Zhāo Cái Jìn Bǎo

Just a little while ago, our 8-year-old neighbor Sofia rang the door bell. Resplendent in red, she wished us a Happy Lunar New Year and offered us some homemade dumplings, which we were thrilled to accept.

"How many would you like?" she asked. "They are very lucky."

"Would 2 each be too many?" we asked.

She paused and gulped. "How about three each?" she offered. "Four is a bad luck number! It's like death!"

We were all too happy to adjust our order, plus? What a great reason to eat even more dumplings!

Expecting

I was just reading the meeting minutes, a friend and colleague texted this afternoon, I see you took your new line about expectations out for a walk.

I couldn't resist! I texted back.

And I couldn't, because sometimes those moments of clarity just have to be shared. As I was explaining the new camera-on policy to my class this morning, one of the students unmuted and asked (off camera), "Are you going to enforce that?"

It was his use of the word "enforce" that made me pause and consider the situation. 

"Well," I answered slowly, "if it was a requirement? I would enforce it. But this is an expectation-- it's your job to live up to it; as a member of our community, you have to enforce it for yourself."

There was silence, and I congratulated myself for finally finding a way to explain what "expectations" mean.

My proud moment was quickly cut short. "What if we don't?" he asked.

"Then your community will be verrrrry disappointed," I answered, leaning into the camera and wiping an imaginary tear.

All of the People None of the Time

"The superintendent is going to announce the return-to-school dates today," I told my students this morning, "so I'll finally get to meet some of you guys in person." 

Our system is opting for a hybrid model with concurrent instruction, so at any given time, 2/3 - 3/4 of the students will still be learning from home while their classmates attend school for 2 days a week. It's going to be a lot to juggle, and there will quite likely be something for everybody to dislike. 

"What about our break?" asked one student today. "How will that work when we're in school? Will we just be allowed to walk around the halls?"

"Your break?" I asked in return.

"Yeah, when we work asynchronously," she clarified.

"Um," I shook my head. "We're not going have those."

"I'm glad I'm staying home!" one of her classmates chimed in.

Shutter Lag

After months of not requiring students to turn their cameras on, last week we received guidance on the latest policy, which is that students are expected and encouraged to turn their cameras on, but not required. Such a shift, midyear, promises to be a hard transition to manage. Even in the early days of distance learning only a small number of middle schoolers chose to turn their cameras on, and that number has definitely dwindled as the days have passed. 

To be honest, as much as I want to see some faces, my some of the sights I've already seen have been far from camera ready. This new policy will require some direct instruction and reminders about expected on screen etiquette, which may be a bit of a hard sell to those students who never wanted their cameras on to begin with. 

Will being onscreen increase engagement? From a certain segment of our learners, probably. I know myself some of the shenanigans and distractions I engage in during this meeting or that, but when my camera's on, I am the very model of attentiveness (if you call staring at my own thumbnail image attentive). Still, a solid majority of my students answer me when I call on them, and I know they are paying attention, even if they are hunkered down on the bottom bunk with hanging sheets and blankets creating a little learning cocoon which may not transfer to the image they want to project to their peers.

Practically speaking, it takes a lot of bandwidth to have your camera on and access the learning management system and whatever other apps might be required, especially if you are using your phone as a hot spot. And for those with whom I would like to check in with more directly, there are always breakout rooms; I can pop a kid in there, have a heart to heart, all the while monitoring the main class on my iPad. In that one-on-one space I often ask for the camera to be turned on, so that our connection is more than just vocal.

For my convenience and ease as a teacher, it would be great to see that expanded Brady Bunch view of every child smiling and looking right at me as I impart all my wisdom, but there is no studio audience and we only have one take to get it right. And so I guess what I'm saying is that I have changed my mind about the kids and the camera-- 

just in time to be on the wrong side of the policy.

Guru

Every weekday morning for the past five weeks I have risen in the dark and crept silently downstairs to join a live stream Kundalini Yoga class. I always make sure to pull the door behind me so that my chanting will not disturb Heidi. The cats are curious about the computer and cushion and candle; they often prowl around as I mindfully breathe and twist, but Lucy is always still upstairs snoozing with Heidi.

But this afternoon when I joined a different live session online, Lucy was awake and ready to join my practice. My prana was her panting; we executed cat-cow shoulder to shoulder, and savasana with dog resting on leg was even more relaxing than usual. 

Oh we didn't actually get to downward dog, but no worries: Lucy is always in the present moment, and it didn't bother her at all.

Sat nam.

The Now

This moment I am in my chair looking at the fire, dinner in the oven, a glass of beer on the table beside me. Today I practiced yoga, baked bread, read a book, coached Annabelle on ratios, and sketched Bulbasaur for a rock I've been requested to paint. All good.

These days at home have been comfortable and restorative in so many ways, but they sure make it hard to find anything new to write about. 

Royal Pain

Does the queen like The Crown? I googled last evening. Admittedly late to the tea party, we have been watching the popular Netflix series about the English royals for a couple of weeks now, and the first season Queen Elizabeth is so smart and likable and sympathetic that I couldn't imagine the real queen could object. I also wondered what it might be like for a person in their 90s to see the life they led when 20-something recreated in such detail.

My research indicated that the queen did indeed like season one quite a bit, although Prince Phillip would have none of it. Later episodes were not quite so appealing to Elizabeth, and word has it that this past season, the one about Charles and Diana is scorned by the whole family, except, of course, Camilla.