COVID 19 - How have things changed?

Truly,
I should be writing more in this blog, during this new normal.

My teaching days are now filled to the brim with new experiences - working through technical challenges to produce some clunky video for preschoolers, having virtual meetings with colleagues, FaceTime conversations with families and preschoolers, on and on. It's all new, and I think I am still trying to find my footing.

It feels as if the world is trying to find its footing.

So here we all are, figuring this out as we go.

Something kind of sweet though - we are building stronger connections with families. We are having rich one-on-one conversations on a regular basis, striving to be in contact at least twice a week. Each of us on the teaching team is taking turns to chat with families, and we share these stories with one another. This brings me great joy! I am particularly fond of FaceTime and the ability to see children's faces...I know it helps the preschoolers, too, to see mine (though, geez, I am shocked by how I look, every single time that camera pops on). I delight in preschooler's use of FaceTime - I have seen so many ceilings!

My friend Hannah's home routine for her preschooler

My role as teacher has changed. I find I am listener, supporter, and counselor, shoring up the family. I am touched by the confidences that have been shared - families needing to vent, to hope, to understand, seeking insight, perspective, affirmation, or just an ear. Over and over again, I am awed by the strength, wisdom, and love of all these families, how they are meeting the demands of this wild new time. We are a resilient species, we human beings.

It is perhaps not surprising that each family is succeeding a little differently from one another, no two alike. Couples are finding new work-life rhythms, these were made up on the fly and continue to be re-adjusted. Children have clear routines, no routines, and somewhere-in-the-middle routines; everyone is finding out what works best for them. I try to share what we did in school, just to let families know of what was once possible...in a very different setting.

Things are always going to be different at home.

sol17-14 How is change good?

I am participating in the
Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC).
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day of March 2017. 

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

My morning alarm went off as usual, and I immediately checked my phone for a message. Just like I feared - the promised big snow fizzled into an icy slush, bringing a confusion of school closings and delays. My Maryland neighborhood schools were closed. However, the Washington, D.C. school where I teach had a two-hour delay. Ugh. Gotta get ready for the slog of a commute. Note to self: find ways to make it better, to be grateful, to see the wonder. I reset the alarm for a little later and went back to sleep.

This small delight didn't last terribly long. I couldn't stop thinking about all the extra things that needed doing. My husband is out of town for a few days...I would need to shovel the driveway, I would need to scrape off the car. I got out of bed, made myself a cup of hot tea, and surveyed the scene outside.

I shoveled the snow right away, before breakfast, before reading the newspaper. Two inches of heavy back-breaking icy slush. It looked like nothing but weighed a ton. Note to self: focus on the beauty of the snowy trees and shrubs, how quiet everything is outside, how beautiful. I found a thick coat of ice on my car. Sorry, this is not beautiful. Ugh. I decided that it was wiser to take the bus this morning. Note to self: see, you have options! How lucky! I packed my backpack with spare slip-ons and a yummy lunch, I bundled up in my warm "ski" hat, gloves, and snow boots. Out the door! Here goes!

There was no one on the roads. No one. Ugh! They were all sleeping in!!! Even the Federal Government received a three-hour delayed start. I was all alone. I was the only one awake. I was the only one who was miserable. Ugh: the roads are unplowed. I had to trudge through this icy, wet stuff. Note to self: hey, isn't this fun? You are walking the center of streets to the bus stop - how often do you get to do that?

Walking. Walking. Walking. Bus stop. My husband sends me a love message from warm, sunny Arizona.  Ice pellets rain down on me. I wait for the bus. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Are the busses running? How do I know if the busses are running? What was my backup plan? Did I need a backup plan? I waited. From behind me, I heard laughter - a boy of about 8 or 10 years of age was rolling around in the snow in his front yard, which made me smile. Ahh, that is how this day should have begun. Wistful. Sad. Lonely. Note to self, note to self, note to self? What to feel grateful for? What can I think of?

Unbelievably, a lone car pulls out of a neighboring road and then it stopped in front of me. The driver rolled down the window and called out - "Are you headed to the metro? Would you like a ride? I'm not sure the busses are running." Yes! A woman picked me up at my bus stop. An angel named Ingrid. She didn't know me and I didn't know her. I am truly grateful. 

Truly, from this moment on, the day became lighter. I was challenged from the get go, but I worked on focusing on the positive and letting in the joy. Now, looking back on the day, I am realizing it can be good if not invigorating when our normal 'rules' and routines get bent or downright broken. It makes you look at the world with new eyes.

Just today,

• I accepted a ride from a stranger, and met a neighbor, learning quickly that we had people and things in common. 
• When I got off the metro, I found my path to school thick with the same icy sludge that I shoveled back home...I walked with my feet pointing out, I walked with my feet pointing in, just like Peter in The Snowy Day. 
• Only half my students attended school today and I felt as though I engaged and connected with every one of them; also, missing many of their classmates, I watched the children play together in new ways.
• I brought snow in from outside for the children to explore and they kept their mittens on to make snowballs and snow muffins. 
• We slowed our schedule down, had a leisurely lunch with lots of good conversation, put the children down for their nap a little later, and all was well. 

Turn around, the day was over.

Change: challenging, provocative, daring, trusting, silly, looser, happier.

Tuesday SOL How much can you change?

This is a Tuesday Slice of Life for Two Writing Teachers. 

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.

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My Teaching Resident worked with a small group of students to race cars in the hallway today, using this profound interest of theirs to cultivate curiosity and understanding about measuring distance.  This lesson was my idea, and one that was unsettling to her.  Her own educational experience has been far more traditional - teacher-led instruction, much memorization of facts, working at tables. This idea - learning math by racing cars? - was a huge, amazing step for her. 

I have been searching for ways for her to more fully experience children driving their own learning. (No pun intended! Well, maybe it was.)

She watches/observes me, but, ultimately, the best learning is experiential - "letting go" in a lesson of your own.

Her mentor observed as she worked, giving her feedback in between small groups…there was no need for me to be there, too.

I was able to get a small glimpse from my classroom window that peeks into the hallway:

I was so tempted to be out there with them,
to hear the children's enthusiasm,
to see their engagement,
to watch the fun. 

A teacher friend says her principal insists "Don't expect any radical changes - one's teaching style can only be changed about ten percent in any given year… and that's when the teacher has a strong desire to make the change."

I wonder about change.

How much can you change your very instincts?

How can you do something that is so different from how you yourself learned? 

How do you find the courage to attempt something all new?

I suspect my Teaching Resident is often in a state of disequilibrium.

I am watching her change so, so, so much more than ten percent.

Today, I saw a huge smile come over her face,
seeing children race down the hall after their cars,
intent on measuring how far the vehicles had gone.

Here's the note that she shared with families about the experience:

The Big Cats tested cars to see which ones could go the furthest. Children were introduced to the concept of measurement and comparison from this activity. Once the car raced down the ramp and stopped, children used a piece of tape to mark where the car stopped and compared the distance with each other to see which car went further. Also, we talked about how we could adjust the 'slope' of the ramp to make the car go even further. We used different types of measurements including yardsticks and big blocks to measure the distance. The Big Cats practiced counting, measuring, and following directions.

It is extraordinary to watch her metamorphosis.