A personal narrative about surviving the world of eLearning from a teacher-parent perspective. My guest blogger, Jeremy Bloyd, is the Career and Technical Education (CTE) teacher at McCutcheon High School in Lafayette, Indiana. His elementary school counterpart, Joni Bratcher, teaches 5th grade at Battle Ground Elementary School. Read what Jeremy and Joni experienced when he volunteered to be the parent reader–and what he took away from the experience that applies to all of us teaching virtual classes.
Our school corporation, comprised of 19 buildings, covers a large and diverse area of the county I live in, and there is undoubtedly demographic uniqueness to each building that creates its own sense of community. Having taught in 5 of these different buildings over the course of my 21 years of teaching, it has been interesting to experience the individuality of these communities and the relationships with colleagues and families that have been created. Currently, a colleague, as well as a friend, is my son’s 5th-grade teacher this year and she and her grade-level colleagues meet with the students through various Google Meets to cover all subject matter and their curricula over the course of the week. I had the opportunity to volunteer for one of those sessions today.
Soon after I finished this morning’s Google Meet for 5th grade literature, my son’s teacher texted:
As anyone knows, the best-laid plans can just as easily go awry as those that are completed “off the cuff,” and that is certainly what happened today. The link to this morning’s Meet was not working for me. After a few emails, some texting, and a live conference call with my son – who had me on speaker so the teacher could hear me through her Google Meet – success was achieved! We were now 5 minutes off the schedule, but as any elementary teacher knows, the show must and will go on.
My volunteer task today was to read aloud as the narrator in the novel selected for literature. This meant the students were not only working on reading and comprehending the text and storyline but also scanning ahead enough to know which character was speaking, and when. Students had been pre-selected to read the dialogue of specific characters, and less than a page into it, our character, David, was MIA! Step back into that scene with me:
The teacher asks, “Where is Xavier?” This is the student who was assigned as David. She laughs with some exasperation and nervousness – because what else do you do? We soon realize that Xavier has gone offline for one reason or another, but is soon back again… without a book! “What page are we on?” he asks. I giggle to myself. Soon the dog walks by and Xavier is now petting the dog because you know, why not? Once again, the teacher reminds the student to get his book and that we are reading chapter 10. In an effort to move on, she tries to assign another student to read as the character David and several hands (in the tiny “Hollywood Square” screens on my monitor) are raised. A student is selected and told to begin, and we wait. Several seconds pass and the teacher shares for the student to continue where I left off. But that was the issue. Where did “he” leave off? Another set-back is taken in stride by this veteran teacher.
We soon begin to delve deeper into the chapter and I am surprised at how well the students know when it is “their” speaking part. Just then, a hiccup. A new speaking part, and a different student who is also having some issues with her dog as she lies on the floor trying to … wait, what are we doing? Oh yes, trying to read! Is that why we are here today? At the request of this young girl, the role has now been reassigned by the teacher to another student, but at this point, I’m trying to not bust out laughing. We continue.
Having not read anything other than chapter 10, I’m still attempting to make sense of what is occurring, but the students are transitioning smoothly. Even amid a parent working from home in the background, likely on a conference call, we work through the text and to the completion of the chapter. The students will take a break from the virtual session and complete some literacy activities and then reconvene a little later this morning. It’s clear the teachers in the group may need more of a break than the students! I am thanked by the class and we end the Meet.
Moments later I get that text from the teacher I mentioned earlier. The rest of her message said, “Aren’t you happy you are at the high school level (insert laughing emoji)?” I chuckled and quickly responded with, “Seniors aren’t much better! I sat for a good 1.5 minutes in silence this morning waiting for a student to answer my question. I was like… ‘I’m here all day folks!’, until I received an answer.” Her response was another laughing emoji.
And now it occurs to me. I’m not sure today’s lesson was really about literature. As educators, our world has been turned upside down. In our struggle to turn our curriculum into meaningful content that is disseminated virtually to our students via Google Classroom, Canvas, or some other learning management platform, the reality is that all of these same distractions occurred during face-to-face instruction. But we, the teachers, had more physical control of the situation–like shutting the door to silence some of the chaos or “slyly” moving about the classroom to help those who need to refocus their attention. While we could more easily see those students who may be struggling to understand based on visual cues, we now wait for tangible evidence that our students did grasp the concept of today’s lesson, albeit virtual cues rather than physical ones.
Face it, teachers, the distractions that occur virtually are just like the distractions that occur in a school building. There’s no doubt we have a student who doesn’t have their literature book out when we are seconds away from being ready to read. And just because “Jessica” isn’t playing with her dog physically, doesn’t mean she isn’t rolling around on the floor with her pup in her memories. Just because our glare doesn’t regain the attention of a wandering mind in the virtual setting doesn’t mean our lessons and time are not worthwhile. They’re just different. We will persevere just like my son’s teacher did today. Just like we (the teachers) did last week during face-to-face instruction. And, just like we will do next week in a virtual classroom the day before a holiday weekend!
As I take my teacher hat off and put on my parent hat, I can tell you that my son hates remote eLearning. Is it because his homebound teachers are not able to be as nurturing and sympathetic? The irony! I know a lot of it has to do with the social interactions he misses too – and rightly so. Regardless of which hat I wear – the parent, the former elementary teacher, or the current high school teacher of seniors in a work-based learning program – I was reminded today that the show always goes on. It’s what we are called to do. It was a reminder to laugh it off or to grin and bear it. Teachers have grit, we persevere, and I believe that students interacting with us virtually versus in-person likely affects our students far less than we think it does. Why? Human nature. We resist change, especially in education, and likely because there are so many things that constantly change and are completely out of our control (Yes, that’s for you, legislators).
For me, I’m actually seeing a more personal side to some of my students. With seniors, you don’t get much more than what you ask for and seldom do we ask our high school students what is going on in their personal lives. It’s not because we don’t care; rather, we lack time. In addition to preparing lessons, posting objectives, setting up for classes or labs, we are now disinfecting seats between classes, monitoring the halls, attempting to find time to run copies, or trying to spare just a moment to use the restroom. Currently, in my virtual classrooms, I can witness more, even if only for a moment as students switch from live video feed to their profile picture.
Again, today was much more than a literacy lesson for me. The take-away for me is that today, right here and now, might be the perfect opportunity to examine what I can do as a teacher, a father, a husband, a family member, and a friend. Teaching amidst a pandemic has brought some of us closer together merely by happenstance. But what if we look at it as an opportunity? What if we view it as a challenge? What if we apply it to the concept of “the ripple effect”? In a world divided by politics, hate, misunderstanding, beliefs, culture, creed, just take the less and be ok, but make more of it.
I’d like to think my ramblings and that “one more example” I share before the bell rings will actually cause a life-changing epiphany. It shouldn’t have taken two degrees to figure out it does not! So instead, perhaps we could engage more, which in return will allow for greater interaction of our audience. Teachers, we are the stone cast into the waters. How will the ripples we create affect those around us, and more specifically, our students?