Blog Post by PTAC MEMBER Anthony Grisillo I had to spend seven hours in my school library packing up my Spring Book Fair this year. Usually this is a team effort, but this year it was a solitary task. A total of five classes visited the Fair along with several parents and families during their parent-teacher conferences. I go all in with my Book Fair. I decorate my library with the help of students, creating an exciting feeling that was only experienced by less than 25% of my school. School was closed just as the Fair began. Cleaning up this particular Fair was one of the most depressing moments I have experienced as a teacher in my 22 years of teaching. I know it is just a Book Fair, but it felt like much more than that.
I couldn't help thinking of all my students at home, social distancing with their families, many kids disappointed that they missed their time at the Fair. I had a box of books that had been ordered by students which had arrived just before our building was shut down. I decided to hand deliver these books to the kids myself, calling each family first to make sure they would be home. My plan was the drop and dash like a magical book fairy leaving treats in the night. It didn't work out that way. At each house I found people eager to talk, to interact. There was no quick drop off. Everyone was hungry for time with an outsider to their isolation. I found myself sharing survival tips with each delivery. Never sure how to end the conversation other than having more deliveries to make, each visit reminded me of phone calls with a girlfriend in high school -- neither one of us wanting to hang up. At one stop I heard, "Mr. G! It's Mr. G! He's actually here!" from the neighbor's yard as another student saw me. She was hanging out with a third student virtually on a phone. Students need us. Smack dab in the middle of Maslow's hierarchy of needs is a sense of belonging and love. Our students and their families get these feelings from their school community. Our schools, which are now the shuttered buildings we cannot visit, bring smiles to many people. But these feelings are not the physical space. Rather, they are part of the culture the faculty and staff nurtures in those buildings, something that no automated teaching resource can replicate. In this time of isolation, teachers need to be the reminder of a sense of belonging because we are all in this together. Our students and families need to know we miss and love them. This is our passion. This is why we chose this profession. And at this time of distancing, we need to help people feel connected by bringing that culture to our students and families by any means available to us. Virtual facetime with our students has become invaluable. Seeing their excitement when they interact with us via Meet, Zoom, or Skype is a highlight to their experiences. It does not replace the in-person interactions from our physical classroom, but it does start to provide an ability to maintain our school’s culture. New skills are learned, replacing the “Anthony, can you please take your seat?” with the “Anthony, can you please mute your microphone?”. These moments also give our students’ families a glimpse into how much we care about their children. They can see the enthusiasm that we bring to our craft. It offers a glimpse into the art of teaching that families rarely get to see during a normal school year. I wish I could go around and just say hello to all of my students at their houses. It would be awesome to surprise each of them with a live appearance by someone other than their immediate family. Our students need to see that we miss them and that we are thinking about them. We need to be a reminder of the third level of Maslow. We need to be that connection to what was normal and that glimmer of promise that this too shall pass and we will still be there for them in the end because we never left.
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BLOG POST BY PTAC BOARD MEMBER KAREY KILLIAN The challenge of starting something new, like teaching in a virtual environment can be exciting. That excitement quickly disappears if one’s access to the internet is limited. In some homes across the Commonwealth, high-speed, broadband internet isn’t an option. In my rural area, cable is not available and “unlimited” internet gets throttled just a few days into the new cycle. I don’t know much about megabytes and kilobits, but, as a teacher and a parent who is reliant on internet, receiving this message from the internet provider feels like a punch in the gut: “You’re all out of high-speed hotspot...Your mobile hotspot data speed has been reduced, so you’ll get up to 600kbps for the rest of the billing cycle (the next 19 days).” What does this look like and sound like in our home? Streaming video services like Netflix and Amazon Prime are taboo in this household. We are thankful that we have DVDs and a few VHS relics to watch on family movie nights. When the frustration levels increase because websites are taking too long to load, we turn off the devices and play a game together. This was easier to do when school work wasn’t mandatory. Now that our two girls are expected to complete graded assignments, and I’m expected to submit classwork for my 900 students, we’re trying to find innovative ways to manage the data. Managing data usage requires constant communication about what needs to be done for each person. Our 2nd-grade daughter uses a laptop connected to my husband’s hotspot on his phone. She uses about 4GB of data each day with the required videos and activities that her teacher has thoughtfully prepared for six classes. We have about 15GB of data per device and if you do the math, we have enough for 2-3 weeks. Our daughter in 11th grade uses the school issued iPad and connects to her phone if the home hotspot is too slow for her 10 classes. Her school, looking to create solutions, gave us a hotspot to use. Unfortunately, like in many other rural areas of Pennsylvania, it doesn’t work because there isn’t any service with that provider where we live. Strategies that work for our family:
Moving forward, we realize that at some point this month we may not have any internet connection. I’m trying to prepare lessons that will last for my students in the event that I won’t be able to connect with them from home. We have spent a great deal of time and money trying to figure out how we can get better internet access for our family. We haven’t been able to find a solution that can keep up with the increased demands for all of us in this virtual learning environment from home. The COVID-19 pandemic is exposing many inequities in our education system. There are many other teachers and families across the state who are in the same situation that we are. If we believe that education is opportunity, and that opportunity should be provided to all, then we must try to find solutions that ensure every student has access to high-speed internet - during this period of remote learning and in the future.   BLOG POST BY PTAC PRESIDENT MAIRI COOPER  April 9, 2020 My dearest seniors, As soon as I heard the news this morning that Pennsylvania schools were closed for the year, my thoughts raced to you. Your individual faces and spirits filled a collage in my mind's eye. In a sudden surge, I heard the sounds of the past four years; your laughter, your questions, your indignation and most importantly, your many stories. Dahlia. Evan. Amelia. Why do I feel this grief for you so profoundly? As I was packing up my office a month ago, I thought that this day might come. The virus had revealed its power in other countries and more than anything I just wanted all of you to be safe. I remember thinking, “it would be worse to miss this part of college.” But would it? Claire. Noah. Gwen. Now is supposed to be your time. Most of you have solidified your plans for next year. You have begun to dream of your future steps and how they will shape you. When I first met you as freshmen, you were only starting to become the spectacular humans that currently grace my life. You were less secure, less thoughtful and, yes, less funny. All of the ingredients for who you would become were there, but the recipe had yet to come together. Only now, as second-semester seniors, have you realized that potential. You do not only step into the light, you have learned in so many ways, how to create it. Emily. Oskar. Eliza. I am mourning the loss of spending the next two months celebrating with you. More important than accruing a fabulous GPA, excelling on standardized tests or playing the perfect concert or game, high school is about finding your identity. For the past four years, your teachers have embarked on a journey with you to help you shape the person that you have become. We have laughed with you, answered your questions, endured your indignation, and loved your many stories. And now, we want more than anything to applaud your growth, cheer your success and share your dreams for the future. Felix. Sophie. Gavin. You began to process the possibility that we would not end the year together. It’s all the little things that we are missing…the elimination game, the picnic, the day to wear of college gear. I just want to play the Haydn. I have waited four years to be the one to turn out the light last. You have earned these rites of passage and we will try to honor as many of them as possible. It is important for you to experience these so that you may run with open arms and hearts into the next chapter of your lives. Sydney. Keith. Zeynep. However, for now, know this. I am not done with you. Even if I am miles away or behind a computer screen, my heart and every ounce of my energy soars to you. I am so proud of who you are and am not letting go of the time that I have left with you. You will not always be my students, but you will always be my inspiration. Izzy. Lukas. Cuna. I love you, Coops BLOG POST BY PTAC MEMBER MISSY HALCOTT What if we could reimagine schools? What would we do if standardized tests and grades weren't a thing? What would we, as educators, prioritize and what would we discard?
COVID-19 has humbled schools, shut their doors, and sent children to their homes to shelter; but it has not ended learning. Instead, I dare say that COVID-19 may yet revolutionize how schools run and how learning takes place for years to come. Instead of allowing this pandemic to put an end to learning opportunities, educators have scrambled to make remote learning opportunities available to learners all over Pennsylvania. Educators have scrambled to establish connections, revitalize the relationships between families and schools, and not allow the shut down of their brick and mortar schools to shut down their efforts to educate. Providing families with meals, technology, and supplies needed for success during this pandemic has served to center our districts as the hubs of our communities and cemented partnerships that will not easily be severed once we return to "normalcy” -whatever the new "norm" may be post COVID-19. Without the pressure to perform and be evaluated by their students' performance on state assessments, educators have taken risks, failed forward to better engage their learners in new and untraditional ways, and exercised grace with themselves and their colleagues when these new endeavors have fallen short of perfection. Teachers are embracing opportunities to attend professional development, supporting one another in their endeavors to provide support for student growth, and implementing new learning tools and strategies to allow them to see and connect with their students despite closures. Once this pandemic passes, it is my hope that our priorities in public education will have permanently shifted. I hope we embrace and foster these renewed partnerships between home and schools. I hope we continue to value efforts to innovate over celebrating standardized success. Most importantly, I hope we retain our focus on keeping relationships at the forefront of our educational practices. After all we've experienced and endured in the first three months of this year, I feel we will remember 2020 as the year education's purpose and vision got a whole lot clearer for all who serve and are served by our schools. THE STUDENTS NOT ON MY ROSTER: BALANCING MY TEACHER GUILT AND PARENT GUILT IN A VIRTUAL WORLD4/8/2020 BLOG POST BY 2020-21 PA TEACHER OF THE YEAR AND PTAC MEMBER JOE WELCH Each week, PA Teacher of the Year Joe Welch will be sharing his experiences and thoughts as we all work through the disruptions caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. His pieces are cross-posted from his personal blog, Inclined to Teach. “Dad.” “Dad.” “Dad.” “Dad.”….”Dad.” “Dad.” …”Daddy.” “Dad.” (There were a few more Dads in there, but, you get the idea.) This past weekend, my preschool-aged son, Noah, was trying to get my attention. He had to have called out my name at least a dozen times before I even acknowledged him. Sure, I was sitting with him on our back porch, pretending to pay close attention to him as he played with PlayDoh and I typed an e-mail back to a parent on Saturday afternoon to solve an issue her child was having in the new virtual learning world. Then, it hit me. That wave of parent guilt that many teachers feel on a regular basis during the school year. Perhaps it is when we are staying after school to get caught up, or when we attend weekend activities with our students and miss a family function, or, quite frankly, when we are spending more time with other people’s children than our own. But, there’s no way that can happen in a virtual learning environment, right? Wrong. There is no sidewalk to walk out of school now, no time to reflect and change gears on the car ride home, no bells or goodbyes to signal a change. This year, I have 109 students on my roster. 109 students with different interests, family lives, abilities, needs, personalities, and talents. But, it is the 110th and 111th students on my roster that are often being ignored as a result of attempting to be fully available and committed to students 1 to 109, as well as their parents, during this crisis. Enter my preschooler and 1st grader. They see me on Zoom meetings with my students, laughing, smiling, and teaching. I’m sure that they hear me telling them “wait one minute, buddy” or “hold on, my dude” in exchange for not having to have one of my students wait at all for an e-mail reply. When they think back to this crisis 5 years from now, 10 years from now, 15 years from now, are they doing to think back to this period and remember that “daddy did not spend much time with us”? That keeps me up at night. My children are younger, and love attention from their parents. But for those teachers with older children, I am sure, even if they do not admit it or are masking it, are craving your connection during this crisis. But, this leads to the ultimate choice of having to knowingly or unknowingly select teacher guilt or parent guilt. So how do you balance these two? Honestly, that is something that has always been an area of potential growth for me and an area that I am struggling with now. For me, the easy choice over the past three weeks has been selecting parent guilt. Because I think, “oh, there will be more time for me to be with my children after this e-mail, after I make this screencast video, afterI do this demo video for an administrator, or after I talk a colleague through something on the phone instead of sitting down to read a story one on one to my child.” So, teacher guilt vs. parent guilt, what’s the solution to feel neither and to make yourself fully committed to both in a virtual environment? Being a realist, I do not think I will be able to discover the solution to this in my blog entry. In fact, I think, to a large degree, that merging both lives enables me to be a better teacher, connect with analogies and lessons from my own life, and to let my guard down for students to see the real me. But, in this virtual setting, I am finding a whole new ballgame and I am going to implement a few changes that I feel may help. 1. Set a more clearly defined schedule, write it down, and schedule your children in there. I have been guilty of keeping my agenda for office hours, meetings, and every different type of Zoom meeting on my computer. What is not on my calendar is any type of defined time for my own children or time with my wife. That is going to change, and, I feel that if I “see” it on a schedule, I will be better equipped to follow that commitment. 2. Build that sidewalk away from school in your mind. Let’s be honest with each other. We enjoy teaching, so we find excuses in our minds to always be looking to bring our own lives into our lessons or vice versa. But, in this virtual world, there has to be a limit of a boundary. I am going to allow myself to work at night, however, will have to put some time restraints on myself to cap that. Can this wait until the morning? Will not responding right now cause emotional stress for that student? 3. Learn from Oklahoma! character Ado Annie. I grew up as a musical theater boy. In fact, in 8th grade, I got to be part of our high school’s production of Oklahoma!(we had a small school and boys in grades 7-8 were needed as townspeople…) But, I remember a song in there that I am now using out of context, but, it is titled I Cain’t Say No. So, when we hear that phrase, “Hey, can you do me a favor?” or “Hey, it would be great if somebody…”, we gravitate towards filling that need. We can’t say no, we want to help. But, I need to remind myself, that it is indeed okay to say no, because, that will better enable me to say yes to my children. 4. When you hear a colleague say “I’m bored”, let it go. Bored? Bored?!?!? Just this week, I heard another colleague, a good friend, say that he was bored. This is the complete opposite of what I had been feeling. I feel like I am playing a game of whack-a-mole. So, I think, “What in the world am I doing wrong that I am not feeling this bored feeling? I had a to-do list of things I would like to get done during this and I have not touched one of them. I must be the worst parent in the world if I am having trouble spending time with my own children, let alone crossing items of my to-do list.” So my takeaway: everyone is dealing with this crisis in their own way and has their own situation and responsibilities. I look forward to making this a focus of mine to work on in the coming days, weeks, and months ahead. I also welcome any advice, tips, or strategies that have been working for you in your own situations. We’re off to check out the Pink Super Moon as a family! BY 2019-2020 PA TEACHER OF THE YEAR AND PTAC MEMBER MARILYN PRYLE  While we all try to navigate the new educational landscape we find ourselves in, the most important thing to remember is perhaps the most obvious: It is not the old educational landscape. This may seem painfully apparent to you right now, but are you really accepting that fact, deep down? As my district begins to move into online learning modes, I, along with several of my colleagues, have wondered how we could pick up the old pace, teach all that needs to be taught, and learn every possible online platform while planning for full lessons. This is, of course, impossible. The old pace is gone, along with the dreams of what we had planned to cover this year. And we are slowly, stumblingly, finding our way around a website here, a Zoom meeting there. We are stunned, confused, and overwhelmed. And that’s just at the intellectual level. Emotionally, we are heartbroken and terrified. Everything is different, and we have to learn to let it all go. Samantha Neill, a member of the Kansas Teacher Taskforce, said it best when she visited PTAC last week: “This is not regular ed. It’s emergency ed.” We are not sailing along in the third quarter of our former classrooms. We’re clinging to life rafts in some kind of time-warp. This is especially difficult for teachers because we absolutely need to be good at our jobs. We became teachers because we know what it means to change lives through helping kids grow. We are passionate, committed professionals. We are experts, both in our content and in our pedagogy. And on top of all this, many of us are perfectionists. We like planning, preparing, organizing, and generally controlling our worlds. It’s what makes us so good. It’s why teaching is such a perfect fit for us. We’re used to giving 100%, and we’re used to seeing some returns on that effort. We wrote, and rewrote, curriculum. We planned out the space of our classrooms to reflect our educational philosophies and most efficient learning strategies. We had reading corners, math stations, and collaboration tables. We curated books for classroom libraries and created all manner of materials. And now? The physical space is gone. The curriculum is up in the air. Many of us do not yet have the green light to assign or assess anything. We’re still giving 100%—I’m exhausted at the end of each day—but I’m not sure where or how. And many of us are teaching our own children at home or caring for family members. Everything feels jumbled. Our former lives of defined spaces and predictable bells have disappeared. We feel robbed of the currency that once defined us—our ability to command a group, to connect one-on-one, to juggle 50 tasks at once, to plan a great lesson and execute it, to attend a meeting and then teach and then grade, to create the space for those quiet, miraculous moments when a student understands something new. This what we were trained to do and what we have honed through experience. True, these things can theoretically happen online, but how? In what form? I am incredibly sad at the loss of all this. And yet I know I must let it go. I know I must practice compassion as I work through the excruciating acceptance of our new reality, but it’s difficult. I have found myself telling myself, and others, “It’s okay, go slow, go easy on yourself. Lower the bar.” Lower the bar? Go easy on myself? These are thoughts I would have never permitted before March 13th. It pains me to think them. But this is exactly what we must do. As good as we are, we must scale back. We must let go of the need to control that makes us so effective. It feels unnatural and wrong. It feels like cheating. But we have no choice if we are to care for our students and ourselves in the way that is needed during this scary, agonizing time. This is not regular education; it’s emergency education. We can perhaps take this time to reflect on our very identity as teachers and people. Now that it feels like we’ve lost everything as teachers, who are we? What kind of teacher am I without my beloved whiteboard and bean bagged reading corner? Who am I without my colored folders and organized bins? When all is taken away, what is left of this teacher-self I have so carefully created? And how can that essential self, stripped of all its bells and whistles, connect with students, who are also feeling incredibly vulnerable and alone? These are the questions I will be contemplating. For me, the answers have to do with a conviction about how learning creates better human beings, and how literature plays a role in our understanding of ourselves as humans in a long, long line of other humans. It has to do with a belief that reading and writing can save the world. Certainly, we have not lost everything: We have our passion for learning, we have our love for students and humanity. We have each other. And we have every bit of the expertise that we have worked so hard to gain. We will persevere. But if you’re feeling overwhelmed, sad, and mostly ineffective, it’s okay. Go slow. Cut back. Take it easy on yourself and simply be present to your students in whatever way you can. It’s alright if you’re not perfect for a while. BLOG POST BY PTAC MEMBER COLLEEN REINER I got a reminder on my pop-up calendar yesterday. It was letting me know that one of my students was having a birthday. I thought about the birthday box that I usually fill with markers, treats, pencils, and a few other items. We all sit around while I present the birthday box and we sing “happy birthday.” It is something that my students look forward to, that special recognition of a milestone in their life.
I have been so busy trying to get everything set up for online learning that I completely forgot his birthday! The birthday box and supplies are locked at school. Even if I had remembered, the birthday box wasn’t going to happen. The box itself and all of my birthday supplies were at school. I know how important a birthday is to a child. It is almost as important as their name itself. An idea came to me as I was fretting about this child having to celebrate his birthday, isolated at his house, without any friends or classmates. I went on to our class SeeSaw and put a call-out to his classmates. I asked them to make cards and videos and post them to this young man. Being the administrator of the account, I was able to see all the posts. Some were homemade cards while others were videos by themselves, with pets, or with a sibling. I wouldn’t call this relationship building because their relationships started on the first day of school. It was more relationship strengthening. Today, I watched a post by this boy. He wanted to thank all his friends for their cards, videos, and well wishes. “And yes,” he said, “I watched every one of them.” He said this with a great big, ear-to-ear, smile as I, myself, had tears in my eyes. In this time of uncertainty, we are bumbling around trying to make sense of everything, trying to gain power over something we have no power over. We are trying to scour the internet for ideas to teach our students online and help them get the education that they need. What we should really be doing is looking at our children and asking ourselves, “What do my students need socially and emotionally? How can I help their mental health through this crisis?” Our students are experiencing death. It is death of school as they know it. It is death of the predictability of school. It is death of their school relationships. This is really traumatizing, especially to our younger learners who have no idea what is going on. To have their school close indefinitely may add stress to what some children are already dealing with at home. We need to provide opportunities to process this and move through it instead of just brushing it under the rug. I have attended many meetings over the past few weeks. One thing is clear. We need to continue to maintain relationships with these children. I miss my students terribly and know that they miss me. I try to connect with them through email, messaging, videos on SeeSaw, and occasional Zoom meetings. I am realizing now that there is another relationship that we need to continue to nurture. It is the peer-to-peer relationship. Because of social distancing children are discouraged from play dates. Some have parents who are still working and are being ‘supervised’ by older siblings. Some of my students live in town while others live in the rural farmlands of our district. They can’t easily just talk to each other in their neighborhood and maintain a 6-foot distance between them. We are social animals and want to gather together to talk, play, and know that each of us is ok. How can we give our students the opportunity to do this? It is hard to come up with ideas that are student to student centered. I include time in a video chat to check in with each, and every, student. I also give time for my learners to chat with each other when we are together. I encourage them to include others on their videos and posts in See Saw. I am also thinking of working on some collaborative lessons in which they will need to work together virtually. The events in these few short months have certainly made us stop. The roadblock has been put in the road of how we know education to be. It is up to us to carve out that detour with ingenuity, creativity, passion, and perseverance that teachers possess. Priorities will change. Delivery systems will change. Education will change. But that relationship that we build with our students, and between our students will always remain steady. BLOG POST BY PTAC MEMBER ANN SCHMIDT I sit here on April 1 and nothing about it feels like an April Fools’ Day. We are now in a shelter in place situation, schools have been closed down for two and half weeks and will remain that way indefinitely. What does indefinitely mean? What does that look like? This is all new territory for all of us. As teachers, we crave that normal routine, the interaction with students, the ebb and flow of the school day. Now we all sit here, in front of our computers trying to deliver instruction, continue and nurture our connections with students and try to process the ever-evolving information about COVID-19.
This past Monday, our amazing Digital Film and Video teacher had her students share their films documenting their daily lives during this shelter in place order. While many have been observing this order, our students have been adjusting to this new normal as best as possible. The sobering reality for me, was the students who shared their unique perspective during this time. Many lamented that their senior year was looking like nothing they recognized, others shared they were still reporting to work and even one who shared that their parents were laid off or had hours cut back. Their jobs vary from being food service workers at the retirement center, to the grocery store and other essential services that they are fulfilling. Many were asking for more employment to fill in the lost wages of a parent or guardian. One of my colleagues shared that one student apologized for not completing their work, as they were now working full-time to help supplement the family’s income. As I reflect on these stories, it struck me that while so many remain home, doing what we can, we have students who are experiencing this traumatic time while their normal routine and social structures have been completely disrupted. What will be the emotional toll of this time, how will we as educators and school districts be prepared to address the needs of our students when social distancing is the new norm? Now more than ever, we need to put compassion first, strive to help students learn to grow and develop resiliency through this challenging time. Grades and content should be a far second during this national crisis we are all experiencing. Please don’t discount the perspective of our students and the lens from which they see all this unfolding. It is critical to keep this student perspective in the forefront of our planning as we move forward, not just now, but when that day comes and we eventually return to the brick and mortar school. BLOG POST BY PTAC MEMBER HOLLIE WOODARD Hollie Woodard’s piece is cross-posted from her personal blog, The Red Flag Parent.
From this point forward the word CAN’T can no longer be used in education. For those of us on the educational advocacy front line, the word CAN’T has proven to be our biggest adversary. In 6 short, yet seemingly long, instructional days, the word CAN’T has been pushed aside by the biggest educational decision-makers in the country and WE MUST has been replaced pushing all educators and educational decision-makers into uncertain and new areas of innovation. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in any way downplaying the serious immediate and long-term health and economic issues associated with this virus, but as I sit at home contemplating an array of emotions regarding the field that I am most passionate, I can’t help but feel hope. I’m a relentless educational advocate. I work hard to shine a light on the ways we are getting education wrong in PA. This is why if you are one of my colleagues or friends, you have also spent part or even most of our relationship mad or annoyed at me because I have unapologetically pushed you out of your comfort zone by identifying how you contribute to the problem. The focus of my advocacy has been special education, digital equity, and 21st Century teaching practices. As the mother of a child with special needs, I have first-hand experience with the problems in special education, specifically in the way in which dyslexia is handled...or often not handled...by public education. I serve on the ACT Leadership Committee of Decoding Dyslexia PA and work with a group of amazing dedicated parents and grandparents of special education students who share my same experience. We work to use our collective voices and skills to try to change special education in PA. In addition, I currently serve as the Advocacy Chair of PAECT (Pennsylvania Association for Educational Communications and Technology) which is a team of dedicated Pennsylvania educators and administrators who work tirelessly to support educators in their quest for 21st century best practices. Because of the diverse economic and geographic demographics of students in PA, digital equity is an issue that PAECT passionately advocates for, and as the Advocacy Chair, I have taken the lead in the equity battle. Finally, I’m entering my third year as a KTI (Keystone Technology Innovators) Lead Learner. KTI Lead Learners are a squad of award-winning innovative educators in the state of PA who volunteer to work all year long and give up most of their summer vacation to prep and provide a week-long professional development with a focus on 21st Century Educational Best Practices for selected teachers in the Commonwealth. I and my like-minded advocacy warriors have long battled in the educational arena, armed with tiny battery operated LED flashlights, tirelessly fighting to shine a light on these educational challenges. However, in one giant burst of lightning, COVID-19 has forced educational decision-makers into that same arena requiring them to not only talk about issues in Special Education, digital equity, and 21st Century teaching practices but to solve them as well. My advice to those leaders who now find themselves in this new scary world of uncertainty, where decisions are no longer dictated by the proverbial WE CAN’T, is to tell them that they are not alone in this battle. Turn to those who have been screaming, yelling, whispering, posting, tweeting, and arguing WE MUST and ask them to collaborate. You know who we are...and we’re ready to help. COVID-19 will no doubt serve as a notable marker in our human timeline in which we talk about what life was like before the virus and then after the virus. While it will challenge and stretch the resiliency and survival skills of mankind, it already has done the same for education. The innovation we generate to provide FAPE, digital equity, and virtual learning will no doubt generate much needed educational change, but most importantly what COVID-19 is doing and why I believe it is the Educational Advocate of the Century, is that it is showing us that WE CAN. Blog Post by 2020-21 PA Teacher of the Year and PTAC member Joe Welch Each week, PA Teacher of the Year Joe Welch will be sharing his experiences and thoughts as we all work through the disruptions caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. His posts are cross-posted from his personal blog, Inclined to Teach. As some teachers are about to officially begin their continuity of education plans and some of us about about to enter into our third week of distance learning, or some name thereof, I feel that the emotion that I have battled most for two weeks was the feeling of being overwhelmed. For me, the most stressful time of the school year had been the first weeks of school. There would be level of wanting everything to be just perfect, long hours each day trying to learn about your new students, setting up locker tags to make students feel comfortable, answering questions, and never really knowing where the next meeting invite would come from. After experiencing two weeks of virtual learning, the emotions that I personally have experienced have been very similar. You think that you have a handle on what the next day is going to look like and you may even have a task list ready to go. But, here comes the next Zoom invite. Here comes the next e-mail that will “just take a few seconds to respond to”, so you go to it and put down what you had been working on. Here comes that time when you sit down to relax and a student reaches out with an email. This has been the new first two weeks of school, when hours of when teaching time ends and when family time begins. My own lists have gotten continually longer each day, and no matter what I complete, I replace a task with two more. It is a mix of the movie Groundhog Day and the feeling of running in quicksand. Having two children of my own learning at home has certainly compounded this, but, the first thing to be crossed off my list to manage tasks has been diet and exercise. Although essential to mental health, it is just too easy to say “I’ll deal with that later.” So how have I started to manage this feeling of being overwhelmed:
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AuthorPennsylvania Teachers Advisory Committee Archives
July 2020
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