Teaching is exhausting at the best of times. Even though we are in the midst of a global pandemic, and the media keeps referring to the unprecedented times in which we are living, the government of Manitoba and powers that be in education, have made few meaningful changes in classrooms, and none in relation to teacher workload, or any actual support, financial or otherwise, for schools and specifically classroom teachers.
The choices made by Premier Pallister, Ministers Goertzen and Friesen, and other elected officials, who are supposedly serving the public, are not the least bit surprising given the disdain and disregard with which they have treated Manitobans prior to, throughout this global catastrophe, and with the continued passing of legislation which only hurts Manitoba's workers. Premier Pallister has the nerve to implore Manitobans to "do the right thing," as though he and his government are not the people who have made the very decisions which have left elderly Manitobans standing in line for hours for bloodwork outside of dwindling Dynacare labs, CancerCare patients driving across the city as they close treatment centers in two more hospitals, and put all Manitobans in grave danger by prematurely restarting the economy, sending mixed messages to citizens, and keeping schools open, despite our exponentially rising positivity rate, now the worst in the country.
I get it. If the government acknowledges that while Covid may not be spreading greatly among students and staff causing outbreaks in many schools, they cannot account for how much spread is actually occurring in and around schools as most children are asymptomatic, few are tested, and contract tracing is proving impossible, because then the government would also need to take responsibility for the complete apathy it holds for the citizens of Manitoba as it continues to fuel the economy on the backs' of teachers and childcare workers, and at the expense of students, and the cost of lives in the community.
Until this past week life in my classroom continued pretty much as it always had before, with some limitations, but overall the same. An entire term of life in the classroom, with masks.
Of the 23 students on my homeroom roster, two provided the doctor's referral to make the switch to remote learning at the beginning of the term. They work with a different teacher in the division, who also did the assessment and reporting on their learning, yet their names remain on my roster, and each day I take attendance, I mark them "excused," with the rationale, "remote learning." They remain part of the class, in part as they are welcome to return to school and the classroom at any time and have a place there, and in part so that they remain funded.
Since Code Orange was announced at the end of October, and divisions were required to provide a remote learning option for those who wished, four other students have made the shift, two as soon as the option was provided, one a couple of weeks later, and the fourth just the other day. Unlike many other teachers, I am very lucky, as I am no longer responsible for these students, except when I take attendance. The have another remote learning teacher hired at the beginning of Code Orange.
I am grateful to have school leaders who have advocated for our presence in the classroom and have stood firmly against sending home, "homework packages," for those who wish, or requiring we teach both in the classroom and online. We do not have cameras in our classroom, which can put our students, especially those in-care, at great risks, and we don't have to clone ourselves to teach kids in the classroom and at home, or to be in two rooms at the same time. Our remote learners have their own teachers, which is the least that they, and we, deserve.
Of the remaining 17 students, three are designated EAL (English as a additional language) learners and are afforded different modifications, though not necessarily in the form of additional EA or one-on-one support, as they have been in Canada for less than four years, and another four students have SSPs or Student Specific Plans, with adapted programs to suit their learning needs and different forms of support, again not necessarily an AE, which is limited in my room.
Several students in the class live in-care, and several others live with families, both single-parent and multi-generational, struggling around or below the poverty line, facing challenges with employment, health, and food insecurity.
Prior to COVID 19 changing everything they have ever known as familiar, many of my students struggled equally with getting to school, and reconciling with the fact that school is the safest and only place they actually want to be, even though they might not want, or be able, to do the school work required of them while there. Of course, that is because schools are not always a place that fosters their academic identity or individual learning, but that is a topic for another blog post.
Over the course of this term, on any given morning, there are about a dozen students present as we start the day, and then about 15 as the afternoon begins. In the past 11 weeks in the classroom, as students have come and gone, and our numbers in the province have continued to rise exponentially, I am amazed we have accomplished anything at all.
Yet, a couple of weekends ago, I spent a good 12 hours writing the most scaled-back, yet still comprehensive, report cards, and marveled at my students, their resilience, and all we have learned and accomplished together in the classroom, wearing masks during a pandemic.
Over the term, while my teaching partner covered a variety of concepts in Math, and our teacher candidate facilitated a large research project in Social Studies connected to life in different countries, we also starting investigating scientific methods and theories, and explored a number of big concepts around society, culture, stereotypes, and Human Rights, turning their understanding into creative projects and pieces, while also working through the writing process and on Independent Book Studies. On top of all that, we even started practicing some irregular verbs, together with basic conversation and playing UNO, with hand sanitizing before and after, in French.
To the outside world, and in the critical mind of a judging teacher like me, this may not seem like much, especially when I know what we have covered over many years past, and so I need to remind myself that each accomplishment counts. It is a credit to my students, and to me, and teachers all over the province that learning is happening in classrooms, every single day, in the midst of the worst human health crisis in a hundred year, all despite the provincial government's pitiful and pathetic responses and the obstacles they impose, not because of any support they offer.
While I have had a few students with perfect attendance this term, a testament to how much kids want to be in school, I haven't had one day with my whole class present. One student had an out of town family emergency and was away for several weeks. She is diligent, conscientious, and capable, and only missed one in-class based project through the entire term. Other students are challenged getting to school at the best of times, with the intergenerational trauma of Residential Schools imbedded in their families and perhaps DNA. Schools can be scary and daunting, and the virus is just another reason not to come.
And then there is the virus keeping kids home. In my homeroom, there were two kids required to isolate because of exposure on their school bus with a different case in our school. They were home for a few days, bored with little direction, and thrilled when they could finally come back to the classroom.
Another student was home for quite some days- in real time life the days blur together and I could check the records to find out exactly how many- but it seemed a couple of weeks. Upon his return, I learned he had been sick. His mother had been as well, and had indeed tested positive, but the child hadn't gone for a test himself.
I was relieved he had stayed home, and am grateful he is better, but was left with more questions and concerns. I assume that public health ruled out contact with staff and students at school by the exposure dates and his attendance, but considering that carriers are asymptomatic, and he also became ill, I wonder if the child was directed to be tested, or why he was not? I also wonder why schools remain so uninformed?
It is exhausting, overwhelming, and disconcerting to think about. Why was I learning about a family in my classroom from the child? If he wasn't tested, how can we be certain he wasn't a carrier? Why aren't children being tested? Wouldn't that help public health know for sure whether or not students are carriers and the cause of community spread? Wouldn't more testing help with contact tracing?
If they can facilitate vaccinations and immunizations in schools every year, if schools are to remain open, why can't we get regular, in-school testing? Would that be some the of 85 million federal dollars be well spent?
There are too many questions and it is all too tiring to keep asking. And worrisome. And there was really no time for any of it, as I was teaching, writing report cards, and setting up parent phone interviews. I was just grateful the student was back healthy and safe, and that all in all, I was feeling okay. As it turned out, I didn't have much time to think about it.
At the end of the day last Monday, I learned another student was home ill. This time the school had heard that members in the family had tested positive as they are all part of the division and I was given a heads-up. On Wednesday, at the end of the school day, I received confirmation that my classroom was being closed. I was considered a close contact, as were my teaching partner and my students.
The school administration had already set the chain of communication in motion, and as this is the sixth or seventh time the learning support team has split up the classroom list and started making phone calls to families to tell them to isolate their children and start monitoring for symptoms, they all knew what to do.
I returned to my classroom for the last time before its closure for deep cleaning, and grabbed a few of my own supplies, and one binder I knew a student would need. I let her know I was coming by and dropped it off on the doorstep before I made my way home.
I was in the middle of phone calls as part parent interviews that week, and so I spoke with several families, who all took the news in stride. Earlier in the year, we had sent out our Remote Learning Plan which was helpful as a reference. Parents knew what to expect, and there was a feeling that this had been inevitable, coupled with the relief that no one I spoke to was actually sick- or maybe that was just my perception based on how I feel.
The next morning, Thursday, I posted a note in Google Classroom to my class of students at school, and my other class at home. Because only the teachers cross contact, the group at school will work with a substitute, while my partner and I are in isolation and work with the group at home this week.
We didn't start right away, as we all needed the chance to rest and recover from the news. I also had to go for my test. I didn't know how long it would take and so I got there about 20 minutes before it opened at 9:00 a.m. and was thrilled when I was out less than an hour later. It was definitely easier the second time around, mostly because I knew what to expect.
As I was waiting, in my head I was planning one last trip to Starbucks drive-thru and a latte for the beginning of the quarantine, but when the nurse who stuck the swab up my nose reminded me I needed to go directly home after the test, I felt that sense of social obligation to my fellow human being return, and I heeded his words, and drove directly home. I did indeed "do the right thing." I wonder if Mr. Pallister ever will? I wonder if he even knows what the "right thing is," for he certainly doesn't listen to Manitobans, and he won't find it looking in the mirror.
Students were to be home for conferences on that Friday, and I enjoyed the conversations I had with families and taking care of a bunch of emails and other paperwork that needed to get done.
As my partner and I are required to be home, we are making the most of it. This weekend we cleaned, had groceries delivered, and are taking advantage of all the amenities that are afforded by the privileged life we work to sustain. We are grateful for everything we have and the blessings this life has provided. We both know how lucky we are.
I was also exceptionally grateful to receive my negative result this morning. I have been feeling pretty good, especially for a not-so-young, classroom teacher at the end of a term, and I wasn't overly worried, but it is a huge relief to me and my family, especially with more assurance that I have not passed anything on to them. Of course, like that first HIV result, a negative means negative at the time of the test, and in this case, we are still in isolation until Friday.
I will start remote learning with my class tomorrow. With PD scheduled for Friday, thanks to the "generosity" of the government who make themselves look like heroes returning PD days that were ours in the first place, it is a four day week. I know my students are eager to begin, as despite the notes saying information will be posted Sunday evening, I have already received several messages with questions about the week ahead. It will be interesting and different.
I am excited for the week ahead. I know my teaching partner, my students at home, and I will do great work together apart.
I also feel guilty that I am safe at home. I am safe at home, while my colleagues, my other students, and students all over the city and country are not. They are in the classroom where the virus is clearly thriving, whether it is achieving outbreak status or not.
I also cannot ignore that I am safe at home because a child in my classroom is sick. Members of his family are sick. Member of the community are sick and dying, and schools remain open, but I don't have to go.
I feel guilty even as I know that the guilt is misplaced. I have done my part. I have done all I can. I have and continue to do "the right thing."
I am tired, exhausted actually, from writing, imploring, and even hoping, that Mr. Pallister and our government might do the same. I don't know how Mr. Pallister lives with himself, but maybe it is because he usually does it from Costa Rica.
Even without acknowledging the wrongs of the past, and every poor decision that has lead us to this point, it is still not to late for Mr. Pallister and his government to do the right thing, and close schools now, quickly, before it really is too late.
Teachers have shown, while remote learning is not ideal, we can make it work. Keeping the majority at home will also free space for small groups of students who really need to be there. There are options, choices, just ask teachers.
For my part, I will do my part, and stay home. I will use this week, teaching from home, to recharge, reset, and maybe write some more, because one thing is for sure, I can't give up. Too many lives are at stake. This time my result was negative. I'd prefer there not be a next time.
