 |
| Me, kind of not sucking at distance-teaching... |
I’ve been wanting to write about this for weeks,
but it’s been impossible to settle on one particular way to feel about teaching
in the midst of a pandemic. Ultimately, I guess, I don’t have any one
particular way to feel about it.
There are moments of success, connecting in real
ways with families and students over the phone or video chat or whatever. I
kind of LOVE creating video lessons, like to the point where I’m tweaking out
on it a little. I’m not saying they’re any good. I’m just saying I love this
shiny new tool in my toolbox and I will now build 50 different dilapidated birdhouses
in a variety of shapes and colors because TEACHING!
And there are moments of struggle and fail. Many
of them. Trying to teach myself how to schedule a video IEP meeting on
Microsoft Teams had me flat on my back in grown-ass-lady tantrum mode a few weeks ago. And, as much
as I love making video lessons, I dread doing “live” shit. My “live” shit is weak, sparse, redundant, and not super-well
attended. I hope to balls it’s not part of our performance evaluation this year,
because holy moly, is all.
But the sharpest and most persistent stick in my
side is this: I still can’t seem to find the cognitive balance between the
voices that want so much more teachy-teaching from us (administrators,
mayors, state officials, newspaper columnists, lawyers, tiger parents, etc.)
and the voices that want so much less (parents, generally). The closest
consensus between all of these voices seems to be “NO NOT LIKE THAT!”
Last week I got super salty about a McSweeney’s
article, of all things, that mercilessly exposed the sad fact that we classroom
teachers kind of suck at digital marketing distance learning. It’s almost
as if most of us have had no training or practice in the field. It’s almost as
if we’re using clunky technology that makes a grrrl really lean in to those tech skills she acquired growing up on the farm in the 80’s, twisting the TV’s
rabbit-ear antennae to hear and see MASH through the static. We’re doing the
best we can with the flimsy-ass tools we’ve got, trying to calibrate our skill
set to parameters that just don’t fit.
The crankiest part of me wants to ask…. “And for
what?”
Because is any of this actually helping? Or is our hard work and Apollo-13ing basically just…performative? Expected of us? Defensive, even, against the
many, many detractors of public education and its teachers? Does anyone who
might truly benefit from our work even want us jumping through all these
flaming hoops?
We’ve done a lot of good, meaningful work, too. I’m
proud of us for keeping our students fed, and for how we’re providing families
with books and laptops and various and sundry gap-narrowing devices. That’s
essential work.
But this so-called “continuous learning” rollout…I
mean…What even was school in the first place that we’re scrambling so
hard to maintain its status quo? What do “grade level standards” even mean when
people are dying of plague-on-crack and class inequities are blazingly exposed
like never before? What am I even doing when I reach out to a family that I
know has been hit hard by all this COVID mess and I'm all like “Good news, dude.
Phonics lessons!”
So, yeah. I get it. I’m disappointed in us, too.
I wish I could do more. When the schools first closed I saw it as this
tremendous opportunity to revitalize what public education even means. We were
free! We could keep what was working and toss the rest; help our students
follow their passions and start a whole new public education revolution!
The thing is…I was tired. So were my students.
Any attempt at psyching them up for the revolution left them kind of shrugging
and asking for a nice, safe, predictable worksheet. I’d be lying to say I wasn’t
relieved. I’m too weary for revolution right now, folks. Maybe another day.
So, for now, I wake up every morning, down a pot
of coffee, and twitch and tweak my way through this brave new world of
digitizing the status quo. It’s not good, and it’s not bad. But, you know. What
is? All of us have strengths and weaknesses, and now we get to see them play
out through the filter of a global pandemic, hopefully learning some new skills
along the way.
No easy answers. But I guess I can think of worse ways to spend a plague.
No comments:
Post a Comment