Day 2: Reflections on a Year of Distance Learning

This time last year teachers were still trying to find their footing with distance learning. We’d been at it for a little over a month, and were just coming to terms with the idea that Covid-19 had abbreviated our in-person school year. When school started in the fall of 2020, some of us would still be needed to continue distance learning as the rest of the staff and the students would ping-pong between different learning models, depending on how the decision makers would determine which was appropriate for the pandemic conditions we were facing. I was one of those distance learning teachers. 

When we started in the fall, it was with some of the same excited optimism that comes with the beginning of any new school year, when it’s all fresh and the new ideas you want to try are bountiful, and you feel ready to take on the world and make a difference for someone. (Of course some of that excitement was tempered by a virus that had already killed hundreds of thousands in our country that was still circulating through the population.) I started with thirty-three students in the first trimester. That number gradually dropped by ten as the year went on. The pandemic evolved, vaccines emerged, and opinions about learning models changed, but my distance learning class ended up sticking it out to the end.

Fall forced a new approach. The district expected more time spent online with face to face instruction and more fidelity to the curriculum than back when we had limped through the spring, when even the almighty state tests were sidelined for a year. Our distance learning team had a lot of talks about the best way to approach all of this. We put together schedules we hoped would comply with all that was expected of us, and began the experience, not knowing if it was going to last a month, or a trimester, or the whole school year. 

The district created a lot of videos for us to use with our online classes. I used a few, but never got comfortable with the idea of posting a link for the kids to click and having that be how they learned. It took the organic moments of spontaneous learning out of the lesson, and frankly, I’ve always seen moments like those to be among my strengths. Besides, how was I supposed to build relationships with students if I was little more than Video Assigning Guy?

For the record, it is absolutely possible to have relationships with students you only interact with through a computer screen, and strong ones at that. The time spent online allowed me to get to know most of my students as well as I would have in the classroom. Unfortunately I can’t say that’s the case for everyone, though. Sadly, there were several who would keep their cameras and microphones off and mostly existed in our class as online avatars. Some of my students I’ll be pressed to remember three years from now, but almost everyone else, especially those who felt comfortable enough in our virtual classroom to display their personalities, I know I’ll remember.

One of my most frequent refrains this year was some version of a speech that went a little like this: “I can’t MAKE you do anything. I can’t make you come to these meetings, or keep your cameras on, or participate in discussions, or complete your assignments, or keep you in from recess if you don’t. I can give you directions that will help you learn. I can answer the questions you have. I can provide you with opportunities to practice the skills you’re developing. I can try to make your work interesting. But I can’t make you do any of it. That’s on you. If you choose to the jobs you have with school, you’ll learn. If you choose not to, you won’t. If you don’t, you won’t be as prepared when you go to middle school next year.”

That speech worked pretty well, too. By the time we reached the third trimester, my assignments had a consistent completion rate of 87%. Not perfect, but pretty darn good for teaching a class separated by dozens of square miles. I had a lot of hard workers who took their learning seriously from the first day, but I also had a lot I had lead to that point over a long six months. Somehow most of us reached a point that helped lead to personal levels of success.

I really believe the emphasis I put on creating and taking advantage of the small moments that presented themselves as opportunities for relationship building made a difference. The ones who took the meaning of my “I can’t make you do anything” speech to heart will walk away in June having experienced a positive year. The ones who lied to their families about the number of meetings they had each day, or how many assignments they needed to do? The ones who avoided the minimal steps toward self-accountability they needed to get through the year successfully? The ones who wouldn’t interact with their classmates or actively participate in their learning, or refused to complete any work until the promise of a family contact was held over their heads? Well, not every student learns the same way. Distance learning might not have been for them. I won’t be able to finish the year without feeling some deficiencies in what I did (usually the case anyway) or without wondering what else I could have tried to get them more engaged than they were and give them a better year. A sad thing about teachers is that when all is said and done, we tend to focus on the ones who didn’t reach their goals instead of the ones who did.

One unusual dynamic about distance learning has been teaching with home in the background. Sure, we get the occasional diapered two-year-old wandering into frame looking for a dance party to join, or the puppy stopping by to pull their best friend away from class because there are toys to be squeaked and balls to be thrown, or homes with phantom fire alarms beeping out low-battery warnings all winter. But when I think of the home dynamic, I’m thinking more about the adults. And I have to refer to them adults: I can’t limit myself to calling them parents, since I’ve witnessed other family members stepping in to support some of my students in the aftermath of Covid, when parents were no longer available.

There are adults who are nothing but supportive and appreciative, which is such a wonderful, invigorating relief because it’s honestly the exception to the rule. Most of the adults have been content to have a talking head on the Chromebook keeping their fifth grader busy with learning, and that’s fine since that’s mostly what school would normally be like. Meanwhile, some adults were in a version of Covid isolation that saw them just offscreen during our meets and auditing everything we were doing, then offering the benefit of real-time criticism through email when they felt it was necessary. On the flip side of that, I also noticed a few students snuggle up together on the couch with their adults when it was time for me to do read-aloud, which I absolutely loved.

You develop a lot of close relationships with people as a teacher. Many of these are with your students and some even with their families. Of course you never really become part of the family, but I think it’s fair to say that you often find yourself becoming family adjacent. Distance learning often enhanced that. I think in most cases, that’s been a positive thing. 

So in conclusion, after spending over a year in a distance learning model: If the teachers are given the resources they need to meet the unusual challenges of the job, as well as the opportunity to plan and collaborate and reasonable time to do so, and the students and families involved are aware of the expectations from the beginning and have agreed to work their best toward maintaining them…then yes, distance learning can be successful. For some students, it probably gives them a better chance for success.

If the conditions were right, I think I’d be okay doing it again. 

Day 1: The Good and the Bad of "The Office"

I’ve been a fan of The Office since it was on the air with original episodes. One year back then, a former teaching partner of mine and I actually exchanged Office desk calendars and wall calendars for Christmas (I got the desk calendar, she got the wall calendar). The summer I adopted my dog, I spent hundreds of hours sitting in the living room watching reruns with him, just so he could learn to get used to my presence and become comfortable in his new home. I listen regularly to the Jenna Fischer/Angela Kinsey re-watch podcast. To this day, it would be the unusual week when I don’t see at least somewhere between five and ten episodes. 

Because of all this, I have strong opinions regarding many things about the show. It’s a great show, but it’s not perfect. Today I’m going to share what I believe to be both the high and low points from the whole series. Now, this is by no means a comprehensive list; I didn’t look up an episode guide and take notes or anything. This is just a compilation of my most immediate go-to opinions, the kind of things I’m ready to argue over with little provocation with anyone willing to go at it with me. 

Bad: Season 1 Michael

In season 1, they were trying too hard to make Michael Scott into an unlikeable Americanized David Brent character, his counterpart from the British version. It was a mistake. The hardest part about getting someone interested in watching The Office now is convincing them to have the stamina to make it through season 1 and that the whole show isn’t like that. Luckily it’s only six episodes. 

Really Bad: Seasons 8 and 9 Andy

Ed Helms had his success with “The Hangover” movies during his run on The Office, which led to him being positioned as a lead character after Steve Carell left the show. It didn’t work. Andy became extremely unlikeable. Ninety percent of the time he was on screen in the last two seasons was draining. His sailboat storyline, his search for fame, his taking over the manager position.… Sure, he had his good moments, but overall? Too much.

Super Bad: Athlead

The storyline at the end of the series with Jim getting a job in sports management in Philly and how it took a toll on Jim and Pam’s marriage? I never bought it. It felt like two of the stars getting a vanity storyline about their characters, and it didn’t work. 

Perfect: Holly

Holly is one of my favorite characters. She rescued Michael, who in his best moments wanted nothing more out of life but to be rescued by a woman who could love him as he was. 

Mildly Annoying: Cartoon Dwight

Anytime a show survives a long run, it runs the risk of the characters becoming exaggerated versions of who they once were earlier on. A perfect example of this was the show Cheers. In The Office, it happened noticeably to characters like Kevin, Meredith, and Kelly, but there were so much superfluous odd moments attached to Dwight and all of the Schrute family traditions he introduced that they seemed to be one-upping each other for basic weirdness.

Empty: Jim and Karen

Jim Halpert and Karen Fillippelli had absolutely no chemistry. There. I said it. 

Puzzling: Inconsistent Michael

Michael ran the risk of being cartoonish throughout the mid-years of the show. His character had a recognizable zone, but occasionally he would veer outside of that into a moment or a storyline that made him seem stupider or smarter or more naive or more competent than we had been told he was. Those moments worked sometimes, but too often they irked me. 

Hilarious: Creed

Darn near every moment Creed was on screen and most of the words he spoke were comedy gold. He gets extra credit for executing what was perhaps the most subtle and best “That’s what she said” of the whole show.

So Unnecessary: Andy and Angela

See “Jim and Karen” above, and increase that point by a factor of ten. It made Andy look stupid and Angela look unredeemable.

Perplexing: Ryan’s Non-Evolution

Characters are supposed to have a developing arc throughout a narrative. Ryan was redefined into some other version of a wild card almost every season, and after he got his corporate job they were all equally obnoxious. I can understand making a character obnoxious for comedic purposes. I just think in his case it was handled poorly.

Good: Clark and Plop

If The Office had continued with a cast centered around Dwight as a manager and characters like Clark, Pete, and Erin taking the place as the anchors, as I believe had been considered as a plan, I’d still be watching it. I thought those guys were some of the best things about the final seasons of the show.

Good: Broken-Hearted Jim

Anyone who has had to ever spend time in close proximity with someone they had feelings for but  but couldn’t act on them has to be able to relate to Jim in the early seasons. For better or worse, it clearly defined who he was and made the audience root for him.

Great: Jo Bennett

Back to what I said about Clark and Plop: If Jo Bennett had stayed on as the CEO in a new iteration of the show, it would have been great. She may be one of my favorite characters out of the whole series. The moment where she introduces herself to the camera crew in the space of a paragraph was one of the best moments of establishing a character I’ve ever seen in any medium.

Smile-Inducing: Jim and Dwight’s friendship

For all the time Jim and Dwight spent in a nemesis-driven relationship, I loved seeing them evolve into good friends in the final seasons. One of my favorite moments of the entire series was in Florida, after Jim had chased a predatory Cathy out of his hotel room and Dwight was hiding from a drunken Nellie. They were sitting together on the bed, just talking and watching TV while eating room service desert. Whenever that episode comes on during an all-day Comedy Central marathon, I’ll watch the whole thing just for that scene.

Great Moment: Ricky Gervais cameo

The moment when David Brent and Michael Scott met up by the elevator outside Dunder Mifflin and immediately recognized themselves in each other was perfect.

Good and Bad: Robert California

He was a positive and a negative for the show. There were things he did that were truly hilarious, especially the cadence of his dialogue (“Have they ever improved on the Oreo?”), but as a character he was sometimes too much, even in the company of the other characters on the show. Plus he always sounds like Ultron.

Really?: Date Mike

In the episode at Dave and Buster’s (or maybe some generic Dave and Buster’s equivalent), when Michael suddenly realized that Jim and Pam were setting him up with one of Pam’s friends, he morphed into a misogynistic creep he called Date Mike. It would have been in his character to have some dating plan at the ready, but to turn into the ultra douche canoe he was here didn’t fit for someone who had an innocent sweetness at the core of who he was.

Home Run: The Finale

Simply put, The Office had one of the best final episodes of any TV show.

So, what did I get wrong? Or what did I overlook?

After

 February was a horrible month this year. It was long, dark, depressing, and deathly polar, to say nothing about how school hadn’t exactly been a ride around the lake. Another February with the kind of stress this one brought and I think it could steal the title of My Least Favorite Month right out from under January.

The nightmarish weeks of deep freeze eventually came to an end though, and soon after it felt like the world began to open. The days warmed quickly. The remaining winter snow gradually faded. Each day brought a few more minutes of blessed sunshine into our lives. Spring and the mental cleanse it promised sat on the horizon, patiently waiting for us to catch up. All of these things together made it seem like maybe it wasn’t completely foolish to entertain the occasional feeling of optimism. 

As the world began to feel more open, society took steps toward opening again for real. President Biden announced that regardless of how many people thought his goal of 100 million doses of Covid vaccine administered during his first 100 days in office was over-reaching, it was achieved some forty days ahead of schedule. Even though the pandemic is far from over and people are still fighting the disease, the media has taken to keeping tallies of how many people have been vaccinated along with the number infected.

Of course all of this optimism comes with knowing there are still contagious new variants circulating through an American population with large pockets of ignorance and entitlement that was never as reasonably cautious as it should have been. The traveling for Spring Break throughout March, amplified by astonishingly irresponsible governors making poor decisions in those destination states, could turn up the heat on all of us again very quickly. 

But what if it doesn’t all go that way? What if, somehow, we’re actually on a Covid decline instead of a weighted pause between surges? What if all of the mitigation and the vaccinations makes not just a difference, but the difference? Could we actually find ourselves back in a world where a new normal will at least approximate the better aspects of the previous normal? 

We will someday, and what comes next when that happens? Will we slip back into the familiar roles and routines we had chosen or been assigned before the pandemic? Will returning to all of that after pausing life for over a year feel like nostalgia? A return to our familiar routines would certainly be a comfort, since the human brain is always seeking out recognizable patterns. But what if there were routines that weren’t working? 

I don’t think society will experience any immediate overall change, at least not anything positive, and I really don’t want to focus on that here anyway. When I think about what comes next, I mostly think about what it will be like to rejoin the world, personally. I have been extremely cautious this past year, and have isolated myself to a degree that I’m certain that many people, particularly the anti-mask crusaders struggling to navigate their personal realities, would ridicule. Right now the idea of taking even tentative steps back into the world leaves me feeling anxious.

One year of my life has gone into developing a proactive and defensive mindset of avoiding other people to minimize the potential they could pass the virus to me. However, the day will eventually come when I’m going to be all vaccinated up. When that happens, I’ll be protected as I can reasonably expect to be. You’d think I’d be pretty pumped up about re-entering society, and picking up where I left off.

I don’t know, though. Do I really want to pick up where I left off? Has there ever been a truer opportunity for people to re-evaluate the direction life is doing than after a time we’ve more or less forced to spend an entire year on the couch? That’s a perspective I keep struggling with. This has been time used up that I won’t get back. One year of my life is gone, out of how many years do I even have left? Ten? Thirty-seven? Five? No one knows.

So what is there to do about it? What parts of my life had evolved into routine, just to fill the empty spaces left by the absence of the things I wish I had, or had pursued, or had the courage to pursue, but instead I accepted the default ease of routine? Once this pause is over, I feel certain there will be a lot of things about life before that won’t be enough anymore.

I think about returning to school, and honestly, I feel like it’s going to be weird. I believe in some respects I’ve been seen as a leader in my building for some time, mostly because I’ve been teaching there since the middle of the Jurassic Period. I don’t know if that will be the same anymore. I don’t mind that so much, but it makes me speculate what will change in how my professional roles will be defined. The people who have worked together through this Covid year will have formed a unique bond because of that; this is an undeniable truth. As strong as that bond will be for all of them, I wasn’t there to be a part of it. There are literally people on our school staff that I’ve never met before. Whenever any of them refer to everything experienced during the Covid year, I’m always going to carry an asterisk related to that because I worked remotely. What will my role be now, for however many years there are left in my career?

So how do I take advantage of this perspective? It’s almost like Ebenezer Scrooge waking on Christmas morning and realizing he’s been gifted a second chance. One thing I know for sure is that once I feel safe enough to enter the world, I sure as hell don’t want to continue molding the couch and recliner cushions to form with my body, and as comfortable and warm as they are, I’m pretty much over sweatpants. What do I want different in my life if I still have the chance and the time and maybe even the motivation to change it? 

I’ve actually started a list on my phone’s Notes app of things I’ll want to do when I can. Some involve the normal, mundane things I’ve been deprived of doing to stay safe. I don’t think a return to the comfort of the familiar is necessarily a bad thing, as long as it isn’t defining. I’ve also listed some things I’d like to do that I think I’d enjoy, or would maybe bring new kinds of happiness to my life. I’ve even added a few things to do that might be considered “bucket list” items. I’ve always said I don’t really have a bucket list so much, but even a tangential proximity to facing mortality makes one realize there are aspects of life that could lead to regret without even trying to experience them. 

It feels like now, in this season just before we can all hopefully exit our bubbles again without worrying about existential threats, is the time to start putting together a conscious idea of what life can be in the after. Then it’s only a matter of waiting until nature determines it’s time to begin.