. As teachers, we are lifelong learners and so. while playing the role of the teacher, we are also always a student. Teaching during a pandemic has taught me the art of giving yourself over to the moment, pausing and then slowing the pace to ensure careful steps forward, and the knowledge that I am resilient and that my students are too when I lead by example.