Sunday, October 25, 2020

Just When I Thought Things Might Be Okay, CODE ORANGE

Time passes so quickly and I appreciate the concern from those who have missed my voice. While I was occupied with another professional piece, and busy with classroom life and the daily routine, I was also waiting things out.

In the middle of October, just about 10 days ago, the first case was announced in our school. One classroom cohort, the learning support teacher connected to it, as well as its two EAs, went into isolation for a week. Before I wrote anything, especially in panic or alarm, I wanted to see what would happen. 

Public health determined the case was not contracted at school. The class and close contacts were in quarantine, and while I was skeptical, I also recognized I don't know much about contact tracing. I wanted to reserve judgement, because while the process appears to discount secondary and tertiary contacts, tracing may actually come down to precision in time and place. 

The week passed quickly, with life in the classroom different but the same (more details to come, if not in this blog then in the future), and things seemed to be going okay, with the masks working as they should. 

The day the case in our school was announced a bunch of kids stayed home, around 180 in a population of about 500 students, and because that happened on a Thursday, many parents kept them home for the Friday too, but by Monday most kids in the school were back. 

In my two classes, there are some attendance challenges that are augmented, but not caused by the current pandemic, especially in my homeroom, but less than a handful of students have requested remote learning due to medical reasons, with two, out of 46, making the switch this past week. For the most part it is clear my students want to be in school.

On Thursday, just before the big CODE ORANGE announcement I was ready to be cautiously optimistic and gaining confidence in the efficacy of the masks, and the reasonable safety in my school, even though it remains physically impossible to social distance with class sizes of 20-25 students. I was already reflecting on the blog I would write.

That same morning I also ran into a colleague who had been away during the week. I learned the teacher's absence was directed by public health and they had quarantined as a student in their class was home as well. The student was exposed to a family member and had received an positive result though they were asymptomatic. Apparently the child had been isolating at the right time and the case was deemed low risk. Only the teacher was sent home and not the whole class. 

The teacher tested negative and was back at work when we spoke and I learned of the situation, even though her classroom is right next door to mine. Hearing her story served to simultaneously augment my worry that there are a high number of potentially asymptomatic children carrying the virus without knowing they have been exposed, as this family did, and increasing community spread that then cannot be linked directly back to school, and yet still provided some reassurance that the system, and the masks, are working.

Even as a second case was announced, and that class shifted to remote learning that afternoon, the same day the first class came back healthy and well, just hours before the CODE ORANGE announcements, my trust in our ability to be safe and healthy in schools had begun to stabilize. I was beginning to believe in the leaders in government, who had disregarded the many pleas of educator, actually knew more than we realized and may have actually been right sending everybody back to school. 

I was beginning to find comfort in the community, and learning routines, including those around health and hygiene, that we have spent the last 8 weeks establishing, and finally felt we had a strong foundation for the year ahead, or at least until the weather got really bad.

And then the province, with ridiculously high numbers, and the clear and essential need to move to CODE ORANGE, put out a series of mandates, which essentially amount to meaningless words with no clear direction, support, or indication that there will be the distribution of funds needed, promised some time ago, to support their intentions. 

In the end, the CODE ORANGE measures amount to only one clear fact- whoever is mandating the policies on education has never spent five minutes in the classroom. The powers that be clearly have no understanding of children, learning, classroom life, the job of a teacher, or the resources required to facilitate a meaningful, relevant, and safe education, which is the right of each child sitting in our classrooms. And what is even more evident is that they simply don't care.

From what I have read in my teacher forums and groups, the response to the most recent decree to "ensure two meters of physical distance to "the greatest extent" possible" has been extremely different depending on the school and the division. 

Some schools have made immediate and drastic changes, stripping schools and classrooms of libraries, learning spaces of furniture, and removing manipulatives and materials, as though simply sitting in a chair all day is enough to facilitate learning and engage a child in meaningful education. 

In some schools and divisions the word "must" was the catalyst to repurpose music spaces, gyms, and libraries, and their educators, as though all our expertise is interchangeable- a teacher is a teacher. Can you imagine asking a cardiologist to become a pediatrician or a neurologist for a week or two, just like that? Or maybe those doctors could just come and babysit, I mean supervise, the patients for awhile?

Even prior to the CODE ORANGE teachers were being asked to teach across classrooms, splitting their time and expending energy teaching between two, or sometimes three, different rooms, as if they could clone themselves and be in two spaces at once. And as though teachers can then build relationships and create meaningful learning experiences with students as they are running back and forth between rooms.

Without any consultation or collaboration with teachers as professionals, we have been asked again and again to change, rearrange, and "pivot," even though it has also been conceded by the same leaders in the government that the community spread is not actually in the classrooms, and schools are the best place for children. 

For the sake of the children, our students, we teachers, school staff and their leaders rally. We do everything we are asked and more, and make learning happen, even as our resources consistently diminish. Even as more students live in poverty and in care, and their needs grow every day, and we receive less, we give of ourselves professionally, personally, and more often than not, financially. 

In return, we are offered no professional regard or respect, and yet we continue to work with whatever we are mandated, because unlike the politicians and ivory tower stakeholders, we actually care about our students. We continue to show up and do our best for them, because their health, well-being, and their learning, is important to us. 

It is heartbreaking to read about what some teachers are going through, from worrying about creating engaging learning experiences with 50 kids sitting in chairs in a gym while also not losing their voices, to people whose only safe space to eat is in their car. 

Words I have seen and read too often in teachers' comments are drained, exhausted, scared, broken, anxious, stressed, frustrated, and fed up. There were 25 comments on a post asking if anyone responds they are fine when they are not, many referring to the varying degrees of "okay" or "not okay" which they are feeling.

 I have also read threads abundant with solutions offered to support teachers more, from repurposing the powers that be, like superintendents and consultants, and moving them into the alternate learning spaces to support the frontline educators, to hiring all the new grads in intern-like positions, where they can be of service, and gain experience, without taking on all the responsibilities of independently managing a classroom.  

Teachers voice so many brilliant ideas that continue to fall on the deaf ears of our leaders in government and education, because, of course, following through would require that they actually care about teachers and listen to their professional expertise, not to mention a significant financial investment. 

If not now, then when?

On the flipside, at some schools like mine, where I am so grateful to be, the announcement doesn't mean a whole lot, because there is not a whole lot more we can do. Our leaders recognize our efforts and that we are already doing the best we can with what we have. We cannot create space out of thin air. 

If the government has deemed it safe, and schools are open, our school is not going to ask students to stay home when they are able to be in the classroom. Unlike other divisions, our staff is not being asked to split our classes and simultaneously be in two spaces at once, or teach to both students in the classroom and at home at the same time. 

I know, as I always have, that I am lucky to be where I am, in a building where my leaders trust me to do my job as best I can, even though we are all operating under leaders in government who do not. 

I appreciate that while in our school we will likely repurpose a few spaces, like the laundry room, conference room, and our one meeting space, there is respect for the current measures we have put in place as our best efforts in our classrooms.

If 25 kids spend 4-6 hours in an interior classroom, 30-40 minutes of which is spent without masks as they eat lunch or snacks, does it really matter if there is less furniture in the room? 

Even if we could space out chairs two meters apart and kids sat still on them all day, assuming they actually learned anything that way, if we are all in the same poorly ventilated schools, sharing space in the entrances, hallways, and bathrooms, will it really make a difference?

I feel lucky, that at least for now, I can focus on the learning that has been happening in my classroom, and maybe, one of these days, I will even have the energy to write about it.

I also have many more questions and concerns, about the health and well-being of students and staff and the air quality in many of our schools, as well as about our systems, and why our learning support teachers aren't supplied substitutes while quarantining? I know our administrators have requested they be replaced to support all the classes they work with and have been refused. More collateral damage leaving teachers and students left to suffer.

But there will be more time for all my questions and concerns and the many more that are sure to follow. There will be time to see what more comes, how many more cases, classes in quarantine, and the ultimate impact it has on students and their learning, and teachers and their teaching. It will come. Tomorrow is another day.

I can say with certainty that teachers will continue to work "to the greatest extent possible" for our students, as we have always done. We didn't need a mandate for that.

The government could have made different choices, and now I hope they will start to do the very least they can and allot the promised resources for more staff, so we can actually reduce class sizes without minimizing education, and get through this CODE ORANGE and the year ahead safely together. 


Thursday, October 8, 2020

Layers of Risk- Clearly Reflected in the Numbers

We are now into the second month of the school year under these strange and scary circumstances, and I am amazed that each day, as I deal with the vast and varying needs of my students while simultaneously trying to navigate curriculum, I also recognize the many risks we face in our schools in new and frightening ways. 

Should the virus enter our school, which I know is reflective of many schools, especially middle schools where they today announced more new cases, there are layers upon layers of potential points of contact and exposure. 

Despite the formation of classroom cohorts, staggered lunch scheduling, and the fact that our hallways, once bustling with life, are like ghost towns, and beyond the fact that there is still no opportunity for social distancing in classrooms at all, there are staff in the school, quite a significant number of individuals, who continue their work with large parts of the student population. 

I have been reflecting, or perhaps procrastinating, all week on the various challenges, and risks, not just to teachers in their classrooms, but to various school staff, who, by doing their jobs, are also increasing the risk to themselves and everyone else in the school, while simultaneously dissolving the notion of cohorts. 

There are a number of teachers who teach one subject, like physical education, band, technology, and applied arts to a number of cohorts, or classrooms, sometimes outdoors, and more often in their own learning environments. The masks, sanitizing, and other time consuming safety measures they are taking every day still only go so far, given the number of students they see in our poorly ventilated classrooms. Some of these teachers also teach students coming from different schools without the resources ours has, increasing exposure even more. 

Our three learning support teachers essentially work with one third of the school population each with some crossover. While they don't work with every child, they generally have close contact with a number of students often among the most vulnerable. Some of our students also live with physical disabilities that require direct contact, including feeding and other activities even though these students cannot wear masks. These teachers then go on to visit every school in the classroom between them. Under the current system, their jobs as learning support teachers requires them to work with large parts of the population. 

While some of their time is spent in classrooms, and fairly large spaces, there are times when learning support teachers also work with a couple of students in small offices, or with different groups of students, again usually among the most vulnerable students who are challenged being in classrooms, in their alternate learning spaces. 

When students return to the classroom, which is the ultimate goal, they are also bringing the contacts they have made, and the risk of exposure increases. The contact with teachers who have worked with students from other classes, as well as times when different students share the learning space, also challenges the ability to maintain any sort of classroom cohort. 

The fact is that when individuals, who do the jobs essential to the lives and well-being of students, are working with many different students, just by doing their jobs, the risk of contact and exposure in the school is increased and the ability to cohort students decreases. 

The gravity of the situation began to sink in when I was watching CBC last Saturday morning and they were interviewing a doctor. He was speaking to the risk involved when people socialize, and as he described women sitting around a table playing mah-jongg, he stated that while the risk in handling the tiles is low, it is the duration of time they sit, and the air quality in the room, that are the mitigating factors. He stressed that even if all the players are wearing masks and fairly distanced, after a certain period of time, if present, there is the potential for the virus to hang like smoke in the air, especially in rooms with poor ventilation and therein lies the greater risk. 

As I watched, my mind flashed to the various encounters I have been having with our guidance counsellors as we work together to support some of the students in my classes facing a number of issues no adult should have to deal with, never mind a child, in what are among the smallest spaces in our schools.

Our two guidance counsellors have offices situated across from the library, sandwiched between the boys' and girls' bathrooms. They each have an office that is about the same size as our art storage closet, at maybe 3.5m or 4m long and 2-2.5m wide. They share a bigger 3rd office in the area that houses a piano, as well as a table and chairs, that in the past would be used for groups, and can now accommodate two students with some room between them. The guidance space is connected with its own waiting area, where, in the past, students could find comfort on the couch as they waited, or if they needed a few moments to de-stress, and is now locked. Another loss for kids. 

Our guidance counsellors are in constant demand and between them work with most, if not all, of the school. They spend time in classrooms collaborating with teachers to deliver the health curriculum and mental health programs, they facilitate groups, they attend administrative and support meetings, and they spend time talking with individual students, which is arguably the most important part of a guidance counsellor's job, especially to those students. 

The students who seeks out the guidance counsellors, or are sought out by them, are once again almost always among the most vulnerable. These kids find refuge in the offices of the guidance counsellors as they are safe spaces to be themselves and talk about their lives and their problems. More often than not, these kids are facing serious issues and life challenges. They are worrying about unemployed parents and how they will pay the bills. They are wondering who they are, and in too many cases, who their parents are and why they were left behind by their families or taken from them.

When a child is debriefing after returning from a few days with the crisis response unit, or sharing their worries about confronting their abuser in court months from now, or mourning the death of a family member, or disclosing that they feel alone in the world and have been cutting themselves, face to face communication in a safe and private space is essential. 

Today, for conversations like these, one guidance counsellor can wedge the student just inside the door and move to the back end and get the prescribed 2m of distance, so they can both remove their masks for a few minutes to have as comfortable a conversation as possible during what often feels like the worst times in these children's lives. Sometimes these conversations happen several times a day.

Our guidance counsellors do incredible work every day facing ridiculous challenges to support hurting children in awful situations that are generally the result of the systemic racism at the foundation of our institutions, as well as the bureaucracy that continues to fuel them. 

They are doing the best they can with what they have to support the students they care about, as is every staff person in our building. 

But that does not diminish the fact that by doing our jobs we are facing risks, and the level of risk is not being properly addressed. 

After seeing the doctor's interview, I wrote my administration and the guidance counsellors and suggested that at the least they consider purchasing standing air purifiers for their offices and some of the other small spaces in our building. It seems a logical investment and an important step to protect staff and students in our school, especially considering the guidance counsellors' offices seem to be a nexus point and potentially dangerous point. I assured them I would be happy to learn we have air purifiers, or at least that they are on back order, and that I would be very happy to learn I wasn't the one to come up with the idea. 

When it comes to the pandemic and our safety, it doesn't seem like I should be the one coming up with the ideas. At the same time, it also seems as though the opinions of teachers continue to go unsolicited and disregarded as leaders in government and education remain disinterested in the opinions or expertise of teachers in the field. Not new, but still disappointing. 

This is the hardest reflection I have had to write so far, and my fear is the situation is only got to get worse, with more illness and fear of its inevitability permeating more classrooms. With 50something new cases in Manitoba yesterday, and 67 new cases today, it seems the province and leaders of medicine and education are in denial, or deluding themselves into a sense of security by believing that the problem is only in restaurants and bars. 

It seems they believe that by professing that there will be social distancing and safe protocols in schools, they magically believed it could happen, even though there are over 20 students in the average classroom maintaining even 1m between students is impossible in most cases.

I believe every child deserves to learn in school, but there are more options than the current social construction of 9 a.m - 3:30 p.m for every child. If the government actually cared about the health and well-being of students and staff, leaders would begin by investing in doubling support staff and teachers, in order to cut class sizes in half so students can be properly distanced, cohorted, and safe. 

In the meantime, I am grateful for each warm day I can take my students outside, and the fact that I can keep the windows open, even though my students are already complaining it is cold- I tell them to get used to it and bring a sweater. 

I am trying not to think about the winter to come for now, and how much worse it could be, just as in this post, I didn't even mention the educational assistants, secretaries, administration, custodians, and library staff, who all also share space, and the air, in our school, with a variety of students and other school staff each day, and add even more layers of risk. 

Once again I am hoping to be wrong, but I am afraid the numbers will come to reflect this too.