Education in the COVID AGE

JAMIE JOHNSON – CAMDEN-FAIRVIEW EA

March 15, 2020 As an educator, I have been accustomed to “change” especially on a moment’s notice. However, I never imagined that when I left school on that Friday before Spring break that I would not be returning for the remainder of the school year. COVID-19 created a “change” for me that I was not prepared for. I am not referring to the technological aspect of it—online instruction-because I was prepared for that. I use blended instruction in my classroom, so my students were ready. I am referring to the emotional aspect of having to endure this pandemic. As the new school year approaches, and active cases and deaths continue to increase, and no “real” plan for safely re-opening schools has been implemented; I feel nothing but fear and anxiety. I along with many of my colleagues voice our concerns yet we feel as if we are not heard. Our voices never seem to matter, although we are the ones taking the greatest risk. I have contemplated several times of leaving the field of education. Why? Because I fear contracting COVID-19 and dying or taking it home to my husband and daughter or even worse giving it to my mother who has major health issues. In addition, I am also at a point where I am questioning just how effective I will be in the classroom this year. That is something I have never done. How do I stay focused and engaged while fearful? How do I stay focused and engaged while I am overly cautious about everything that I touch or hesitating to have close proximity with my students so that I can assist them? How do I stay focused and engaged while I am wondering, as my students take their mask off inside of classroom (which is filled to capacity with students—no social distancing) to eat breakfast, if any of them has COVID-19? Also, I now must sanitize students’ desks/chairs after every class period—adding to my fear. How long will the school district be able to provide gloves for every teacher to sanitize desks/chairs after every class period—more uncertainty. I feel it will be a matter of time before I am required to purchase my own gloves; as with everything else. As a national board certified teacher, I have always gone the extra mile to make sure that my students feel cared for, are engaged, and learning. But I do not know if I can be as effective this year as I have been in the past because I have been put in a position where there are just too many uncertainties. For the first time in 18 years, I am struggling to be excited about the beginning of a new school year; instead all I can do is pray.

ASHLEY KINCANNON – LAKE HAMILTON EDUCATION ASSOCIATION

March 15, 2020 Today, the governor announced he is closing schools. I cannot begin to describe how relieved I am, but I am also concerned. My heart aches for children who depend on school as their safe place. I was once that child, so I understand how important being in school is. I cannot imagine being trapped with my family as a child, and I pray all is okay with my students.

April 6, 2020 The governor closed schools for the remainder of the school year, and I am worried about the uncertainty ahead. I should be on maternity leave, but I am not taking maternity leave. My students need me, and I want to support them. I spent today reaching out to every student in my classroom. I miss them terribly. It’s so surreal to be in the midst of a global pandemic. Tomorrow, I will be welcoming my little baby into this world. Only God can carry us through this.

April 12, 2020 Today, I brought my son to class. My students were excited to meet him. Baby Greg slept through class, but I enjoyed connecting with my students. Seeing their faces and hearing their voices brought me so much happiness.

May 18, 2020 My heart broke a little. Okay, it actually broke a lot. Today was my last class session of the school year. We missed out on so much this school year. I cannot believe we spent the last two months online. I’m praying this pandemic will dissipate, so we can be together again in the classroom.

July 17, 2020 My heart is so heavy tonight as I anticipate the uncertainties of what’s going to come. I’m trying so hard to be positive, but if I’m honest, I’m absolutely terrified. Over the past few months, my family has done nothing but quarantine. We don’t even go into the grocery store. I am so afraid of getting sick and passing this illness to my loved ones. I’m so scared of being separated from my little baby. By going to school, I’m putting him at risk. He’s so little, and I have done everything I can to keep him safe; however, I won’t have as much control when I return to work. I would be broken if he got sick because of me. I’m afraid of sending the girls to school. I don’t want them to get sick! Attending school in a mask as a child won’t be easy. I am worried about the pressure children will be under to balance social distancing and learning simultaneously. I am so sad and worried. It literally brings me to tears. I absolutely love being a teacher. I adore working with my students, and I’m eager to see them. However, I’m concerned because I just don’t have all of the answers. None of us do. What I do know is that our schools are doing the absolute best they can to make going back safe for us all.

July 24, 2020 I have weighed my options and run the scenarios through my head repeatedly. Returning to the classroom is something I have no control over. I trust wholeheartedly my district will do everything they can to keep me and my students safe, but can anyone really prepare for the unknowns we will encounter? What happens when I or my children are exposed to the virus? What about my little baby? Will we put him at risk? I cannot accurately describe what is going through my mind. Today, I made a very difficult decision. Although I do not have a choice about returning to campus, I do have a choice about bringing my daughters to campus. They will not be returning for onsite instruction. I would rather be the only person who is at risk of getting sick. At least I will know the girls are safe. I will do everything I can to keep from bringing this virus home.

August 1, 2020 I cried today because I went to my classroom to prepare for the school year. My heart crumbled as I arranged my classroom. Normally, my classroom is collaborative. Students often work together, and they can always ask a peer or me for help. Today, I had to spread my tables out. Only one child will be sitting per table. Their closest neighbor will be six feet away. I wish I could find the words to describe the horror I felt as I surveyed my classroom. How am I going to teach in this environment? How will I help my students and encourage them through the ups and downs of learning? I am scared of returning. Although I am scared of what is to come, I will press on and face whatever is ahead. We will get through this somehow.

CORRIE TUCKER – SPRINGDALE EA PRESIDENT

This week, teachers will be reporting to schools to participate in professional development, prepare lessons, organize, and set up their classrooms in preparation for onsite instruction in two weeks. The beginning of the school year is normally the most exciting time of the year for me and for many other teachers as well. After having the summer break to reset our brains, we return excited and refreshed. Excited to meet our new students, to see our co-workers again, to share new ideas we have researched over the summer, to try new teaching strategies, and excited for a fresh start! I am excited for a new school year; however, this year my excitement is overshadowed by FEAR and FRUSTRATION. I am afraid for my students, for their families, and for our community as teachers and students in Arkansas return to classrooms unprepared for teaching during a pandemic and ill-equipped without the appropriate PPE necessary to stay safe.

As the year ended with AMI days last year, educators were praised for rising to the occasion. We created online lessons with no training, strengthened our relationships with students and their families, met with students daily, had one-on-one conferences with students to help them in areas of weakness or to provide enrichment, and stayed in touch with them on a regular basis. We provided meals for our students and their families who were impacted by this virus, provided monetary donations and support for those who were evicted when their parents were laid off work or quarantined, dropped off books and supplies for our students who were without, and stayed in touch to offer our support. Now, we are being asked to return to the front lines with fewer rights than we had when this pandemic started and with limited protection. Teachers sacrifice so much each day for their students. We knew when we became teachers we would be giving a lot of ourselves. We sacrifice time with our families to plan lessons and learning activities, to attend school events, to have conferences with parents, and to respond to their phone calls, text, and emails. Now, we are being asked to sacrifice our lives and, potentially, the lives of our family members. We are being asked to go into an environment that is unsafe and to, somehow, keep our students safe in this environment. I wonder when the shift happened. When did the praise and

appreciation for teachers turn into a lack of respect for our lives? When did people stop caring about teachers? Why is our economy dependent upon an institution and a group of people that have been underfunded for so many years? One would think it would be quite the opposite. Today, I will enter my classroom. I’ll begin the process of attempting to space my 25 first graders’ desks 6 feet apart—an impossible task. I’ll have a full class, even though our school has offered virtual and blended learning options and has lost many students who are homeschooling. I’ll remove the unnecessary furniture—our cozy writing table and chairs in the writing center, our author’s chairs, our bean bags in our fun reading corner, and some of the shelves containing our carefully curated classroom library books—to attempt to provide a safe environment where my students can work and learn. I’ll purchase more masks for myself and for my students, and I’ll look for cleaning supplies and hand sanitizer to purchase for them once again. I will be excited to meet my new class of students on the first day of school. I know they will be excited to meet me as well. I genuinely look forward to seeing their eyes twinkle with anticipation, even though their smiles cannot be seen under their masks. I will nurture them, and I will do my best to teach them this year, as will all Arkansas educators. Public school teachers across the state will rise to the occasion, despite their fears and their frustrations, because that is what we do. We teach our students. With that being said, we will also continue to advocate for them as well because we know that as things stand we are NOT prepared to reopen schools safely for our students, for ourselves, and for our communities.