I've been making a concerted effort to document this time in my teaching because it's just so unlike any other time in which I've taught. I don't think I could forget it if I tried, yet I still want to be mindful of the ways in which the experience is impacting my teaching practice and life on the whole. So, I'm a little over four weeks into pandemic teaching, and I have to say (checks over both shoulders and whispers)...
it's going really well.
(furiously knocks on wood)
To be fair, I think it's partly due to the fact that I'm just so ecstatic to be out of my house, interacting with others and feeling some semblance of routine. But there are also some elements of my teaching life right now that are directly related to the pandemic, and they're elements that I want to hold on to - or at least consider whether they might be possible to incorporate in some way moving forward.
Small class sizes
This is for safety purposes at this point, obviously, and I'm not sure it would be sustainable long term. Still, I am absolutely relishing getting to know my students really well and spending lots of one-on-one time with them. With preschool-aged students, I'm finding that the smaller class size is really helping during transitions, as well. I noticed that I'm not needing to use my trusty attention-getting signals because, well, everyone just hears me when I say it's almost time to clean up. We don't need to figure out a way to stand in a line - we just sort of move together in an amorphous blob. It makes the transitions that need to happen low-stress and more enjoyable. And speaking of which...
Fewer transitions
Our cohort is sticking together and not traveling around too much. We move between our classroom and the playground just beyond our door, and that's really about it. It means longer, uninterrupted periods of time when the children can relax and settle into their play, and that we teachers can be more responsive to their needs. Everyone playing happily outdoors? No problem, we'll just keep playing. Energy looking like it's quieting down on the playground? Seems like it would be a good time to start circle, let's sit down and read. Not having to watch the clock quite so closely has led to everyone seeming happier and calmer.
Lots of time outdoors
My teaching team has been talking for a long time about moving our learning outdoors and, in the past few years, we have definitely made larger and larger strides in that direction. And although I'm not required to spend such a large portion of our day outside, it seems like as good a time as any to really walk the talk and take it outside. We begin our day outside and spend about 2 1/2 hours outdoors every morning, coming indoors to eat, use the bathroom, and sleep. We'll go back outside again after our rest period if time allows on that particular day. Time outside has been such a positive experience for students and teachers, alike. I'm not feeling pressure to make sure we're using "inside voices" and "walking feet." We're shouting, stomping in puddles, singing, digging in dirt. It is joyful, uninhibited, and liberating.
Adjusted priorities
Going into this year, I took a good long look at what was really important to me as a teacher. And I came up with three areas of focus: Play, relationships, and wellness. I would embrace and trust play as the foundation of our learning together; I would foster positive and caring relationships; and I would safeguard the mental, physical and emotional health of everyone in our classroom community. I think I knew, even before the pandemic made me articulate these priorities, that they were at the heart of my teaching identity and practice. And yet I know I sometimes move away from them. Because I want to look like I'm doing "enough." Because if the children aren't "ready" for their next classroom, I'm not doing a good job. Because I'm feeling stressed or insecure or overwhelmed. These past few weeks, I know I've been living my truth as an educator, and I honestly can't think of a more fulfilling feeling.
Self care
I hesitate to even write that phrase because I think, in so many ways, it has become such a double-edged sword for teachers right now. On one hand, I'm grateful that teachers' mental health is finally getting the attention it deserves. But without the consistent, systemic changes that allow for it, "self care" can just become one more burden, one more thing on our endless to-do lists What's helped me is the realization that my self care - like really, truly, attending to my needs - doesn't necessarily look the way I thought it would. It's less about bubblebaths and more about weird documentaries. Fewer salon visits and more therapy, friends, and really delicious food. In fact, the most radical form of self care, I've found, is actually giving myself the space to ask what it is I need. And then doing it, without judgment and without guilt. Now that's empowering.
it's going really well.
(furiously knocks on wood)
To be fair, I think it's partly due to the fact that I'm just so ecstatic to be out of my house, interacting with others and feeling some semblance of routine. But there are also some elements of my teaching life right now that are directly related to the pandemic, and they're elements that I want to hold on to - or at least consider whether they might be possible to incorporate in some way moving forward.
Small class sizes
This is for safety purposes at this point, obviously, and I'm not sure it would be sustainable long term. Still, I am absolutely relishing getting to know my students really well and spending lots of one-on-one time with them. With preschool-aged students, I'm finding that the smaller class size is really helping during transitions, as well. I noticed that I'm not needing to use my trusty attention-getting signals because, well, everyone just hears me when I say it's almost time to clean up. We don't need to figure out a way to stand in a line - we just sort of move together in an amorphous blob. It makes the transitions that need to happen low-stress and more enjoyable. And speaking of which...
Fewer transitions
Our cohort is sticking together and not traveling around too much. We move between our classroom and the playground just beyond our door, and that's really about it. It means longer, uninterrupted periods of time when the children can relax and settle into their play, and that we teachers can be more responsive to their needs. Everyone playing happily outdoors? No problem, we'll just keep playing. Energy looking like it's quieting down on the playground? Seems like it would be a good time to start circle, let's sit down and read. Not having to watch the clock quite so closely has led to everyone seeming happier and calmer.
Lots of time outdoors
My teaching team has been talking for a long time about moving our learning outdoors and, in the past few years, we have definitely made larger and larger strides in that direction. And although I'm not required to spend such a large portion of our day outside, it seems like as good a time as any to really walk the talk and take it outside. We begin our day outside and spend about 2 1/2 hours outdoors every morning, coming indoors to eat, use the bathroom, and sleep. We'll go back outside again after our rest period if time allows on that particular day. Time outside has been such a positive experience for students and teachers, alike. I'm not feeling pressure to make sure we're using "inside voices" and "walking feet." We're shouting, stomping in puddles, singing, digging in dirt. It is joyful, uninhibited, and liberating.
Adjusted priorities
Going into this year, I took a good long look at what was really important to me as a teacher. And I came up with three areas of focus: Play, relationships, and wellness. I would embrace and trust play as the foundation of our learning together; I would foster positive and caring relationships; and I would safeguard the mental, physical and emotional health of everyone in our classroom community. I think I knew, even before the pandemic made me articulate these priorities, that they were at the heart of my teaching identity and practice. And yet I know I sometimes move away from them. Because I want to look like I'm doing "enough." Because if the children aren't "ready" for their next classroom, I'm not doing a good job. Because I'm feeling stressed or insecure or overwhelmed. These past few weeks, I know I've been living my truth as an educator, and I honestly can't think of a more fulfilling feeling.
Self care
I hesitate to even write that phrase because I think, in so many ways, it has become such a double-edged sword for teachers right now. On one hand, I'm grateful that teachers' mental health is finally getting the attention it deserves. But without the consistent, systemic changes that allow for it, "self care" can just become one more burden, one more thing on our endless to-do lists What's helped me is the realization that my self care - like really, truly, attending to my needs - doesn't necessarily look the way I thought it would. It's less about bubblebaths and more about weird documentaries. Fewer salon visits and more therapy, friends, and really delicious food. In fact, the most radical form of self care, I've found, is actually giving myself the space to ask what it is I need. And then doing it, without judgment and without guilt. Now that's empowering.
Make no mistake, I'm not a fan of every part of my teaching life right now. Masks are finicky, my hands are chafed, and our mostly-silent mealtimes just feel odd. Nevertheless, in many ways, I am teaching the way I have always wanted to teach. And I'm grateful for it.
Fellow teachers, I'm curious to hear from you! How is it going? What has surprised you? What do you think you might keep from these times?
Fellow teachers, I'm curious to hear from you! How is it going? What has surprised you? What do you think you might keep from these times?
