Distance (Learning) Makes the Heart Grow Fonder?

It's been two weeks since my anxiety started about Covid-19.  Things are not going well Out There... stores are shut, for the most part, as are restaurants.  There's no place to go and nothing to do once you get there.  It reminds me a lot of Sundays when I was little, when all the stores were closed... too quiet, too still.  You are able to go to the grocery store or to other stores that sell necessities, like WalMart, but with everyone online and in the real world screaming at you to stay the heck home, you feel guilty - and scared - to go there.

Schools are closed, but that doesn't mean we teachers are out of work.  After a short break, we were all informed that we're now doing Distance Learning... teaching via computer.  That instigated a bit of a panic among my colleagues and myself, let me tell you!  HOW are we supposed to teach on a computer????  WHAT are we supposed to use to deliver our lessons????  HOW THE HECK DO YOU USE THESE PROGRAMS WE'VE NEVER BEFORE HEARD OF?????

But, as with many things, that panic eased as we gamely threw ourselves into the breach and started trying to figure out how to do what we were supposed to be doing.  I learned how to Zoom a meeting.  I learned how to Screencastify my lessons, making videos that my students could watch.  I figured out how to effectively navigate Google Classroom - though I have not yet figured out what on EARTH the use of the "stream" is.  Seriously, Google people... get rid of that.  It's bloody useless.

And... much to my own shock... I'm finding that I'm actually enjoying teaching again, for the first time in I don't know how long.  Why?  Darned if I know.  It's definitely not the lack of kids... I really, truly enjoy my students, being with them, giving them their daily dose of knowledge.  I'm not one of those wonderful teachers who is miserably lonely without them, mind you.  But I do enjoy being with them, when I am.

It might be that classroom management is much, much easier.  I'm definitely happier that I don't need to spend so very much of my time hushing one student, telling another to stop eating paper, telling a third to open up to the right page, and then telling that first student to hush again.  I am able to interact, in text, with each and every kid who posts an assignment.  I'm able to answer questions as they come up, and encourage students as they go along.  I'm not expected to pull small groups for instruction while at the same time monitoring the rest of the class, trying to assure that everyone is dutifully engaged in some sort of learning activity - small groups, honestly, are the bane of my teaching existence.  And I don't worry about having an administrator show up unannounced, or having a lesson interrupted by a call from the office, or telling that kid who won't stop yakking to SHUT UP ALREADY (which I can't, but wish I could).

I'm actually working much harder putting together my lessons than I have for many, many years - but it isn't wearing on me the way it usually does.  In fact, I can go for several hours at a clip not really being aware of how much work I'm actually doing.  I'm collaborating with colleagues the way we should ALWAYS be doing, because every one of us is in the same boat that we're building even as we're sailing it.  And as a result, I feel a good deal fonder of my colleagues than I usually do.

I'm not thrilled with the amount of time I'm sitting down.  My body is really feeling that, and I'm not getting out and walking around as much as I know I should.  But... I'm happier than I thought I possibly could be, two weeks ago.  I'm still anxious, yes, but it's not the all-pervasive anxiety that consumed me at the start of this pandemic.  Maybe it's having something productive to do each day - something that vitally needs doing.  Having a task to do is a great way to alleviate anxiety.

All in all, I'd say that thus far, the social distancing and isolation hasn't hit me as hard as I'd been afraid it would.  I hope it stays that way.

The Coronavirus Post

I struggle with anxiety.  I have for most of my life.  In dire situations, however, I'm generally oddly calm.  It's like my brain can only process so much anxiety at a time before it stops processing it altogether.

I wish now was one of those times.

On Thursday night, we got the calls that we'd been dreading but expecting... my son's school district and the district that I teach in were both closing for an undetermined amount of time.  We're thinking two weeks, but nobody knows for sure.

Up until that time, I'd been only half-paying attention to the whole coronavirus thing.  It was something Out There, but not near me.  I was concerned, but not worried.  Not really.  In fact, part of me was feeling that the media was blowing it a bit out of proportion.  After all, the flu killed more people every year than coronavirus did, didn't it?  And nobody was freaking out about THAT.

But now, people in my own profession had deemed that being in school was suddenly Not Safe.  We'd made two weeks' worth of online lessons for our students, "just in case we close."  Unfortunately, we were later told, they would not be sufficient to count as "school days" or as "virtual learning."  We were also told that we need to expect to be in school until June 30... not something any teacher in an un-air-conditioned building wants to hear.  But that's as may be.  Right now, the focus is on keeping our staff and students as far away from disease-transmitting crowds as possible.

This has left me at something of loose ends.  I do not do well with unstructured time.  Even in the summer, when I'm supposed to be resting and recuperating from the school year, I find myself getting twitchy, even anxious, when I don't have enough to occupy my mind.  Cleaning and doing indefinite "stuff around the house" doesn't help.  I don't enjoy it or find any release in it.  Writing, as I've addressed elsewhere on this blog, doesn't always materialize.  Exercise?  Taking a walk?  Don't make me laugh... that never helps, and generally only makes me more miserable.  I tend to fill my time instead by running errands, window shopping, visiting family and friends.

None of which is apparently safe to do in this current situation.

I did go out yesterday to buy a charger for my dying iPad.  I felt... odd.  Exposed.  I fled back to my car with my purchase, shaking.  A friend and I had plans for dinner that night, plans I did not want to break despite my mounting anxiety.  After being excoriated by my younger sister for voicing my fears - to quote, "This is not a vacation!  You do not go out to dinner in the middle of a pandemic!" - I went out anyway.  And fretted almost the entire time.  What, exactly, was I afraid of?  Not of getting the dreaded virus... I don't LIKE the idea of getting sick, not at all, but I'm not really afraid of getting it.

I'm afraid of being trapped at home.

I'm afraid that going out and conducting life as usual is something I am not supposed to be doing, and that thought makes me feel positively claustrophobic.

I love my family, and like my home.  But I don't like spending all my time there.  The "why" of that would take up an entire blog post in itself, so I won't even try to explain... the fact is, I'm happiest with my home when I can get away from it on a regular basis, and then come back.  But if the coronavirus is as bad as I'm beginning to think it is... it's simply not safe to leave the house.  And to do so is a sign of denial or irresponsibility.

And so my anxiety is spiking.

My mother and my best friend both tell me I need to make a schedule for my days out of school, and plan in times to take walks with my son and the dog, time to write, time to work on projects around the house like cleaning out closets and such.  They're probably right.  My younger sister says I just need to tough it out and stay at home.  Another friend says we need to be ordering groceries and household necessities online rather than going out to get them.  They may be right, too.  Do I want to listen to any of them?

Not really.

I just want my life to continue as I'm accustomed to it, without the specter of a deadly virus looming over everything.  I'd say, "Is that so much to ask?" - but right now, it probably is.

So I probably will make the schedule, or at least a to-do list.  And I'll try to stay home as much as I can... and instead of going to stores, I'll see if substituting the dog park and walks with my son will help any.

But am I looking forward to the next few weeks?

Oh, no.

I am certainly not.

50 Precious Words, Take 2

A New Pet

Mama says

NO PET DINOSAURS.

A dinosaur’s too big.

WAY too big!

Where would it sleep?

Not inside!

What would it eat?

Tons of food!

And how about cleaning up dinosaur mess?

You’d need a BULLDOZER, Mama says!

I guess she’s right.

But she didn’t say no

To a dragon!

I think I like this better than last night's attempt... it's more cheerful, for one. While most adults would get the subtle humor of "Writer's Block," I don't think a child would. And I don't like the idea of having a child see writing as work (even if many of them do). So this will probably be my submission for "50 Precious Words." Wish me luck!