Not With a Bang, But a Whimper

     Today, like most of the school days this year, ended not with a bang, but a whimper. . . 

    The seventh graders are working on a storyboard for a PSA that is meant to teach others about water and why it is so precious. This is a lead-in assignment for the novel, A Long Walk to Water, by Linda Sue Park. The students completed the research last week and gathered their facts, their statistics, and their thoughts. They began the application and synthesizing today. 

And, as they sat with their faces hidden under masks, behind plastic shields, and obstructed by the front of  a ChromeBook, I was struck by the silence, by the isolation, by the aloneness. . . 

Yes, they were focused. 

Yes, they were applying the skills. 

Yes, they were engaged. 

But there was no communication, no chatter, no giggles, no buzz- nothing that would make an outsider peering through the small rectangle on the door realize that this is an English classroom. 

I've come to accept that this the present state of education due to circumstances beyond our control, and with this acceptance, I've come to mourn the past. 

But I question the future: Is this it? 

Will we always be so alone? 

So isolated? 

Islands of ChromeBooks in a sea of emptiness? 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Back to School (again)

     Most my seventh graders are returning to school full time on Monday. I will still have to have a Google Meet running during class because I will still have twenty students who will remain fully remote students.      This is my third first day of school this year.      I am glad that the majority of them are coming back; I have students coming in whom I've not yet met face-to-face, so it will be nice to finally meet them. I think that it will give them a sense of much needed normalcy.      However, I have concerns about the health and safety issues.      Thirty kids in a class is a lot in a normal year. During a pandemic, thirty kids in one room is overwhelming. The buses, hallways, and the cafeterias will be really crowded. We have about one thousand kids in our building. There is no way to put six feet between a thousand kids in the hallway.      It seems that social distancing has gone out the window.     Are masks next? How will mask-wearing be monitored during passing in t
Read more

"The Good Old Days" Inspired by Ralph Fletcher

  “The Good Old Days”  Sometimes I remember  The good old days  Sharing stories late at night With my sister Each in our own twin bed Snuggled deep in our blankets Hers yellow, mine pink We’d giggle in the darkness Surrounded by the silence  Of the house, warm and cozy.  We’d touch hands  In the empty space  Between our beds. I still can’t imagine Anything better than that.                       Inspired by Ralph Fletcher's poem
Read more

Surrender is Not in My Vocabulary

      My dad walked to the mailbox and back today. This may seem unremarkable, but in actuality, this is a milestone.      My dad, a Vietnam Veteran, has severe health issues due to his unknowingly being doused with Agent Orange during his year-long tour in Vietnam in 1968. He's a cancer survivor in end-stage renal failure whose heart functions at only 25%. He's had several heart attacks, nine stents placed in his heart, and two in his leg.      One day in the beginning of December, he mentioned that he wasn't feeling well, and he didn't look too good. His face was gray.  I had to run an errand, but I wasn't comfortable leaving him alone. He insisted that I go, that he was fine. When I came back, he was slumped down in his recliner, gasping for breath. "Call 911,” he rasped, his hand clutching his chest.      The dispatcher directed me to get an aspirin as we waited for the ambulance. He was so weak that he couldn't take it by himself; I had to open his mou
Read more