First Year of Teaching & COVID-19
I've been teaching sixth grade this year. My first year as a teacher. It's been HARD. I know that everyone's first year of teaching is known to be hard. So I was expecting that. But it's exceeded even my expectations (and my admins expectations) for just how hard it has been. Challenging in every possible way. And yet... I was finding my way through, somehow managing to build my classroom community, teach, and actually love what I was doing. Teaching is not for the faint of heart. Nor for the slacker. Believe me when I say, it's by far the hardest thing I've ever done... childbirth included. And like most things in life (childbirth included), it was good. I know I was involved in a school that is doing the best it can and making decisions in the best interests of all it's students. They are supportive of their teachers and families. They place a HUGE emphasis on the arts, on equity, and on high quality instruction. It's exactly the school environment I was hoping to find. I couldn't be more excited that I am able to become a part of and contribute to their community.
Today, the governor of VA closed schools for the remainder of the year because of COVID-19. It's the right decision. I get it. And honestly, I'd be worried about going back to school this year. Germs spread like a wildfire in that setting. But I'm still not okay with this decision. I just keep thinking of my 6th graders and all the things we were in the middle of... so many behavior challenges, we were just starting proportional reasoning (such an important math concept... I hate that they will be starting 7th grade without it), they were all making great progress in reading, our upcoming field trip to Gettysburg, our newly implemented Fantastic Fridays, our current read aloud... all of it, just gone. Not to even mention all of the individual needs. I love my students, and I love what we were doing.
Our last day together was a bit of a roller coaster. Several of my kids had gotten into bit trouble that week and they were still lashing out over the consequences. At the very end of the day on Thursday, right after the first dismissal bell rang I'd had it with the nasty remarks... before I put up the bus dismissals, I called my whole class together and sat them down. I reminded them that despite what they may have been thinking, I was working as hard as I possibly could to keep each and everyone of them in my classroom at all times... not in the office, or in suspension, or in a buddy classroom (taking a break). That they all deserved to be in my room because that is where the learning happens. That I want each and every one of them to know that I am always fighting for us--all of us-- to get to that point and if at any time they forgot about that I was happy to be the one to remind them of exactly WHY I know we all belong there. I told them that we would keep working and learning together and that I had high hopes for them. I spoke from the heart as someone who genuinely cares, not as their teacher who is "in charge" of them. And they listened. No one made any sarcastic remarks (which for 6th graders is a rare occurrence, they live and die by sarcasm), no one challenged my sincerity, no one rolled their eyes, or joked it off. They listened. Maybe they were just tired and scared after a long day and with all the things that were just starting to happen. As the last two girls left that day I had this little spark of a thought "this may have just been the end" but I quickly brushed it away... holding on to hope that I was wrong, and we'd get to be together again.
I knew that if we could just have one more day together, I would have seen another shift. We've had several shifts throughout the year. Moments where we took a purposeful step in the right direction as a group, and the classroom felt lighter and more joyful even as the learning intensified. We've had a lot of those shifts in the last few weeks. And I knew there were more to come. Nothing's perfect and I know we would have had a lot more bumps in the road on the way to the end of the school year. But that's to be expected. I'm sad now because we won't have any more shifts. We also won't have those teachable moments. The moments where we all come together to realize how to change ourselves so that we are better for each other... myself included (and especially). I'm so sad to be losing that. Our work together wasn't done... and I know it probably never would be totally done. But it was cut short very abruptly and I'm grieving for what could have and should have been. For what my kids deserved to have.
I think we're going to move to online learning in some capacity. But it won't be the same. Better than nothing I suppose... Kids can have exposure to some facts, some ways of knowing, some communication. But the really important, hard work that we were doing.... that requires us to be together, in the same shared space, with shared experiences. Sharing our perspectives, our personalities, our failures, and successes. And as all the "online" tools, tips, and resources flood my social media and email I just can't even begin to sift through it all or make any sense of it because the core of what we need to do this work well isn't there, and I just don't know how to build up anything without that strong foundation.
At this point, I'm giving myself time. Time to grieve, to process, to read, to enjoy my family, to SLEEP (aallllllllll the sleep), to sit with the uncomfortable feelings of the unknown. I'm not ready to jump into the next step... yet.
And that's okay.
Today, the governor of VA closed schools for the remainder of the year because of COVID-19. It's the right decision. I get it. And honestly, I'd be worried about going back to school this year. Germs spread like a wildfire in that setting. But I'm still not okay with this decision. I just keep thinking of my 6th graders and all the things we were in the middle of... so many behavior challenges, we were just starting proportional reasoning (such an important math concept... I hate that they will be starting 7th grade without it), they were all making great progress in reading, our upcoming field trip to Gettysburg, our newly implemented Fantastic Fridays, our current read aloud... all of it, just gone. Not to even mention all of the individual needs. I love my students, and I love what we were doing.
Our last day together was a bit of a roller coaster. Several of my kids had gotten into bit trouble that week and they were still lashing out over the consequences. At the very end of the day on Thursday, right after the first dismissal bell rang I'd had it with the nasty remarks... before I put up the bus dismissals, I called my whole class together and sat them down. I reminded them that despite what they may have been thinking, I was working as hard as I possibly could to keep each and everyone of them in my classroom at all times... not in the office, or in suspension, or in a buddy classroom (taking a break). That they all deserved to be in my room because that is where the learning happens. That I want each and every one of them to know that I am always fighting for us--all of us-- to get to that point and if at any time they forgot about that I was happy to be the one to remind them of exactly WHY I know we all belong there. I told them that we would keep working and learning together and that I had high hopes for them. I spoke from the heart as someone who genuinely cares, not as their teacher who is "in charge" of them. And they listened. No one made any sarcastic remarks (which for 6th graders is a rare occurrence, they live and die by sarcasm), no one challenged my sincerity, no one rolled their eyes, or joked it off. They listened. Maybe they were just tired and scared after a long day and with all the things that were just starting to happen. As the last two girls left that day I had this little spark of a thought "this may have just been the end" but I quickly brushed it away... holding on to hope that I was wrong, and we'd get to be together again.
I knew that if we could just have one more day together, I would have seen another shift. We've had several shifts throughout the year. Moments where we took a purposeful step in the right direction as a group, and the classroom felt lighter and more joyful even as the learning intensified. We've had a lot of those shifts in the last few weeks. And I knew there were more to come. Nothing's perfect and I know we would have had a lot more bumps in the road on the way to the end of the school year. But that's to be expected. I'm sad now because we won't have any more shifts. We also won't have those teachable moments. The moments where we all come together to realize how to change ourselves so that we are better for each other... myself included (and especially). I'm so sad to be losing that. Our work together wasn't done... and I know it probably never would be totally done. But it was cut short very abruptly and I'm grieving for what could have and should have been. For what my kids deserved to have.
I think we're going to move to online learning in some capacity. But it won't be the same. Better than nothing I suppose... Kids can have exposure to some facts, some ways of knowing, some communication. But the really important, hard work that we were doing.... that requires us to be together, in the same shared space, with shared experiences. Sharing our perspectives, our personalities, our failures, and successes. And as all the "online" tools, tips, and resources flood my social media and email I just can't even begin to sift through it all or make any sense of it because the core of what we need to do this work well isn't there, and I just don't know how to build up anything without that strong foundation.
At this point, I'm giving myself time. Time to grieve, to process, to read, to enjoy my family, to SLEEP (aallllllllll the sleep), to sit with the uncomfortable feelings of the unknown. I'm not ready to jump into the next step... yet.
And that's okay.
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