I defy anyone to teach middle school or high school during Covid. I really defy anyone to teach in a hybrid mode to any students. You are allowing students into your class, while your sanitizing desks, taking attendance and starting a lesson—all in five minutes. You see, you have kids in person and kids watching your lesson online. When do you get a drink or go to the bathroom, you might ask. When do we do that? Ha! Ha! Ha! We don’t. We are wearing Depends. Or don’t pee until after noon.
Seriously, since March, teaching has been next to impossible, and I’ll be honest I HATE IT. I’ve given it my all, but I realized students and parents expected us to work 24/7, and I did. Not any more. After 6:00 is MY time as are our weekends. Now that doesn’t mean that many students are rude as are parents. But you seek, we are not trained in pandemic teaching. Are we trained to save our students if a school shooter takes on our school. Yeah pretty much. Can we get kids to the tornado shelter. Yep. Fire drills? Easy peasy lemon squeezy. But Covid teaching. Nope no training. We are teaching as we learn as well. I spent 20 hours learning how to Zoom to students not in class and then prep the room for the students entering my room. I was sanitizing while I started my Zoom, made sure students were in their desks and phones were away, and started class. I felt like the plate twirler on the old Ed Sullivan show.
To add to the fun and whimsy, yesterday, I had a student drop the F bomb four times, and I received a needless and egotistical letter from one of my Accelerated Students. The F bomb kid or kids can’t stand together and make one brain (I promise I’m not being mean, just accurate), so this was not terribly nefarious. Just irritating. The “ain’t I special” student is bright, but assumed that my priority was to regrade his paper. Immediately. The moment he resubmitted his paper. This is what I ran into last spring. No student is patient. No student is grateful. This letter made me PISSED. This kid is bright, but not Bill Gates or Steve Jobs bright. And how rude to write to write me a formalized letter as well as to his counselor). I hope he doesn’t ask me for a recommendation next year. Or maybe I do.
One of my few friends at school finished his last day today. He was the district tech ed instructor, and I can promise you he felt overworked and being of age to retire, decided to do so. He found a job that requires little planning and thinking. You do what you are asked to do. I envy him. And quite honestly, if we go back to the dreaded hybrid model, I am contemplating securing an attorney and seeing my doctor. Because I too want out. I had a major panic attack a week and a half ago. I never had a full on panic attack. Quite frankly, I thought I was having a heart attack. I drove myself to the emergency room. No heart attack, but my anxiety level was through the roof. I also know that for sure the last three days my heart rate has increased. I’ve eaten lots of bananas to help with my potassium levels because previous experience has told me that if I can up my potassium level, my heart rate will drop. But like my recently retired friend, I am putting plans in place on what to do should we return to hybrid. I’m too old and too weary to have the kind of week we had when we decided to go to hybrid. For a week. It was insanity. This has been harder than my first year. Partly because I had a lot of support at my first job in a diverse suburb of Chicago. My current department barely notices that my husband and I exist. I can count the times another teacher has entered my room. Five times in three years. Now my husband stops by to help me all the time. Thank God for him. So, as you may have guess, we aren’t allowed at the cool table anymore because we are over 50. When I first started teaching, I so respected the seasoned teachers. They knew what was what. I never thought—“hey let me teach them how we do it now,” or “gosh, it’s a shame you are so out of touch.” So due to a lack of support, my anxiety and panic attacks and not knowing what I face next week, let along tomorrow, I have easily aged five years. I used to look younger than my age. I don’t thing that is true anymore Thusly, I am looking to retire. Even if it is mid-year. So any Wisconsin attorneys out there or psych docs., give me a hollar if you can offer advice. I’ve contacted the state retirement committee, and I have an appointment with my doctor. I don’t want to loose my $2,000 that I will be charged if I retire prior to the end of school. But I may not make it that long.
AS a rule, I love interacting with students and experiencing those light bulbs moments. Or when kids that you weren’t sure were listening stop by to say that they miss you. That’s why I’ve done this for 30 plus years on the high school and college levels. God knows, it isn’t the money. But that’s okay. For the most part, I’ve been happy. Common Core has focused so much on nonfiction literature, that I’ve realized that it is more important for kids to read a dishwasher manual than contemplate mans’ inhumanity to man. I think these past nine months have pushed even the most zen and relaxed-go-with-the-flow teachers. For the planner that I am, this has been a nightmare.
On the bright side, our union rep is awesome. I’ve treated him like a therapist, and he has patiently read my e-mails (unlike my kids, brother or husband). I’ve always liked him. Hopefully, he sticks around for a few years. We start reading a play on Monday, so we’ll see how that goes. I have no clue? It may be wonderful or could crash and burn. That’s the problem with Covid. We don’t know from one day to the next what will happen. So, as I wait for the final results of this intense election, I will continue to grade and teach to the best of my ability. That’s not saying a lot. However, I am giving 100% and doing my best. At least Friday, and Schitt’s Creek and Colbert have kept me company.