The Deep, Dark Hole That is Covid-19

      I was lost for awhile.  I had fallen into a deep, dark hole that is Covid-19. If you're a teacher, I know you can relate. It's not a good place to be. It's a scary and overwhelming place to be. I felt like nothing I was doing was good enough for my students. I didn't feel like I was giving them my best. I was crying every single day, sometimes even at school.  It's just too much!

     I hate that there are plexiglass dividers on all of my students' tables.  We have to clean them daily, sometimes more than once because of food, boogers, Play-Dough, and any other variety of "unmentionables."  There are larger, taller plexiglass dividers in my block area and in my manipulative area. One step down the hole...

     At the beginning of the school year, our district sent out guidelines for a "gating criteria" that showed how schools would function based on the positive testing rate for our county.  Guess what? We're not following it. Another step down into the hole...                                                                                                                              I needed to remind myself that these were just "guidelines" and not gospel.  Because of our building's number of kids choosing remote learning or being homeschooled, we didn't need to change all that much, except for only have one classroom at a time at recess, not the whole grade level.  Part of me was really angry about not following the gating criteria, the other part of my knows that I would much rather be in the classroom with my kids and my classroom aides than be teaching remotely. I hated that this past spring!

     We have three meals a day in our classroom. In the past, students came to our classrooms between 8:05-8:10, after eating lunch in the cafeteria and whole-school morning announcements. Now they come straight to the classroom at 7:40 and eat breakfast there.  We also have lunch and an afternoon snack in our classroom. Sometimes when I come into school in the mornings, I have to clean sticky spots on the floors or tables that the custodians have missed. Further down the black hole... My amazing classroom aides and I clean the room better than the custodial staff most days. We do it for the kids and each other, even though it's not our job. I could go on about the cleanliness of the room, but it serves no purpose. We do what we need to do for the kids. Every single day, I am grateful that our classroom is still tiled. Most of the other classrooms in the building are carpeted. Gross!

     I have a handful of students who show up without masks every single day.  We're on Day #27. Masks have been mandatory since school opened in September. Some of those masks are disgusting, as only a preschooler's mask can be. Despite many reminders about keeping masks clean, it still happens. Going deeper down the hole...  So, we now have disposable masks in our classroom, labeled with the students' names. If a munchkin comes in with a mask needing to be washed, we wash them, and the child wears the disposable one until their cloth one is cleaned.

     We've had several adults out at our building, either quarantining due to exposure or because they have actually contracted Covid. This causes people to have to cover for them, at times, because the number of Guest Teachers (substitutes) has dwindled considerably. Another step further into the dark...                                                         I feel like, in the building where I teach, everyone has gone above and beyond to help each other out. That doesn't mean it's not exhausting. It's what an amazing group of caring, compassionate educators does! As one of my colleagues said, "We rise by lifting others." I truly believe that we do that at NES.

     After a particularly tough day (aren't they all anymore?) a very wise confidante said to me, "Why have you changed? Why have you stopped doing what's best for your kids? This isn't who you are, as a teacher."  Even though it stung a little, it was the reality slap I needed.  So I've climbed out of that hole, for now. I'm back to closing my door and doing what's best for kids!  Much like flying, which we are all doing, by the seat of our pants, since this is new territory for everyone in education, I'm putting on my own oxygen mask first.

An Unprecedented Start to a School Year

     Covid can go away! I know it's not, but, sheesh! When you've been teaching as long as I have, you tend to think you've seen and experienced it all. Boy was I wrong!  Many of my followers know that I served on the State Department of Education's "Navigating Change" back-to-school implementation committee and the school district's reopening committee. The State Department of Education put out a very thorough guideline packet of information. School district and counties were then tasked with using those guidelines to formulate a plan for their particular county and districts within that county. Our county devised a "Gating Criteria" which includes different levels of delivering instruction, based on the county's positive testing rate.

     School was "supposed" to start August 12th.  That week, teachers came to their buildings to learn of the district's plan for reopening, some other professional development, and to plan for what each teacher would need for their classrooms to enhance social distancing.  Those items were then ordered and a start date of September 3rd was given.

     The school year started in "The Green Zone." Full class sizes, full school day, masks being worn when social distancing could not be maintained.  Within the first two weeks, we were in "The Yellow Zone." The Yellow Zone is class sizes under 15 students. Masks. Students being released at 1:10.  Guess who had the only class over 18?  The decision was made to move three of my students to the PreK-3 class. We did this by the birthdays closest to the August 31st cut-off date.  Two weeks later, we were in "The Orange Zone," which says, class sizes of 10, masks at all times,  students leaving at 1:10, no mixing of classrooms or grade levels on the playground. At this point, the determination was made to move four more of my students to the PreK-3 class, which is now a mixed class of 3s and young 4s, putting both classes at 13 students. Because our numbers are so low throughout our building, we were able to keep students at school for the full day, which is a huge benefit to our students.   As I write this, last week we were Yellow, but will be Orange this next week.

     I don't think that anyone dreamed that we would get to Orange as quickly as we did.  At a couple of points, it felt like we were flying by the seat of our pants, which is true for school across the country.  My little people and their families have been amazingly flexible and understanding as we navigate "Ridiculous Covid."  I feel like, after 18 school days of craziness, learning routines and procedures, not knowing who was going to be in which class, we can now move forward with the reality that is this school year and with flexibility, perseverance, and grace.  Grace, first and foremost, with our kids, then their families, our colleagues, and our administration.  With grace, compassion, and understanding, we can get through our new reality of what the school year will look like.