Reflecting on a Remote Year
I think the news of the pandemic hitting is a flashbulb moment for many of us.
By early March 2020, COVID had already become fairly well known and widespread, to the point where you’d be out in public trying to go about your day, but actually thinking “OMG. That person just sneezed. Maybe there was COVID in it.”
My 2020 flashbulb moment: It was a Friday. After school, a colleague and I were headed to meet another friend for a cocktail hour to celebrate the arrival of the weekend. As we sat next to each other in a crowded subway car, I couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit uncomfortable at the thought of being so close to others, breathing the same air, gripping the same metal bars to prevent from falling over. “It’s fine, Danielle… don’t overthink it,” I assured myself, pushing what I believed to be irrational COVID fears aside.
Arriving at our destination, we said hello to our friend and headed into the restaurant. In that moment, our phones buzzed simultaneously. A news notification. The school district would be shutting down until after the April school vacation. We were, of course, speechless, confused, and worried. Little did we know, it would be a complete year until we would return fully to teaching in person (and we all know that this return is still far from normal).
My story is not unique. We all remember the moment we were told the world was, quite literally, shutting down. Educators were asked to disperse what technology we could to students, convert to virtual classrooms ASAP, and then find a second to sort out personal situations within our own families.
But we did it. WE DID IT. We quickly learned the worlds of Nearpod, Google Classroom, Seesaw, and Classkick. We gave out our cell phone numbers to students and families to ease communication. We FaceTimed our most struggling students to ensure they were healthy, safe, and could at least find our online resources. We transformed curriculum not intended to be taught online into digital assignments. We endured hours of “Wait, can you say that again? You’re frozen” and “Hey, Jimmy, please turn your camera on.”
After a year of teaching remotely and in a hybrid model, what I am most flabbergasted by is how COVID-19 launched us into the future. We have arrived in an era that perhaps we may not have for another 5 or 10 years. Adults were able to pick up technology skills that have opened doors, and our youngest children are now more tech-savvy than we are.
Perhaps most importantly, this pandemic has rejuvenated my appreciation for people.
The above photo was taken in the first weeks of the closure. My students and I were discussing what we were thankful for-something I wanted them to focus on amidst the chaos and stress of all the COVID unknowns. Admittedly, the first half of the 2019-2020 school year had been one of the most challenging yet of my career. I had a class of beautiful, loving students that needed more of me than I felt was possible to give, and my patience was running thin. Sometime in January / February I even wished for the school year to move along more quickly, so I could have a fresh start. Then, low and behold, we went remote. And all of a sudden, I realized how much those tiny humans had nestled their ways into my heart, and felt a sense of loss that we wouldn’t really get to say goodbye or finish our year together.
OK, Covid. You got me. You are an ugly, disheartening, frustrating, life-spoiler and fun-ruiner. But you taught me to pause and appreciate my students, colleagues, friends and family. So for that, I thank you.