Monday.
March 9, 2020.
"I'm not afraid. Germs are good. Germs build immunity. I'm going to live my life. This is all over hype and silly."
Thursday.
March 12, 2020.
7pm.
We get the call that our schools will be closed for two weeks due to Covid-19.
I didn't sleep much that night. I'm a kindergarten teacher. I LOVE my job. I LOVE my kids. This is not a snow vacation. This is not a spring break or summer vacation. I immediately looked up digital learning and signed up for a zoom account. I sent parents a message that I was determined to still teach.
The show WILL go on! Just differently.
Friday.
March 13, 2020.
Surreal. Twilight zone. I started my morning explaining to 27 five year olds that we would not be physically in school for a few weeks. I explained that we would have school on our computers and would still get to talk and see each other, just in a different way. Some cried. Some were excited. I didn't go into detail as to the details or seriousness of Covid-19. I just said that there was a virus going around and we just didn't want to get sick. I also explained this is why we don't need to touch our faces and why we are washing our hands more than usual.
And then, they carried on with their day. I tested sight words, did lessons, the students did activities.
And in between all of that I prepared. I made math packets for the students to take home. We've worked SO hard to learn these topics, I can't bear for them to forget.
I racked my brain with things they might need, while teaching. While not instilling the stress I had on them. Smiling, laughing, and hugging. My brain was still going 90 miles a minutes.
Pencils. Maybe they need pencils? Crayons...maybe they need crayons? I bagged up crayons, and pencils for all 27 kids. I didn't send glue or scissors, but now I'm wishing that I did.
This is new territory. Nobody knows what they are doing. Throughout Friday, I said, "next time there's a crisis, I'll do this." I hope there isn't a next time.
I wanted to keep my class just a bit longer Friday afternoon. We took one last class selfie. I hugged them, told them I loved them and said, "see ya later!" Some cried out. My heart was breaking.
School is our safe place. School is our happy place. And we walked out Friday for the last time for quite a while. For some, this is the structure to their day. For some, this is the place things can be calm. What will they do? As teachers, we worry. We care. We love. We miss.
I stayed at school until about 5pm Friday. I gathered things I would need to work from home. And as I shut the lights out in room 12, I couldn't help but wonder when the next time I would have all 27 of my kiddos back in one room again?
I am starting to believe and agree that we need to do this to minimize a problem. I hope that we are over-reacting, but as one quote said, we won't know. One day, maybe we can look back and talk about the time we over-reacted.
Present time.
March 15, 2020
Sunday 11:08pm.
I've spent a majority of my weekend, like other teachers across the nation. I've planned content. I've shared websites. You can see on social media so many educators coming together for one cause. The students. The children. They deserve it. The children are our future, and they deserve nothing but the best.
I got to visit with 7 of my students tonight as we did a trial run of our digital content. It made my weekend. It also made me see that maybe, just maybe this will all work out.
To the momma who begins, "homeschooling," tomorrow: If you need anything, reach out.
Tomorrow: I become a digital teacher. I've never done this before. Tomorrow, I will teach two times a day, to accommodate the needs of my parents. I'm nervous. I'm excited. I don't think I'll sleep tonight. It's almost like first day jitters.
We will get through this. So many educators that I know and so many of my friends are busy making some lemonade out of lemons.
Now is our time to shine. We will overcome! <3
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