Hello from behind my computer screen. I’ve got a black and white dog sprawled out beneath my cluttered desk. My shoulders are almost as achey as my bottom, which is planted in this rollie chair far too often. I desperately need a standing desk–but the one I want is sold out!

I have a virtual classroom of students in Resource right now. I’m staring at a black screen sprinkled with avatars that shout out individual personalities. They’re working on assigned classwork (or having lunch, or doing yoga, or catching a quick nap) before their final class of the day begins.

Teachers don’t sit. We gesticulate, moving our arms all over the place as we share lessons we’ve stayed up past midnight to create. We walk miles around the room. We don’t sit–unless it’s next to a student for a desk-side conference or compliment. I miss walking between the desks, seeing the trinkets, pencils boxes, and notebooks that quietly told me a little bit more about the incredible humans sitting in my classroom.

I know, with an outstanding English team right beside me, I’m doing the very best I can under these circumstances. Whatever you do in life, do it with all your heart. I’m putting in so many hours in front of a computer screen I think my eyes are bound to shrivel up into piles of electrically charged dust.

This virtual school is really hard for students and teachers alike. We miss socializing with each other. We miss sharing our classroom space. We miss the normalcy of a school-day routine. I miss teaching to teenagers who are squeezed into desks, doodling on every inch of paper, talking about real-world problems, and making my long hours feel worthwhile and important.

I hope and pray we’re back in the classrooms with our students by January. Please, people, wear a mask, wash your hands, and let’s unify and take care of each other. Our kids need school, and our schools need kids. We teachers are working 70 hour weeks; it’s just not sustainable.

Hanging on by a thread,

Mrs. Rombach