Just Like Us

I like all these videos on social media lately of celebrities singing, reading poetry, and just talking from their homes. The content is... okay. I have definitely come to realize just how important editors and scripts really are, though. (And I won't even address the no makeup thing. Just. Wow.)

What I like best about these recordings is the inside of the houses. It's fascinating to see the paint, the furniture, the floors, the cabinets in the kitchen, the art on the walls, the knick knacks on the shelves. Kind of like walking in the evening and catching a glimpse of your neighbors through the light in their windows, it reminds you that everyone has a whole life as real to them as yours is to you.

Like one of Heidi's students said at the beginning of their first teleclass, his mind completely boggled, as images of his classmates and teachers tiled the screen. "Hey! Everyone is in a house!"

Space and Time

The facilities director met us at the front door of school this morning in disposable gloves and a mask. He apologized for having us sign in and politely requested that we limit our time in the building to no more than 15 minutes.

Heidi needed some materials from her own classroom further down the hall, and so we agreed to meet in mine when she was done.

I was only there to pick up my plants; they could have survived the 4 weeks away that had been announced when we left on March 13, but now that school was canceled for the rest of the year? Well.

When I opened the door to my classroom the sun was shining brightly enough that I didn't bother with the lights. It smelled like a school in there, a mixture of books and chalk and pencil shavings and crayons, maybe. It was a smell I recognized, but not one I expected. My room used to be odorless to me, like the water to a fish.

It didn't take long to pack up the assortment of succulents, cacti, philodendron, orchids, [un]lucky bamboo, and my Douglas Fir and Joshua Tree that I had grown from seed, and so I stood in the unlit room and looked around at the unfamiliar familiar. I have been teaching in that very classroom since 1994, longer than I've lived anywhere in my life, but today I felt my connection to that space fray just a bit.

And then Heidi was at my door, and we headed out into the deserted, but brilliant, spring day beyond.

Same Boat, Different Deck

When asked about her low during their virtual social skills class last week, one of Heidi's students answered, "Being nice."

"Being nice to who?" Heidi questioned. "Your family?"

"Yeah," the little girl sighed.

Her mom, who was sitting at her side, laughed ruefully. "It's been a bit of a challenge," she confirmed.

And of course, they aren't alone. Everywhere you look there are tales and tips of how to survive quarantine with your nearest and dearest without going crazy.

Here at our home, the situation has been quite pleasant, although our cats and dog may disagree. Heidi and are getting along just fine, but after 2 weeks of our undivided attention, our pets may be ready for a break, Lucy especially. That dog must be walking at least 10 miles a day when you add up the morning walk I take her on, the midday walk we all go on, and the early evening walk Heidi takes with a few neighbors and their dogs.

Some of our neighbors seem a little lax on the social distancing. Nobody wants to get sick or infect others, but everyone is creating their own playbook based on personal ideas of acceptable risk.

For example, yesterday afternoon we were returning from a 5 mile stroll through the neighborhood when we crossed paths with 3 women piling out of a car loaded with plants. Together, they had been to a local garden shop-- no social distancing possible on that ride. But we knew that the three of them each live alone, and such a break from complete isolation must seem more than acceptable.

I guess in a time when everyone is struggling, but not with exactly the same issues, the only remedy is empathy.

On the Case

I like puzzles and mysteries, and escape rooms? Are my jam. So I have been curious to check out some of the companies who send you episodic mystery boxes that you and your crew can work together to solve. But, their expense has always seemed a bit prohibitive, and it's been easy to shrug them off as too time consuming to fit my schedule.

Until last week, when I found myself with quite a bit a spare time on my hands and a little too much time to think about things I couldn't solve. That's when I finally placed my order for a murder mystery in six "episodes".

The box arrived earlier this week, but it wasn't until this morning that Heidi and I dug in (mostly because Heidi was holding out for an official "murder board" that we could use to track the suspects and clues. I finally convinced her to just take a look through the evidence, compromising with a stack of index cards, a legal pad, and a small 12x12 bulletin board with some push pins.

Our first job was to identify the murder weapon, using the documents and the link to the online dossier that were in the box. I'm sorry to report that it was a little too easy, although there were several clues and facts and a couple of codes we had to break that will probably come in handy later. At any rate, we emailed our solution and the next box is on the way.

It was enough fun that I looked into another company just to get an idea of their games, and I found that they have a 2 week backlog of orders. I guess great minds think alike.

Round the Clock

There is a pattern to my days. I wake feeling excited and optimistic for all that I will accomplish. I enjoy my coffee, walk the dog, and settle down to connect remotely with my students and then the world. A couple hours later, I'm all caught up-- emails answered, assignments commented on, crossword done, words with friends played, devastating news reports read and digested. And then I feel at loose ends. Some exercise, inside or out, helps a bit, and so does the ukulele, the meditation, the sit ups, and the writing. But I am restless, and all the uncertainties and fears of these difficult times begin to creep in. And it's not until the sun sets, and I am cooking dinner, and looking forward to watching something on TV (just like we did before) that I feel regular again. And a little while later? It's time to get some sleep, so that I'm ready for another day.

Undefined

Heidi was nervous about her first video conference with her social skills students, so I postponed my morning walk with the dog to offer technical support should she need it. My plan was to head out as soon as she was successfully online, but it didn't turn out that way. I was riveted by the joy and excitement in the kids' voices as they connected on the call, and I stood in the kitchen with tears in my eyes listening as they went through their daily routine of highs and lows, sharing their personal trials and triumphs of these last two weeks.

As happy as I was to hear their voices, for the first time since this crisis began I felt a little unmoored.

What is a teacher without a class? 

And They Knew that It Was Much More than a Hunch

I had a virtual meeting with my sixth grade interdisciplinary team today. Nobody told us we should; it just seemed like a good idea. So at 11 AM, I used a free online conferencing service and invited the rest of the team to join my meeting. Once everyone was on, I set my screen to tile view, and nine smiling faces formed a little tic tac toe board. It was for all the world like our own little version of the Brady Bunch opening.

We shared tele-teaching successes and challenges, and started a spreadsheet to keep track of kids who were not doing everything as expected and documenting any outreach to students and families. The Slice of Life writing my students are doing has allowed us to stay connected and it has also given me a window into their daily lives, so I added my colleagues to my learning management course, in case they wanted to check in with the kids, too.

It felt really great to be collaborating again in real time to support our students, and we all agreed to meet again next Wednesday, if not before. We've always been a good, well-functioning team, but these times are bringing us even closer.