Perchance to dream. It was ten days of pre-planning. Collaboration. Unraveling the jumble of emotions. I am a teacher. My soul is encased in a layer of bejeweled ambiance, that shines in the light of classroom life.
I love my classroom. Every year its different. Every year it is a blank canvas ready to be adorned with a little bit of me and a lot of them. Its an arena, where the music of learning hums and echoes. Its my second home.
This year feels strange on so many levels. I decorated and embellished. I organized and designed. I spent time in the motion, of creating a venue unique to the circumstances. Minimal on the walls, desks separated for self-distancing.
My desk the most elaborate of surfaces with mementos of me and my personality. A corner bright and vivacious with stories told through posters, figurines and snow globes. All so my space felt like a comforting place on Zoom.
I have a rubber band ball on my desk. I look at it every day to remind myself that every experience, every optimistic moment I allow myself to embark on, all leads to a colorful gathering of hope and grace.
I put my Russian Nesting Dolls on my desk, a few Inside Out- feeling figurines. I made my desk-top a place of mindful, spirited joy. A place of child-like imagination and wonder. I needed to see the space as magical and whimsical.
Being on Zoom all day long, we are synchronous learning, may seem easier than classroom face to face teaching. It's not. It is more emotionally draining, for me it feels like there are more than just the 12-49 eyes upon me, during class. I see parents lurking, making note of my teaching style.
It is heavy. My voice being broadcast into homes across my district adds a layer of stress. It adds a level of awareness. It sometimes takes me out of the moment.
We have only been in class for three days and I feel a connection with all 195 of my students. I feel less of an urgency to memorize names, for they are literally on the screen, and more a relaxing vibe of asking questions and getting them to open up and share stories about themselves.
Friday was the first time we got to spend just talking for awhile. It was good to see their excitement and imaginations awaken.
On September 8th we will start face to face instruction. 3 of my 6 classes will be in person in my classroom. Each of them 12-15 students only. The other three will remain virtual and they are all around 49 students each. So after the 8th my day will bounce back and forth from face to face and virtual.
Over seventy percent of the students in my school, chose to be virtual learners. So our campus will feel empty once students return. But, I am excited to have some of them returning to brick and mortar learning.
These last few weeks, I have been spending time with my family. Planning and designing virtual lessons. Finding a balance. Just when I feel I have a handle on everything, someone comes down with Covid-19 and the fear of getting sick rekindles and ignites.
Its a whirlwind to say the least. Being in a silent classroom, hearing the bells ring and not hearing students moving about is disheartening. It feels surreal, dream like. Rubber band ball like, ricocheting about in an empty space.
But then seeing them line up in the waiting room and letting them all in to class, gives me a jolt like no other. It is a strange layering of hope and joy, mixed with hesitancy and worry.
I feel more like I am 'on a stage' than ever before. But, students are not the audience, they are present and we are having conversations. We are in the play together. We are learning and getting to know each other. But in a whole different way.
The Zoomtopia way I call it.
Try everything, get up and keep trying new things, even if you fail. You have to pull in new technology and shoot for the moon. Technology is going to fail. Internet is going to go down. The LMS will be slow and will kick students off.
It is the nature of the beast. This microscopic beast that has altered our reality on almost every level imaginable. This beast that constantly reminds us with a roar, that we have to adjust to its temperament.
I am in a new situation. I am in a new classroom forum. I have options and choices. I have to keep things creative and engaging. I have to believe in myself, trust myself. I have to click -admit all- on Zoom and lean in to the volume and beauty of large classes.
I have to trust that everything is going to be alright. That is what mindfulness is all about. I am aware of where my voice is projecting, where my screen is active, where my students are learning- and like a rubber band ball- I have to bounce in the direction, that the situation is unfolding.
This is teaching like no other year, ever. But it is a journey. AND, I like adventures. So here I go into the great unknown, with a map, a detailed path, a lot of imagination and creativity, some music, and an open mind. When my music starts and my waiting room empties- I am present. I am gaining insight and I am showing myself a lot of grace.
This will be a challenging year indeed- but I am bouncing, I am dynamic, I am elastic and stretching myself. With a springiness in my step and resilience in my spirit- I welcome the vigor of another day, week, quarter, semester. I am ready to bounce.
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