I’m the kind of teacher who knows which students could use a granola bar from my stash, who packs extra yogurt and fruit that I might not need, just so they have nutritious options when my supply of chewy bars runs low. What are those kids eating now?
Yesterday, I tried an exercise with my ninth graders on Google Classroom, asking them a simple question. Given that we are in a densely populated urban area plagued by poverty, it struck me that many of my students are in survival mode. In our district, three of the six hardest-hit zip codes are located. It’s a staggering reality as everyone grapples with COVID-19.
So, I thought, if these students are preoccupied with their next meal or their safety, why would they focus on my Newsela or Common Lit assignments? I asked them to share how they were doing, and if they didn’t want to write much, they could reply with an emoji. Just please, I urged, respond.
Suddenly, my quiet Google Classroom became lively. I posted a video message expressing how much I missed and worried about them—something I think about constantly. The first response was, “miss you making me cry.”
I feel the same. This so-called “new normal” will never truly feel normal.
I kept telling myself I would write about this experience, but the motivation just wasn’t there—until now. I always encourage my students to find their voice, even during stressful times, and I promised I wouldn’t ask more of them than I would of myself.
So here it is: I’m not cut out to teach behind a screen. I miss our jokes, like my tall student, a delightful girl who loves to pretend she can’t see me above the crowd. “Have you seen Miss? Oh! There you are!”
I long for the smiles, the joy of seeing them happy to be in my presence. After my daughter’s tonsillectomy, when I returned to work, their faces brightened my day.
How do I say goodbye to students I was meant to teach for three more months? It’s unsettling to think I won’t have the chance to teach this group again. My heart aches for my students, who continually occupy my thoughts, and for my own children, who miss their teachers and the stability of routine. This current setup, if it can even be termed that, isn’t working for anyone.
For more insights on navigating these unprecedented times, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. If you’re interested in further exploring related topics, visit this blog post.
Summary
In this reflective piece, the author shares the emotional toll of transitioning from in-person teaching to online learning amid the COVID-19 pandemic. They express concern for their students’ well-being and the loss of meaningful interactions. The piece emphasizes the struggle of adapting to a new reality that feels far from normal, while also highlighting the importance of connection and understanding during challenging times.