Dusting off the Ol’ Blog

Here we are again, on the verge of another Hundred Day Challenge. For me, only my second one. For some of you it has become an annual ritual, and for at least one person I know that first Hundred Day Challenge never actually ended. 

Well, Tracey, we’re back to join you for awhile on your never-ending journey. Ready or not, here we come!

One Week In

When I wrote to APS in early July about not returning to our school buildings this fall, the prospect of distance learning was still an abstract eventuality. Two months later, virtual delivery has become the cumbersome reality. 

After only one week, my competence has grown fourfold. Although the learning curve will continue to be steep, at least now I can see my path into the forest with reasonable clarity. I will continue to stumble here and there, but hopefully soon fall into a good rhythm with my co-teaching companions as we wend our way through first quarter.

Work-life balance is a challenge. School-related apps now residing on my personal iPhone include Google Voice, MS Teams, and Outlook. I swore this would never happen, and I tell myself it is only for this year. This one year unlike any other in my twenty years of teaching. If I can survive this year, I say, then the next four will be a breeze! Carving out time to be outside, to garden, to walk or bike each day is crucial. Especially given how much more I am sitting at a desk. In real school I never sit.

My biggest logistical challenge is resetting my body clock so that I get enough sleep. I know my students are still struggling with this too. It’s taking longer this year than most. I’ve had to resort to Melatonin on week nights. 

Fully Engaged

Sent to engage@apsva.us on this day.


Good Morning APS,

As an Arlington teacher, parent and taxpayer, I would like to urge you to revise your reopening plan to 100% distance learning for this fall. 

If we make that commitment now, we can all get to work on planning for a DL experience that far surpasses what we cobbled together at the last minute in the spring. If we plan for both hybrid and DL we will be stretched in two directions, we will be full of anxiety, and we will be less effective at both approaches. It will be a nightmare. 

As an almost 58 year old woman in good health, I would be the only member of my immediate family leaving home for work or school. (Isn’t it telling when even many APS teachers plan to enroll their own kids in the DL option?) My husband, who will be 61, can continue to work from home.

Furthermore, I have only seen my 94 year old mother twice, behind glass, since February. If my strong preference to do DL is ignored and I am summoned into school this fall, I may never see her alive in person again. So not only will many teachers be filled with anxiety, but some of us will also be struggling with grief. While sharing this I also realize that many of our students are already struggling with anxiety, depression or grief.

I am too young to retire. I do not feel done working with middle school students. As an EL Resource teacher I plan to host my own Canvas page for my dually-identified caseload students in order to support the work they are doing in their classes. I believe I can more effectively do this through Canvas Conferencing than in person, given the constraints of social distancing. I believe most teachers will be teaching through iPads even if they are with students in person, because it is going to be too risky to implement the student-centered, small group, cooperative learning techniques that we all know are best for students.

Here’s the crux of the matter: we are seeing the lack of social distancing and mask-wearing INCREASE this summer as the state begins to open back up. Local reports indicate that the bars are crowded, and only 5% of folks on our bike trails (my husband included) are wearing masks as they walk or ride. Yet teachers will be asked to sacrifice themselves more than the citizenry whose children we teach?

Only if we as an entire county can drastically minimize new cases of Covid for at least 14 days running will you find nursing-mother teachers, older teachers, immune-compromised teachers and anxiety or grief ridden teachers ready to step into their classrooms again by this fall. 

There are still too many unanswered questions, for example:

1. Will our preferences for DL be honored even if we ourselves do not meet the standards of medical risk?
2. What happens if I get sick and run through my paid leave? (I am at least part of a two income family. Many teachers are not.) 
3. Will there be any subs at all, or will my on-site role become that of subbing for colleagues while neglecting my own caseload and attendance at IEP meetings as stipulated by the DOJ settlement agreement?
4. Will the School Board continue to meet virtually even as teachers are asked to return to the classroom? And will the central office staff continue to work remotely, too? 

I understand that segments of this community want and need to see a plan that allows their children to return to school. I understand that we as a school system needed to develop such a plan so that stakeholders can see what it looks like. But I sincerely hope that your data collection will show you that the vast majority of parents and teachers are not ready and willing to put their kids or themselves back into a situation that is no safer than the one we pulled out of on March 13th.

Respectfully submitted,
Enid Dunbar

Nailed It

Today was my first mani-pedi in over three months. Janet from Mancini de Paris texted me two weeks ago to lure me back, but I decided to wait until the initial rush died down to go in.

Molly went with me. The salon was quiet and warm. Mancini had the front doors swung wide open, but no A/C on. I asked Janet if the A/C was broken, or if he was just trying to save money. (He is a known cheapskate in the industry.) She wasn’t sure. I almost passed out from the product fumes. But it’s nice to have one more self care item ticked off of my list.

I had to marvel, though, at Mancini’s ingenuity in preparing for the reopening. He had hung shower rods and curtains from the ceiling so that every pedicure station was encased in plastic. Plexiglass shielded client from manicurist, and he’d given up his primo hair cutting station in order to spread out the manicure desks. Still, the shabby chic vibe prevailed.

Despite the heat, the lack of ventilation, and the claustrophobic shower curtain cubbies, I was glad for a bit of pampering. It was also good to see Janet again, on an un-busy Tuesday, and to know that she’s doing alright.

Puzzle Me This

It took one intensely colorful thousand-piece mandala that consumed me for most of two days to lift me over the hump and get me back into reading again.

All the previous jigsaw puzzles laid out on the card table over the past three months were Brian's doing: the Monet painting (1000 pieces), the National Parks poster art (500 pieces), the Oldtime Baseball cards (300 pieces) and the Quest for Knowledge engraving (500 pieces).

Something about climbing that mandala mountain finally fixed my focus enough that I'm now content to put away puzzles and resume reading again. Reading actual books.

My first book is a recently-published friendship memoir written by my cousin's wife who is also a poet and anthologist of Canadian poetry. It's called The Last Goldfish: a True Tale of Friendship by Anita Lahey. I'm already more than halfway through, and all I want to do is devour. I probably should have finished all of my PD before I started reading, because this is what happens (and possibly why I don't read actual books more often). I can't put it down.

Next on my list is The Hate You Give by Angie Thomas. Molly just read it over the weekend within a twelve-hour time span. She's like me in that she will comb the news, read all kinds of articles and feature stories, or anything that she has to read for school, but rarely pick up an actual book. She claims that all those years of high school English, reading dead white guys, killed her appetite for books, especially fiction.

Now that I've been a dedicated Writer for three months, I'm hoping to spend the summer being an avid Reader. But what was it about that puzzle that helped me shift gears?

       

That’s It?

On Tuesday I returned to school to put my SMART Goal folder back in the file drawer and turn in my keys and badge for the summer. The highlight of this quick trip back into the building was seeing a colleague who is retiring.

On Wednesday we said goodbye to our Dolphin students via a two-hour EOY event on MS Teams that included magic tricks, juggling, a scavenger hunt, and an escape room. We led with student slides and closed with a dance party. The students who attended seemed to have a good time.

Yesterday, I joined several colleagues at the bus loop entrance of the school building for several hours to receive and hand out bagged items. Library books and band uniforms were handed back while gym clothes and locker contents were handed out, all through car windows and back seats. This was a strange way to say goodbye to the small number of students and parents who bothered to do the scheduled drive-by.

All that's left is some professional development and a few meetings this coming week, and the 2019-2020 school year is a wrap.

The Cleaning Brigade

For the first time since March 17th, our house is being professionally cleaned this morning. Hermalinda and her crew of two other young women arrived with masks and gloves at the appointed hour. Like cockroaches, we all cleared out of plain sight. My children withdrew to the basement with their breakfasts, I moved upstairs to Brian’s commuting bunker with my Zoom meeting, and he is off on a morning bike ride. If only I had remembered to grab some coffee first. (Listen to me whine!)

It’s not that we couldn’t or didn’t clean the house in the past three months. But we did things piecemeal and somewhat irregularly, never really getting to the bath tubs or the shower. What I love about a cleaning brigade is how they divide, conquer, and leave the entire place in tip-top shape all at once.

When they leave, we step tentatively out of hiding, eyes blinking at the sparkle and shine, noses basking in the lemony-eucalyptus aroma here and the no-nonsense chlorox scent there, ears listening for any last traces of vacuum, buckets or running water to be sure we are not vacating our hidey-holes prematurely. But no, they are really gone and the house is positively pristine!

The first crumbs are always the hardest ones to abide. But by the end of the day our house will begin to look and feel lived in again, and the cleaning brigade will have conquered several more houses in the neighborhood. Money well spent and well earned. Another familiar routine restored, at least for the time being.