Bailing the Titanic with a Bucket?

The more we learn about transmission, and the more the numbers rise in general, and in schools- 20 at last count in Manitoba, the more it seems we are bailing the Titanic with a bucket. I should say, as I often do in my classroom, that I would be very happy to be wrong, but it seems we are on course to hit an iceberg, and no one is considering changing the direction of the ship, by reducing class sizes and the number of students in schools at one time for the health and well-being of our students on all levels, as well as the community at large.

As each day passes at school, I am struck by how much has changed in so many little ways, so many detrimental ways. While we might be achieving something close to a sense of academic normalcy, if we cut out every social aspect of school, is it actually beneficial to students? Is sucking all the joy out of being at school really good for the health and well-being of student? Does the good outweigh the harm?

Especially if are the efforts to keep students safe are useless when there are still simply too many students in each classroom to maintain social distancing, or model social distancing, or transfer necessity or importance of social distancing to our students. There are also too many students in the school to maintain the concepts of cohorts. Even though everyone is wearing masks just about all the time, I am still not certain it really matters, especially when I consider the time, effort, energy, and loss. 

My classroom is the third of six portable classrooms, all built along a long platform with a ramp in the middle and stairs on both ends just outside the back of the school. In the past one of the custodians would have opened the door so students don't have to wait outside, but now our school's doors aren't opened until 8:30, and my door gets opened when I get there, usually around that time, give or take a few minutes. 

Most days when I arrive some of my students are waiting by my door, and there are always students standing along the platform in front of their classrooms, or waiting by the back of the school. Seeing kids outside first thing in the morning, especially on warm days when the sign is shining, is usually one of the best moments of the day. 

Arriving at school and greeting students, whether they are my former gr. 7's in front of their grade 8 classrooms, or other students I don't know well playing outside, is where find my energy for the day. Either kids are equally happy to see me and reciprocate some excitement for the day ahead, or they are grumpy and moody, which is generally the result of being on a device until late in the night, and often makes for interesting chats, and entertaining exchanges, or at least looks, to start the day.

Even outside first thing in the morning students have pretty much adjusted to masks, and for the most part, there are few reminders needed. On the other hand, there is only one door, and I have to remind students not to crowd it, or each other, just about every morning. 

In a way crowd control is no big deal and regular part of the job; these days, it is an added layer that drains my energy.

At some point between arriving in my classroom and beginning the morning at 9, I generally go into the building. I check the staffroom, my mailbox, pick up the bagged breakfasts for kids who need them, because we can't have a drop-in breakfast program anymore, do whatever else I may need to in the building, and then I go back out to my classroom.

In the past, one of the signature trademarks of our school was students would jump to open the door for whoever happened to be there. Kids were always ready to help and now there is no opportunity to do so. Kids also had the freedom to move around and see their friends in communal places and engage in meaningful social interactions with their friends and other adults as their day began. 

Now there are no communal spaces. Students do not have the freedom to partake in programs, eat the breakfast of their choice, go to the library, play in the gym, or be in other spaces that belong to them. They are doing the best they can, especially considering all they have lost. 

And they are still meeting their friends. Before and after school, they are on the basketball courts, bikes, or at the park. It is better they are outside than inside, but there is little to no social distancing. I can certainly understand why students have a hard time understanding social distancing when there is still no way we can actually achieve and practice it in the classroom. How can they learn when we can't teach them? 

To me it was inevitable, and to think they are not meeting is to imagine they are not kids.  

And so, or perhaps still, just about every day, I ask them to spread out, especially around the one door through which people have to enter and exit, because I can't walk by and say nothing when kids are all crowded together. It is not a big deal and comes as a reminder or a request, but it is another thing. It is also not a request I ever thought I would make in a building where I rarely had to open a door for myself.  

It is also heartbreaking, and then eventually becomes annoying, to tell friends from other classes that they have to move to their space, and away from my students, their friends, because those are the rules we have to follow right now. I do this in the morning, even when I know it is an exercise in futility. If they don't find each other again during the day, they will spend time after school, and to be frank, if spit is the only body fluid they are exchanging then I am very relieved.

I don't know if I have achieved the description needed to explain the subtly of the shift in moments at school. I guess it is the fact that there is no escaping the pandemic and how it has permeated every aspect of school life from the moment I arrive in the morning well before the school day has actually begun. 

There is so much potential for change. Apparently money is finally being released and with creative use of resources and spaces, we could create safe learning spaces for K-8 students where they can actually see, understand, and learn social distancing, especially as it seems we are going to need if for some time. I want to be optimistic but I am not too hopeful.

In the meantime, I continue to do my best and show up for my students. They really are an awesome bunch and the reason I do the job. It is for them I am a concerned as I observe all the bodies in the room. I wonder where we are heading and at what cost? 

What have we already lost and what is ahead? 

I have to hope that I am wrong.

I have to hope that we really aren't bailing the Titanic with bucket, or even worse a spoon.