Wednesday, May 13, 2020

March 13th...

Today I walked into my classroom and saw March 13th written on the whiteboard. I saw our classroom calendar with field trip dates, birthdays, and special activities that never happened. I saw pictures and work with stickers on them waiting to be sent home. I saw empty tables and seats. I saw blank student whiteboards. My messy desk, checked out library books, stacked chairs, empty hooks.

Then I started thinking of all the things I didn’t see: my students, pencil shavings on the floor, smiles, hugs, and high fives. I didn't see backpacks on hooks, eager hands raised in the air, kids working together, excitement, laughter, joy, and a messy classroom after end of the year parties. Growing friendships. Lightbulb moments. Our community.

It’s true, we can still have some community through online classroom activities and hangouts. However, there are so many moments in a classroom (big and small), that just can’t be recreated online. It’s those moments that I miss for my students. Those same moments are the reason why I teach, and without them it is incredibly easy to get burnt out. I’m tired. My eyes and head hurt all the time from the computer screen. My back and bum hurt all the time from sitting all day. I’m overwhelmed trying to stay on top of it all. But most of all, my heart often aches because our class is missing so many moments.

We left school on March 13th, totally unaware our class would never be together this year in that room again. We didn’t get to prepare or say goodbye. School as we knew it ceased to exist, and a new learning journey began.

It is truly amazing how quickly they adapted, and just kept going. They are the reason I keep going.

    I have never been more impressed by a group of 8, 9, and 10 year olds... Their work ethic. Their perseverance in pushing through week after week. Their willingness to try and try again. How quickly they learned a totally new way to learn. Their commitment to class hangout time. Their effort in keeping our community alive. Their silly comments with 30+ exclamation points at the end. Their excitement when they get on Google Hangout- and all the things from pets, to Pokémon calls, to Tik Tok dances that they are dying to share. 

Today, I also watched video after video of my students responding to their classmates’ mini video presentations. I cried, laughed, smiled, and cried some more. They were so kind. “Wow, you did such a great job!” “I really loved your project!” “I learned so much.” “That teepee is life-sized?? That’s crazy!!!”  It may seem small, but those smiling faces and kind words to each other were just what I needed.

Years from now when this is all over, I hope that’s what I remember. I hope that’s what these kids remember.

I hope they grow up and laugh at themselves for their excessive use of question marks and exclamation points. I hope they look back and are proud of themselves for adapting to learn online in record time. I hope they remember the teacher parades, the classroom hangouts, and silly videos. I hope they remember that in the midst of so much craziness in the world, our classroom community was a safe place- where they were free to learn, to laugh, and to share.

As we end the school year in a way we’ve never ended before, I still miss all my kiddos and those classroom moments. But, I know this class and their resilience, joyful spirits, and kind hearts will forever hold a special place in my heart. They are the reason why I teach.

There have been a lot of shoutouts for a lot of different people lately- which are SO, SO deserved. But I’m not sure I’ve seen a thank you shoutout for the students yet. Their worlds were pretty much turned upside down in a day with so much change for their young minds to process. So to my students, and all students- thank you for making this work the best you can. Thank you for being flexible and understanding. Thank you for working hard. Thank you for pushing through. You are the reason why I teach.