COVID: A teacher’s perspective

Jamee Robinson | Guest writer

Balancing act: Robinson finds the “new norm” with a conglomeration of schoolwork, coffee, homeschooling, and puzzles.

7:15 a.m. is when I hear the whistle of the kettle on the stove. This signals to me that coffee will occur within 5 minutes and it is safe to go downstairs. This is definitely one of the few bright spots of quarantine, as a typical school day would start around 5:55 a.m.

I plod downstairs where my husband awaits with my coffee and my newspaper. Yes. A REAL newspaper. Made of dead trees. Prior to school closure, I decided to subscribe to my local paper, both to be supportive of this dying industry and because newspapers make for great garden mulch. I’m glad I did as gardening is one of the view activities I can still participate in. I skim the headlines – as of Saturday, my state of Maryland will be requiring us to wear face masks when patronizing essential businesses. The stock market tanked. Again. I linger over the obituaries, wondering how many may have been affected by COVID-19. Most of them note that services will be held virtually, or at a later date, and I ache for those families.

As I scan the headlines, I think about all of the lost teaching opportunities. As a Government teacher, COVID-19 is bringing together so many teachable themes: the power play between state and local governments; the balance between liberty and order as governors order distancing measures; checks and balances as the various branches of government coordinate a response. As I sip my coffee, I wonder how much of this should I bring into my distance learning lesson plans. These are amazing opportunities to really show students how government interacts with their lives, but do I really want kids to log into Google Classroom and see assignments surrounding Coronavirus when they may have sick family members at home? When they are maybe sick themselves? When they or their parents may have lost their jobs due to COVID-19? As the teacher of seniors, do I really want to remind them of the reason they have been robbed of their senior year? The caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet, and it’s too much for me to handle. I decide to attack the crossword puzzle instead.

8:30 means I have to take my dog Jack on the first of his many walks. He is going to be so disappointed come August when the number of his walks decrease. Back for a 9:00 Google Meet. Mass confusion. How will final grades be calculated? How will we celebrate our seniors? What about the kids who are not logging on? I think back to an article I saw in the newspaper this morning that participation in distance learning is disproportionately affecting low-income students. My mind wanders to another article I saw about how California is preparing for the fall. They are considering requiring students to wear masks, having staggered arrival times, a hybrid of distance and conventional learning…Again, too much, but now I’m out of coffee. Fortunately, my Internet goes out and I decide it is a signal that the meeting is over. Living out in the country has its benefits.

My 9th grader plods downstairs, snags a muffin, and heads to go back upstairs to do her own distance learning. She has been assigned to do An Hour of Code and mumbles that this is evidently elementary material. It is obvious this teacher is filling a void, because this is not even related to the class she is taking. She complains her English teacher is assigning way too much work, most related to current events, which she really doesn’t want to think about right now. I hear her. But I will still make her do it. Her real focus is on her AP US History class. Yesterday morning, she spent 3 hours collaborating with her classmates on history notes and has been able to keep up with her grades successfully. And why not? She has supportive parents with stable jobs and plenty of food in the house. I hope she knows how fortunate she is. Again, my mind wanders to the kids I haven’t heard from.

10:00 AM. The 4th grader, the true teenager of the household, is still asleep. I think she may be having the worst experience of us all. We live in a small town, a village really, and she doesn’t have anyone to play with. There is a playground that we can see from our house, but it is currently cordoned off with caution tape. In between her own distance learning, she has been playing Roblox with her friends constantly. I feel guilty about letting her play so many video games, but it is one of the few ways she can connect with her friends nowadays. And besides, as I type, it is currently snowing. SNOWING. In April. Gah!

I check emails. I sent out emails to approximately 300 parents and students yesterday, laying out how I am going to proceed with learning for the rest of the year. I have gotten approximately two responses. As I parent myself, I get emails from my daughter’s 4th grade teachers that I find wholly confusing. Some are using Google Classroom, while some are just sending random links embedded in emails. I am not sure what is due when. I use her gradebook to keep track of essential assignments, and think about the few emails I have received from students and parents since shutdown. They are mostly about grades. And here, COVID-19 has unveiled yet another systemic problem with our society.

School is not about grades. It’s not about whether you got an 88% or a 94%. I’m sorry that we as a society have fed you this lie and perpetuated it. School is one of many gateways towards understanding the world around you. You don’t learn Algebra because you might be assaulted by slope-intercept form on the way to work – you learn math to teach you logic and reasoning. You learn English to know how to read various sources to keep yourself intelligently informed and to write to know how to intelligently respond. You learn history to examine and compare current events to historical ones and you learn government to evaluate how well your elected officials can respond to a crisis. You learn science to be able to peer past misinformation and to create solutions. You learn the arts to create ways to communicate your experiences with others and, frankly, to entertain yourself. You learn languages to expand your world beyond your country’s borders and you engage in technical education to learn how to build things. You learn physical education to keep yourself healthy and finance and economics to keep yourself fiscally healthy. If there is one thing I wish we as a society will change when we go “back to normal” it is to deemphasize or even eliminate this emphasis on grades. Teachers should be like coaches – guiding you, watching you perform, giving you feedback; repeat. Because in 20 years, no one is going to remember or care what score you got on your Unit 3 test. What we will care about is whether you have the information you need to navigate your life with the goal of living the best life possible.

I know you are stressed. I’m stressed. Things are fluid. We have to constantly adapt. My work space right now is a dining room table I share with my husband and a partially completed 1000 piece puzzle (which possesses most of this prized real estate). I am distracted by his many conference calls, but this is the best place in the house to get a WiFi signal. Kids stream in and out, asking for food, help with homework, bickering over whose turn it is to feed the chickens. The dog suddenly barks at a neighbor walking their own pooch. It’s hard to concentrate. I may have forgotten to take a shower. The floors are perpetually dirty. The husband quietly mutters something about our toilet paper inventory and suspiciously looks at the children. This is why planning a lesson has gone from taking 2 hours to taking 4 hours. And despite the effort I am putting into paring down my lessons to give students the essential information they need to function in this society, many of my students can’t or won’t log in to complete them. And frankly…that is just fine by me. If there is anything history teaches us, it’s that we will get through this. As a nation and a world, we have survived pandemics and economic downturns before. We will do it again. So do your best with your learning and I will try to do my best with my teaching. But both you and I need to put our mental and physical health first and remember the goal of learning is not that grade, but understanding this world we live in. And we will get there.

COVID-19: A View From Abroad

Nathalia Hardy | Guest Writer

Nathalia Hardy and dog Finnegan hold an illustration sent by Joseph Witchall and Viva Bahriya, 10th grade students in Doha, Qatar. Like most locations, Qatar is practicing social distancing, with students learning from the safety of home. Photo courtesy of Nathalia Hardy.

Almost two years ago, I moved from Leesburg to Doha, Qatar to take a position as a Librarian at a private International Baccalaureate School. Last year, I moved onto The Pearl, a man-made island in Doha with extensive parks and beautiful ocean views. The Pearl is home to a large expatiate community with many different nationalities, as well as Qatari. Qatar, a peninsula state on the Persian Gulf, has a population of 2.8 million people, 88% of them are foreign nationals. Only 40,000 of those are from the United States.

Early this year, I had watched the situation in Wuhan unfold and began to prepare for restrictions here. I watched the US news as COVID spread there. The images of food shortages and empty shelves, as well as crowds on the beaches, were scary. Here in Qatar, the situation is different, although there are some similarities.

As the virus spread, Qatar’s first case was confirmed in late February. The virus gained a foothold through citizens and residents returning to Qatar from other countries. Through extensive testing and quarantines the spread has been limited. As of March 18, the Ministry of Public Health has reported 4,663 positive COVID cases and 7 deaths; over 58,000 people have been tested.

As positive COVID cases were identified, measures were put in place across the country, including the transition to online learning. On Tuesday, March 10, we began online learning. Two days later, the teachers were also requested to prepare to teach from home after spring break. The Senior school where I teach is a one-to-one school. It also serves primarily Qatari students. Families are very supportive of education, although, like parents in the US, they were not necessarily prepared to take over the job of teaching their own children. Like others elsewhere, we have worked together to create solutions to benefit the students.

For the past three years, Saudi Arabia and the UAE have led a blockade against Qatar. While initially there were food shortages, the government put measures into place to ensure future food security. The blockade did much to strengthen Qatar and its food security. Qatar has a two-year supply of non-perishables, a farm that assures dairy products and a supply of chicken. I have not experienced food shortages or empty shelves.

As time has passed, the Ministry of Public Health has instituted a variety of measures to prevent the spread of the virus. While restaurants here are closed, most are offering delivery. Grocery stores and pharmacies, as well as hospitals, are open. Delivery services and some shops offer delivery as well. Churches and Mosques are closed, as are local parks, beaches and campgrounds. Gatherings are prohibited and reinforced through the use of drones and robots.  The robots have an automated message to remind those walking around the marina and beachfronts about the social distancing requirements. The airport still operates for transit through to other places, and there are limited flights out. This is one difference. Not only is the Emir willing to institute measures for public protection, but the public is largely willing to accept them.

As around the world, business here has suffered. People have been laid off or asked to take their annual leave. After maid and cleaning services were discontinued, some unscrupulous business owners stopped paying their salaries and providing food, even though they are under contract to do so. The process through the government and the courts will address these issues. In the meanwhile, the community here is stepping up to provide food. The Pearl Community group is now making food deliveries to support almost 350 individuals affected by business closures. Local restaurants and charities are also providing food. I believe this is happening around the world. Neighbors helping neighbors. Communities coming together.

Personally, I spend a lot of time walking my dog, Finnegan. The weather here is still beautiful, so it is nice to be outside. I purchased an indoor bicycle before the stores closed, to prepare for the summer heat. I help delivering food to those in need. I am also studying Arabic online. Once school ends, I will be creating the school yearbook for distribution in the Fall, inshallah. I also hope to pick up my writing this summer. And of course, there is Netflix and Hulu. I miss my family and friends. I have very fond memories of my time at County, especially this year’s seniors, some of whom were my last class there. As we look forward, I know that there will be ongoing changes for our community until a vaccine has been developed. Yet, I remain hopeful that the new normal will come soon.

An Open Letter to Students

Kathryn Ives | Guest Writer

I have been teaching at County for twenty years, and I’m pretty good at it. I don’t profess to be amazing, but I think I hold my own at making a class relatively interesting and engaging. I think most of my students leave me having learned; their horizons are broadened and they see my passion for books and the written word (and cats.)

A few years ago, I had an AP class where one of the boys started keeping track of the strange, funny, and crazy things I would utter.  That same boy said I should get a Twitter account because I was so funny. He said many people would follow me. I replied, “No, I would not be funny in print.”

Why is this relevant to teaching online during the COVID-19 pandemic, you ask? Here’s the thing – I am engaging, in person, in the moment. I am at my best responding to the action in the room. My funny, my “living out loud” personality is all because I have these students (all of you): live, breathing, smiling, pouting, happy, exhausted, sad, excited, nervous, brave, enthusiastic, resistant, churlish or avid, but breathing and responding to me. Without you, teaching is not the same.

Now, my days are spent sending emails, creating hyperdocs (that have suddenly become the panacea of online education), posting said hyperdocs to Google Classroom, praying that the links work (they never do the first time, and luckily, at least one of my students is always kind enough to contact me and tell me that my links don’t link), and trying not to lose my mind when I get a new, and frequently contradictory, declaration from my higher ups. More and more directives keep coming. Each time, my colleagues and I roll with it and adjust.

Despite all of the adjusting, the reality for most teachers is that the only email that matters is the one to all of our students/parents asking them to let us know if there are any issues, especially if students have not completed any of the tasks we have posted. Honestly, we just want to know you are okay.

Coming from my deep teacher heart, I don’t care if you do my work as long as I know why you aren’t doing it. Respond to my email that asked if you are okay and write, “Yes, Ms. Ives, I am good, but I’d rather focus on math.” Or “Ms. Ives, I’m just trying to adjust to this new normal where everything that made life fun is suddenly unavailable, so school seems unimportant.” Or “Ms. Ives, my family’s world has fallen apart, no jobs, no income, worrying about food.”

No matter what you tell me, I will understand, and if I can help, I will. I, we, just want you to be safe. School is a bonus. I check off who has completed work to know they are alive and functioning. I figure if you are doing anything I post, from a survey to a journal, I know you can access the work and your life is functioning enough that you tried.

This was supposed to tell you what it is like from the teacher side. We make work for you because we want you to have it if you want it. We may make too much because we honestly don’t have a clue how long it takes to complete an assignment in this new online school world. Tell us!

If we assigned something and it took much longer than the 30 minutes a day, 150 minutes over the course of the week, tell us. We will change it, we will adjust.

We are flying blind and you are our eyes. However, if you do not talk to us (via Google classroom, email, or any other way we have set up to communicate with you), we cannot change course.

Starting in the next few days, many of us will be using Edmentum. It is brand new to us. It is County mandated. It will not feel like us. In its defense it covers the required standards. If you take it seriously, you will learn more. And once again, if it takes longer than we think, tell us.

Finally, I know I speak for many of the teachers when I say this. Teaching online sucks! But it is all we have right now, and we are just trying to follow the directions as we are being given them. You know how you sometimes sit in a class and think, this is such a drag, maybe I can go to the “bathroom” and walk around school for a little while. That’s how it is for us these days. But if you check into our online school on a regular basis, even if it is just to do one thing, we will be happier. And if you want to chat with us, we will be ecstatic. We miss you. I miss you.

Ms. Ives