As a 4th grade teacher, I (along with educators across the state) have worked tirelessly to implement distance learning since Gov. Gary Herbert’s March 13 announcement of a “soft closure.”
A teacher’s transition to “work from home” looks very different from that of my non-educator friends. In my best moments, I am excited about the challenges ahead. In my not-so-great moments, I panic about students home alone during the day, am anxious about a widening achievement gap and fear the arrival of angst-filled emails from parents stretched to their own breaking point.
As we face school closures at the peak of the academic year, my mind wanders to the “what if” questions looming over us all:
What if this goes on beyond the expected closure timeframe?
What if we don’t get our much-anticipated fun time in May to celebrate the end of the year?
What if Friday, March 13 was — unknowingly — my last in-person day with my class?
With these “what ifs” running through my mind, I fully recognize the day-to-day elements of teaching that I have taken for granted: time with my students and the invaluable support from my fellow educators.
On the day my district was scheduled to distribute devices to students for distance learning, Salt Lake City experienced a 5.7 magnitude earthquake. We were only able to hand out a few devices before being told to evacuate the building and head home. In that short time, I was able to see three of my 27 students, and there are no words to capture how energizing and comforting it felt to see their smiles.
Undoubtedly, educators across the state (and country, and even the world) share the fear that we may not gather with our classes again this year. While we may successfully achieve learning remotely, there is no substitute for the community of a classroom — especially at that magical time toward the end of the year.
I, for one, am wracking my brain with doubt that I did not value that (potential) last Friday enough:
Was I too nitpicky about line rules?
Was I grumpy toward anyone? Did I take the time to make each student feel loved?
Not surprisingly, teachers across the country have rallied to support one another as we drastically change the way we teach. There are countless Facebook groups, Marco Polo chats and video conference meetings happening at all times for educators to share ideas and strategies. Facing a mandate to provide education in a way that lacks the critical factor of human connection among a team of teachers, it can feel isolating and overwhelming to be out of the school building.
Multiple times a day, I find myself missing and concerned for my colleagues:
What would I do without the awe-inspiring community of my fellow educators?
How long is this sustainable for the less tech-savvy educators?
Will this experience be the catalyst to talented educators leaving the profession?
At the time I am writing, my district plans a return to in-person learning on May 4. However, my “what if?” nature has me wondering if that date will be extended and how long it will be before we come together again as a school family.
Despite all of the unnerving unknowns, one thing is for sure: when I am back together with my students and colleagues, I pledge to remind myself daily how much I appreciate them all.
Rachel Wright
Rachel Wright has been teaching elementary school since 2014. She is a Utah Teacher Fellow with the Hope Street Group, working to elevate the voice of educators and work with policymakers to enhance education for Utah’s students. Opinions are her own. Follow her on Twitter at @UtahRach.
