What your teacher will never tell you about this school year...

They say difficult times happen to strengthen you. Today is the end of one WILD ride. Virtually teaching you this year was by far the hardest, most difficult, exhausting and wacky task EVER placed upon me. There! I said it! And you need to hear why. 

It all started in September... 

There you were, all sitting at your desks, excited about your first day of school, with your fresh haircuts, playing around with your new tablets, and laptops... YES! I was excited to see you, NEW tiny humans, but I did not know who you were, or how to honestly do this new thing we needed to do... this virtual teaching.

When the pandemic started, it was chaotic, I can't deny it, but at least I had my not-so-tiny students figured out by then. But not you. YOU WERE ALL NEW, you had your expectations and hopes for the new school year. And there I was filled with anxiety and fear I would not meet them and hoping you would not notice it. 

Teachers, you see, we were NOT taught to teach this way. 

We were taught that teaching implied welcoming living humans with a smile into our classroom, playing games, clapping, being loud, singing along crazy songs, painting, drawing, and jumping around in costumes or wearing funny wigs. 

We were taught to read al sitting in a circle on the carpet, to write stories on a chart pad with our students on the floor, to think and discuss and build things, and play music to sing along, and analyze texts and do all the hard math problems in a million ways, and make experiments and blow things up (if you are that kind of dangerous teacher) 

We were taught to listen to your funny stories and to try to make sense of them, to give hugs when you were sad, or advice when you required it. We were taught to teach you with love.

We were NOT taught to talk to screens, to empty rooms, and hear the echoes of our own voices in the classrooms.

Teaching you this year was hard, and sad, and made us cry more than once. 

But you were there, on the other side of the screens, showing your pets, eating your breakfasts, playing video games and TikToks (Yeah, we know), and every day you were there. and you were happy and learning! Most of you could not get out of your houses, or see your friends, or lost family members, or moved to a different city, or a different country. But regardless, there you were! Ready to learn...

...and that was my gasoline throughout the whole virtual process.

Watching the impossible happen was a miracle. We needed to adapt and figure out how to do the jumping, and singing, writing, and storytelling. Teach vowel sounds and phonographs, and prefixes and suffixes, and mathematical concepts, problem-solving, Pre-calculus, Algebra. Still do our read-aloud sessions, and make experiments, and research papers... 

And somehow, we did. 

Sometimes it was very hard to teach you. You seemed like you were not there. Your camera was off and sometimes your microphone was off too. Those were the times when we wanted teleporters to be real... we did not know if you were ok, or if you were even learning. We called you but heard no answers. We know sometimes was hard to be exposed with a camera on your face all the time, but that was our only way of knowing if you were ok. 

We - your teachers- love to help, and sometimes, we couldn't.

A ray of sunshine hit us all when you started coming back to school. I never thought I would miss the horrendous sound of backpacks dragged up the stairs, but it teared up my eyes the first time I heard it after the pandemic. 

Meeting you in person was the best! It was like when you meet your favorite artist. You've watched him on the TV and videos for so long that when you see him you say "Wow, HE IS A REAL HUMAN!"

And we got to see that part of you that was hidden from us, that part we could not figure out through the screens. The type of music you liked, your sense of style, that you liked Doritos (just like me!), that you had a million questions to ask about when I was a kid, that you liked to randomly climb trees, or made little jumps when you walked, or that you were lonely. 
Teachers, we do this because it matters. Every year we put our very best expertise, our brains, hearts and souls so that you can learn, and become better tiny humans. And every year, we receive back that kind of love.  

Not this year. NOT A SINGLE HUG WAS GIVEN. 

But that's COVID to blame. 

Not hugging you was the hardest thing I ever had to do. 

Honest. 

Anyway, you DO owe me all the hugs when all this is over.  I will start collecting, you will see. 

Now that it is the end of the school year, I have one last thing to say to all of you: THANK YOU.

Thank you because you showed up, on time, and did your best. 

Thank you for not giving up on me- even when my class was terrible or I could not help you as quick as you needed me to.

Thank you for your kind words, your disposition and your honesty. 

Thank you for the random stories and comments. 

Thank you for muting yourselves so I would not need to do it, and taking turns to speak.

Thank you for helping me navigate this virtual madness with you, and being patient with me when Zoom did not open, or the internet did not work, or my computer went crazy (and for teaching me to share the screen with audio- that was awesome!)

Thank you for the love and learning we shared this year.

Thank you for teaching me how to be a virtual teacher. 

It was difficult, but you made it memorable. 

I will miss you, tiny humans!

 

"Be strong, because things will get better. 

It might be stormy now, but it can't rain forever"

Evan Carmichael

PS. FACT: When this is all over, I know teachers will miss the MUTE ALL button.  ;)

Written by Mrs, Marial Valenzuela

5th Grade Teacher

Head Librarian @ MCS