The Wardrobe Report

September weather is a crapshoot around here, with temperatures bouncing from the 60s to the 80s on any given day. 

It was in the low 60s this morning when I dressed to take the dog out before breakfast. As the two of us jogged down the parking lot in the cool morning air, a neighbor rolled to a stop and waved. "Shorts and long sleeves!" she noted, appraising my outfit. "The season has definitely changed!"

I shrugged and laughed. It was true that I had been wearing tank tops not too many days before.

"But you do have the sleeves pushed up," she noted. "I guess it's supposed to get warmer later, right?'

A Confederacy of Dunces

Like most Americans who were alive on the day, I'll never forget September 11. 2001. I have relived and recounted my experience teaching at a school less than 2 miles from the Pentagon on that day more times than I can remember. New York City bore the brunt of those attacks, for sure, but here in the DMV we were reeling, too. But so was the nation, I think. At least in my memory we were all collectively numb with grief. 

In retrospect, I guess life went on more or less as usual in parts of the country that weren't directly impacted by the attacks and their aftermath, but a lot changed for most of us in the United States that day. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, enhanced security in airports and other high profile public places, a shared feeling of uneasiness, wasn't every American affected somehow? 

The general consensus was that we would do what it took to make sure everyone was safe, and since then, there haven't been any major attacks by foreign entities on US soil. And the event was so pivotal, that nineteen years later, even in the midst of an economy-crushing pandemic,  politicians, journalists, and citizens acknowledged the losses of that day with speeches, 90 second retrospectives and interviews, minutes of silence and shining beams of light to honor the dead.

Unquestionably, September 11, 2001 was a terrible day, but right now, more people than were killed in those attacks die every 3 days of Covid-19 in the US. Yesterday, Canada recorded a day without any deaths from the virus. Americans continue to be divided about what should and should not be properly required of us in order to defeat this latest attack, and we are on target to lose way more than 100 times the lives that were lost 19 years ago.

Why?

Your Word, Not Mine

Blogger keeps switching my blog over to their new and improved interface, always with the note that I can revert to the Legacy style, which I inevitably do within a minute or two.

So far, they haven't convinced me that there is any reason I should leave the familiar comfort of the format I have been using for the however many years since they last updated. It looks different, but I don't see why it's better. Maybe I should look harder? But I have a few more important things occupying my mind and time at the moment.

Oh, I'm sure that this old version won't be available forever; the day will come when I receive a message that there are only so many months until we all must upgrade, and then everything will change over, either by choice or by force.

But really, Blogger? What kind of a legacy is that?

Decompression

 When at last I shut down my computer this afternoon after logging nearly six straight hours of screen time, most of it in-person teaching to a grid of tiny dots filled with my students' initials, I considered crawling over to the couch, pulling my soft, fleecy blanket up over my head, and taking a nap. 

My eyes and brain felt raw and numb, but I knew in my heart that sleeping was probably not the best solution, and it was too early to start drinking, so, despite the pouring rain, I pulled on my boots, popped up my umbrella and went for a three mile walk. 

Back at home, I put the loaf of bread that had been rising since 6:30 in the oven, unzipped my ukulele from its case and strummed and sang for half an hour. Next, it was a 30 minute dance workout, after which I finally started feeling capable of maybe, maybe looking at another screen and start getting ready for tomorrow.

I used to be in the habit of relaxing by staring at my screen, scrolling through news and games and messages and social media posts, but all that has flipped along with my classroom. 

I only hope that my students are taking some breaks, too.

Magic Button

In addition to distance learning and teaching, this year our school has also made a move to block schedule. We did it to parallel the other middle schools in our district, because central office is, prudently, mandating as united a front as possible. Adapting to such a change has been an extra layer of challenge, but it has also allowed us to build in time for students to work away from their screens, which, after only 2 days of online school, I whole-heartedly support.

Having a block means that even though school started yesterday, there were still 2 sections of students to meet today. My first group was a lot like the classes yesterday: a little shy and quiet, but more than willing to follow the presentation and work on the assignment. But the next class was something else all together! From the minute I started the meeting, they were talking... not to me, but to each other. It was kind of refreshing to hear one kid greet another, and there was even good-natured teasing in both the real-time conversation and the chat. And it was almost like being in a rowdy classroom when it was time to start-- I had to raise my voice a little and ask for their attention. Honestly? It made me love them a little bit-- what powerful personalities they must have to shape a group from far away.

It didn't take too long before the students quieted down, and the lesson went well. When it was time for them to work independently on the assignment I had prepared, a student unmuted his mic to ask a question. "Can we talk while we work?"

I was unprepared for the inquiry.

"Uhhh," I started. "That's a good question! In school, I would say yes, as long as you worked quietly, so... I guess so? As long as it's not too loud or distracting."

"Cool!" he said.

But as they worked, the noise coming out of my laptop was loud and disjointed. I couldn't mute my speaker in case someone had a question, so at last, in a bit of tired desperation, I muted all of them. On my screen I watched to see if there was any reaction, but there wasn't. Some kids just kept on talking, sure that everyone else was listening, and others just kept on working. No one complained.

Friends, I am more than ready to return to the classroom as soon as it is safe. I can't wait to meet my students and spend time collaborating with my colleagues in person.

But I can already tell I'm going to miss that "mute all" button!

Distance Learning: Day 1

On the first day of school, a day fraught with so many technical problems that our neighbors were actually interviewed by the local news about their woes, I stood after a tense 5 hours at my desk, stretched my spasming back, and then headed out the door for a quick walk. As I powered through the neighborhood I came upon a man pitching baseballs for his daughter of about 6. "You be the outfield," he directed his son, who was even younger.

"Is this PE?" I laughed as I trotted past.

"You better believe it!" he answered.

Duty-free Lunch

As the ever-earlier late summer darkness fell on this September evening, my thoughts turned to my colleagues. As much time as we've had to process the reality of our situation, how strange it still is to begin a school year away from school! I picked up my phone and sent a quick good luck text to the group that was our team last year.


And so it was agreed. We'll meet and debrief as we always did, although it will be virtually. And I'm not sure how long it will be feasible or useful or desirable to do so, but when I scheduled the meeting, I had it repeat for every week day until the end of the year.

But that's really how our lunches always were-- the door was open to anyone who could make it.