A Day in the Life

Ever wondered what it's like teaching elementary school virtually? 

It's a whole new can of worms.

My day usually starts around 5:45am, with an artificial sunrise alarm clock that makes waking up before actual sunrise marginally less unbearable. Coffee is the immediate priority, obviously. 

Then once my coffee cup and eyes are about half empty and half open, respectively, I get dressed. Since it's winter, usually this means a nice sweater or blouse and cardigan, with fleece-lined leggings, fuzzy socks, and slippers completing the ensemble. One of the very few perks of teaching from home: I only have to look professional from the waist up. (A student asked me in October, "Is this what you look like at real school?" I said yes. What they don't know won't hurt them.)

By 7:00am I'm usually logged on to my work computer. Class doesn't start until 9:00am but I need the time to prep my PowerPoints and assignments. Theoretically, there 95 minutes of daily planning time built into my duty day, but even when I get all 95 of those minutes (read: on the rare occasions that there are no meetings scheduled during that time), 95 minutes is still not enough to: 

• grade assignments, 
• sort through and respond to the approximately 8,000 emails from parents, principals, and colleagues who don't know the difference between "Reply" and "Reply All,"
• create a day's worth of lessons and online assignments essentially from scratch (because the majority of "digital lessons" provided by my school district are in reality Word documents with a few vague suggestions)
  
• do whatever else gets put on my to-do list by someone else. 
  

At about 8:45am, I microwave my half-cup of now-cold coffee that I forgot to finish drinking as soon as I opened my computer, and then I log on to Google Meet. It's not an exaggeration to say that within 0.002 seconds of my starting the online meeting, a happy little "bing!" announces the arrival of at least 2 students. I spend the next 10 to 15 minutes alternating between listening to what everyone had for breakfast, dodging rather personal questions ("Ms. L., how come you're not married?"), and repeating the same beginning-of-class instructions I read off the screen every day: "Finish eating your breakfast, use the bathroom, make sure you have your Math and Reading books and a pencil, make sure your computer is fully charged or plugged in, make sure you are in a quiet place where you can focus."

You would think that they know the drill by now, especially since all of these directions are also on the screen, with pictures, as they have been since day one. But you would be wrong, because every day, several children will turn on their microphones when I am mid-sentence halfway through a lesson to inform me that they're going to the bathroom, or going to get their notebook, or grabbing a charger, or they can't hear me, shouting over the TV blaring in their background to let me know. (These are the moments when I say, "Okay, class. Ms. L. needs to take some deep breaths now before she flips her lid. Take some deep breaths with me now, everybody.")

*IN....aaaannd OUT..........IN..........aaaaaannnnnddd OUT.*

I like to start off the day with a silly check-in of sorts. Sometimes it's things like, "If you were a donut, what kind would you be?" Last Friday it was:

Next up is the Pledge of Allegiance and attendance. (Lately, I've been having the kids say a tongue-twister when I call their names. I tell them it's good fluency practice, but really it's just because hearing twenty-two 8-year-olds trying to say "Unique New York" is freaking hilarious.)

Then we move into Math, during which I have to remind multiple students multiple times that it is not in fact nap time, so you need to please sit up and pick up your pencil. After about 35 minutes of this, I send a link in the meeting chat to a quick quiz so I can see what the kids understand and what I'll need to reteach. Only about 60% of my students will actually click the link and do the assignment, leaving me to guess at what the other 40% have (or haven't) learned and try to plan my next lesson accordingly.

After that, we move into small group time. I meet with a quarter of my class at a time to try to reinforce what we covered in whole-group...assuming the kids log on when they're supposed to. Which, considering I tell them at the end of Math exactly who needs to be back at what time, and send them a link to the timer in the chat, AND send their parents a copy of our schedule every week, you would think they would at least mostly do. But again, you would be incorrect. 

*Breathe IN....aaaannd OUT..........IN..........aaaaaannnnnddd OUT.* 

Rinse and repeat for each subject throughout the day, with an increasing number of students showing up late to class, if at all, as the day goes on. Throw in a few dozen technical difficulties of varying degrees for me to navigate (in case you're wondering, it's not exactly a cakewalk to troubleshoot remotely with an 8-year-old on the other end) and forgotten usernames and passwords (which haven't changed since the kids were in first grade)...small wonder I sometimes need a 10-minute nap at lunch to get through the rest of the day.

At 3:10pm, the very end of the day, I offer 20 minutes of "Optional Help Time" for the students to log back on and work on their assignments with me. Of course, the few students who choose to show up are almost always the students who have already completed their assignments. In that case, we usually do a read-aloud (we just finished Frindle before Winter Break), or we play some Simon Says, or I just let the kids talk to me and to each other about whatever they want. Even though by this point in the day, my brain is totally fried and my eyes hurt and I still have a million and one things on my to-do list, I'm secretly bummed to kick the kids off at 3:30. Those 20 minutes of just hanging out with my students are secretly my favorite part of the day.

Often I take a break after that and go outside or get a workout in, and sometimes I just power through, but either way, I usually work at least another hour and a half after school doing things I didn't have time to do during my actual work day...with still plenty left to do when I log back on at 7:00 tomorrow morning. *sigh*

Man, I miss actually being in school. The kids miss it, too. At least once a day, I get a question about what our real classroom is like and what we would be doing if we were there right now. We miss high-fives and hugs, birthday crowns and science experiments. We miss actual books and paper assignments. We miss the cafeteria, the classroom, recess. Most of all of course we miss just getting to go somewhere every day and be around other people...

But, as I tell the kiddos, we have to keep reminding ourselves that this is temporary. This is the safe thing to do right now. One day, we will go back to "real" school. ("When?" they ask me. 😭) Until then, we just gotta try to make the best of it and keep on keeping on.

 

On the bright side, I didn't have to remind any of my students to put on pants this week. #littlevictories

Anything else you wanna know about the teacher life? Hit me up. 🠋

The Curve

 In case you hadn't noticed, there has been a pretty steep curve during this pandemic. Yes, THAT curve...

...but also the learning curve. In the spirit of end-of-year self-reflection, I want to share what I've learned a lot about myself during these last few months.

Being the self-aware Type-A person that I am, I've always known that I like having structure to my days. The highly regulated schedule of my school workday and my various dance classes, yoga classes, climbing sessions, and soccer games kept me busy in the best possible way, with just enough leeway for most of the other things I wanted or needed to do. Three years into teaching, I finally had a healthy work-life balance.

So when the pandemic first shut everything down way back in March, my suddenly empty days scared the SH*T out of me. If it had just been a break from work, I would've been fine. Usually on a school break, I would hit the gym more frequently, see friends and family, pick up some extra dance lessons, travel...none of that was an option this time. Suddenly I had a whole lot of free time--something I try to avoid at all costs--and nothing to fill it with.

It was as though the loom upon which I'd been weaving the strands of my life together had vanished, and suddenly I was a tangled pile of string on the floor. All I felt able to do was stare at my computer screen, endlessly clicking "Continue Watching" whenever the screen paused and asked if I was still there. (Why don't you just keep your judgment to yourself, Netflix?) The self-loathing that accompanied these days of binge-watching was just an added bonus.

After about a week or so, this tangled pile of string knew she had to learn how to do macrame and give herself some structure. Who knew if or when that loom she had before might come back?

I did a lot of walking and running in those early days...anything that got me moving and out of the house made a huge difference in terms of my sanity. I can recall one day when I walked non-stop for 4 hours. (One of the perks of living in the same town you grew up in: almost no thinking required for navigation.) Often, I would call and check in with family members and friends while I walked. 

Unlike the many sourdough dabblers and banana bread fiends at that time, I couldn't really get into cooking and baking due to a less-than-ideal living situation. (Read: psycho roommate who, among other things, couldn't share the kitchen. Fortunately, I was able to escape at the end of April with a few shreds of my sanity.)

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

It was honestly such a relief when we started teaching online in the spring. At that point, we only had to be online for a couple of hours a day, and it was more about checking in with our students and their families than anything else. Still, that tiny bit of structure made all the difference. Having that one block of time that I needed to work around each day allowed me to build the rest of my day into some semblance of normal. Or at least functional.

(Of course, virtual school is now eating my entire life, but more on that later.)

Having had the experience of everything shutting down, I know now just how crucial it is for me to have structure in my day with some form of external accountability in place. I've always thought of myself as a very self-motivated individual, but it turns out that when I have all the time in the world, I become a couch potato. A rather disappointing discovery, I'll admit, but if (Universe forbid) everything were to shut down all over again, I like to think I'd be better able to handle it, armed with this new self-knowledge.

TLDR; Type A millennial falls apart when COVID shut everything down (shocker) and pulls herself together (ish).

Better Late Than Never

Belatedly it dawns on me that I probably should've been blogging throughout this whole coronavirus thing for several reasons:

1. Documentation for future generations. I can see it now: me, still teaching 3rd grade 20 years from now, telling my students, "This is what life was like during the great COVID-19 Pandemic." 
2. Documentation for myself. Honestly, I have no idea what I did during most of the initial weeks of lockdown. Would've been interesting to be able to look back and see what the heck I did. (Plus I might have been more motivated to do interesting things for the sake of the blog if nothing else.) 
3. Y'all would've had something to read in those weeks and weeks of lockdown. But then when would you have watched "Tiger King" and baked banana bread??
   
4. When have I ever had so much free time? I mean, sure, now that I'm teaching online, I feel like a first-year teacher again with no time for anything but school and lesson planning and prepping. But in those early days I had nothing BUT time. #missedopportunity 

Oh, well...I'm here now. 

Better late than never, right?

It's been so long that I kind of forgot that I have this blog, to be honest. 🙈 But I've missed writing, so in the interest of doing more of what makes me happy, here I am. While I'm not dumb enough to promise another post soon (and you're not naive enough to believe it even if I did promise it), I will say that you haven't heard the last from me. 

See ya again soon(ish).