Obviously, things have changed. On March 15, Henry McMaster finally announced a school closure to last until March 31st. I knew that length of time would probably not even put a dent in the curve and that the way things progressed would likely get extended. Sure enough, the day after North Carolina governor Roy Cooper announced an extension of school closure in the state until May 15, McMaster announced the extension of South Carolina’s school closure until the end of April. Several governors have announced that their school closures will extend for the remainder of the current school year. Although some remain optimistic, I tend towards realistic pessimism. I will likely not see my kids again this school year which has several implications which I plan to discuss here.

First, I miss my kids, really miss them, in way s difficult to put into words. I have invested intensely in their lives this year, as I do every year, and it breaks my heart to see them go without. For example, my teammate, the math and science teacher, and I campaigned hard all year to get services for one of our students. Just when it seemed likely, the closure happened, three days before the scheduled IEP (Individualized Education Planning) meeting should have occurred.

Second, the expectations change constantly. I understand why, of course, but the ver changing expectations contribute immensely to emotional and mental stress as we all try to navigate this time of unknowns. At the faculty meeting prior to the school closure, my principal directed the grade levels to come up with a plan for what we would do if school ended up closing. We had no further directions that that. The next day at our grade level meeting we talked further, deciding only on getting out a survey to the seventh graders to determine the students’ home internet access. A few of us who followed the course of the virus so far continued to make plans and on Friday scrambled to get Chromebook chargers to students who consistently left them in our classrooms. On Saturday, our Instructional Coach sent out an email from the Academics department at the district which promised the first set of 10 days of lessons with the expectation that we would use the upcoming teacher work day on the following Friday to prepare the rest of the lessons. That got thrown out the window when the governor, on Sunday, announced school closure effective Monday, a little more than half a day later. We then scrambled over the next two days which the district converted into work days to put together lessons fitting specifications given to us that day, one of them that we should plan only remedial lessons. Even though technically that meant that our social studies team should have completely redone the lessons we had planned, we came up with explanations on how to make it work.

The changes appeared to slow down over the next few days. The slowdown was deceptive, only apparent because everyone needed a moment to catch their breath. When week 2 of the closure started, the expectations changed again without those in charge of making the expectations admitting that they goofed. The district mandated that we post all 10 days at once on our websites and in our Google Classrooms even though all teachers knew that was the perfect recipe for overwhelming students and parents. We could make the most detailed instructions with specific days listed but people tend to overlook those things, especially when presented with something brand new. We now found ourselves on the receiving end of tsk-tsk-tsk reprimands and instructions to cut back from the initially mandated 39 minutes of work per subject per day to 25 minutes. I understand that the district had to make changes on the fly, just like us. However, that does not negate the need to treat those under you in the hierarchy with respect. We also faced the ever changing expectations of contracting students. These expectations included what counts as contact, how often should we contact, and what should we hope to get out of that contact after we make it. I will leave that there because over the last three school days (at the time of writing) things kept changing and no one had answers. Things changed even further the weekend just prior to posting.)

Third, so much of my teaching happens by proxy now, through feedback. For complete accuracy, I should say that all of my teaching, save for a handful of screencastify videos to explain my expectations and how to work the different aspects of technology, all of my teaching has happened through written feedback. Teaching in this manner feels anything but normal. Although I provide a lot of the same sort of feedback on assignments during normal times of teaching, I also have the chance to interact with the students face to face, enabling a much more accurate picture of their understanding than the words on the screen. My role has shifted more towards facilitator than teacher, especially with the district mandating a lowering of expectations for student work; they already plan to work in a review period to the curriculum maps of all subjects and all grade levels in the first quarter of the next school year to cover that which the students missed this quarter.

Fourth, the transition to eLearning and the crisis that precipitated the transition’s necessity has illuminated the true colors of a lot of teachers. Crisis in any form has a tendency to do that and not just to teachers. I have seen first hand how the skepticism of the religious right, of Trump supporters, of Libertarians has tainted the response to the crisis. While my teaching partner and I saw the closure coming and rushed to prepare our students for this inevitability, another teacher on my grade level expressed dismay and exhibited an uncharacteristic lack of preparedness in our grade level text chain once the governor announced the closure. The more that I reflect on this point, the more I realize that this applies to everyone I know, not just fellow teachers.

Finally, teaching means planning, at least if one desires to make an impact with one’s teaching. A teacher looks ahead to the end goals and designs the best path to get the student there. For many, including myself with ELA, the closure means the cancellation of state testing, the end goal that so many work for to show some sort of success or progress. At this point, we don’t even know (although that did end up changing between when I wrote this and when I post this) how to grade the students’ work, how to assess their work, or what to tell them to expect. Teaching in limbo is hard. Some teachers will succeed in this time. Some will not. In the end, I hope that I can learn and grow from my experiences in this time and in the end become a better, more empathetic teacher.