It almost seems redundant to update the numbers at this point, since they’ve reached into totals so large as to seem intangible: Globally we’re a few hundred people shy of 2.7 million cases, with 737,735 recoveries and 188,437 deaths. In the United States we’re at 882,401 cases, with 81,792 recoveries and 49,885 deaths. Minnesota is thankfully at the lower end of the spread compared to other states; we’re at 2,567 cases, with 1,254 recoveries and 160 deaths. I haven’t included the number of recoveries before, but I’m going to now. I want to keep in mind how the majority of people recover from this, because this past week was when I saw the first people in my life become infected. The helplessness that has been so distant and almost hypothetical up until now became all too tangible in a hurry. It’s been an emotionally overwhelming week. Thankfully though, that has included good with the not as good. I guess even during times like these, life struggles to maintain its fragile balance.
Today was particularly newsworthy in my state. In a move that didn’t really surprise anyone, our governor made the announcement that the state was going to be closing schools to continue with distance learning for the remainder of the school year. Emotions are all over the place in the wake of this eventuality…I almost called it a decision right there, but there really wasn’t anything for him to decide. It was the only logical thing to do.
There are going to be a few kids out there who will be thrilled to be done with traveling back and forth to school for the rest of the academic year (I had one particularly point-missing student refer to distance learning as the “corona break”), but other than those exceptions, this news was met with considerable heartbreak. Students who want to see their friends and their teachers, teachers who want to see their students and their colleagues (friends), seniors who want their rightful turn at the conventions and pageantry that come with ending high school, eighth graders and fifth graders who are losing out on their chance for gaining any closure before they move up to their next school experience.
My gripe here is that I’m giving up not just an entire trimester, but a closure-achieving victory lap of a trimester with one of the best classes I’ve had. I’m not lying to anyone here — I’ve had a favorite class before, just as I’ve had favorite students. Any teacher who claims otherwise likely isn’t being honest with themselves. I loved my favorite class to the degree that there will never be another class that I like more; I’ve always told myself there might be classes that would equal them, but no one would surpass them. This year’s class was the first I’ve probably had since that class that would be their equal. I’m not saying they were perfect; more than a few of them had the capacity to be obnoxious little spitballs. The important thing was they were all good. I had strong relationships with each of them. They had an overall chemistry that worked.
I’m going to miss finding out if that kid who wore the same sweatshirt every day would leave it at home in warmer weather. I won’t see if my trio of artists would ever move on to add any new characters to their repertoire. I won’t get to see the girl who always wanted to argue with me catch herself and raise her hand to be called on before blurting out, because even if she was spoiling for a fight, she maintained respect. I’m not going to see the new glasses one kid was going to get this spring, after wearing glasses that were half-broken for five months. As much as I grew to detest TikTok dancing, I wouldn’t mind seeing a few minutes of it in the back of my classroom while we’re all waiting for the final dismissal bell again. I’d love to argue about whether or not Takis are disgusting (they are). I’ll miss the distinct laughs, the way they’d pair off to play math games and invite people to join them when they saw people looking for partners. I’ll miss the eighty-seven daily random moments that made being with them worth the many varieties of frustration that come with the job. Reading their work and knowing them well enough to tell who actually tries on their assignments and who barely takes the time to pretend they did it right is not the same thing by a mile.
On the bright side though, someone just pointed out to me that one of the enduring legacies of this group will be that I get to remember each of them as people, instead of scores from the MCA tests they never took and whether or not they reached proficiency or met their growth goals.
So there’s that. I can't remember the last time I've been able to make the claim, and that’s no small thing.
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