Moving Forward With Grace

https://bayart.org/grace-quotes/

Each month of this year I have been choosing a new ONE WORD. Instead of one word to try and fit the whole year, I wanted to be constantly reflecting on where I am and where I am going.

And who knew back in January when I started this that 2020 would be the year that each month would require it's own word.

Seriously. Each month of the year has actually required a word.

It's only been 4 months. 4 months.

Wow.

Listening to educators and parents express their frustration and stress over the emergency distance prompted me to share the following on my personal FaceBook page. And in writing it I determined my word for May.

Grace.

Teachers are doing their very best with what amounts to emergency distance learning.

This is not e-learning, this is not planned, this is not normal.

Good pedagogy involves establishing a relationship with your students, talking with them, observing them work, observing them struggle, observing them master a skill.

Almost none of these things can be done through a screen.

Teachers are trying their very best. In many cases they have learned more new things in the past 4-6 weeks than many of us who have dedicated time to innovating and trying new tech have in years.

Will some activities take too long? Yes.

Will some activities need a lot of adult help? Yes.

Will some activities be too short or too easy? Yes.

Will it involve YouTube videos? Clicking many links? Downloading docs and slides and PDFs and jpgs and and and? Yes.

Is it learning? Maybe.

Some families are demanding teachers send more work. Some are complaining to their friends that it’s too much. Some are complaining loudly and to whoever will listen that we don’t deserve to be paid.

And I believe that all of those parents are overwhelmed, scared, stressed and worried.

I also believe that most teachers are working longer hours and feel that they aren’t making any difference. They know this is the best learning situation for your children... for their students.

They know.

There is still no end in sight to this.

So as we move into May and end another week of emergency distance learning let’s all live with a little grace.

Give yourself and your children permission to not do the work for a day, or two... or a week. It’s ok.

Give yourself grace to recognize that you can’t do your job and teach your kids at home.
We get it. We can’t do it either.

Give your children grace and time to read, time to play games and time to laugh. They will still learn.

If we get through this with happy and healthy children, we win.

If we get through this with children who have learned the value of standing strong with their community, we win.

If we get through this with children who have learned cooking and laundry and cleaning and other life skills, we win.

Wake up tomorrow and give yourself grace.

https://me.me/i/it-takes-grace-to-remain-kind-in-cruel-situations-daily-18523691

If you aren't still in a school library...

... are you still a teacher-librarian?

It's a question that's been swirling around my head now for a few weeks. One that at times I've wanted to explore deeply and at others the mere thought sends shock waves of pain. But the ache and the wonder is always there. 

It's there like a toothache. 

As the world, as Canada, as Ontario has made the emergency pivot to distance learning,
to remote learning, to e-learning... 

to all the names that would require and demand a whole other blog post...

As we pivot, I wonder- 

Am I still a librarian? Am I still a teacher?

I know that I am still a curator as I work on the virtual library learning commons and as I gather resources in a Google Classroom to support teachers with their new reality.

But I'm not teaching students.

Not that I know of.

I'm not even interacting with students, beyond my own two daughters, to be honest.

A few students have reached out via email but it's not anywhere near like it was in the physical library. There's no asking what books I think are good. There's no questions about which section in the library the books on weather are found in. There's no requests to take a picture of the students' tinkering and creations at the maker stations.

Am I still a teacher-librarian?

I know I am a resource. I know that I have helped educators with tech questions, with Google questions, with finding resources, with read alouds, and read alongs and the list goes on and on.

So I don't feel unnecessary or unneeded. I know I am helping. And I'm grateful to have a role.

But if I'm being honest, I didn't become an educator to work with adults.

I miss the students. I miss the daily interactions and the buzz of the library.

I miss the mess. I miss reshelving books. I miss the chaos.

The saying "you don't know a good thing until it's gone" never really applied to me
and my role in the library learning commons as a teacher-librarian.

I know I hit the education jackpot. I knew how good I had it.

So now I wonder- 

Am I still a teacher? 

Am I still a teacher-librarian?

What is the definition of those roles and where do I fit in the current educational landscape?

I don't want anyone to think I am feeling sorry for myself, because although I am sad and grieving as many of us are- I have my job, I am getting paid, and my family is safe.

I am doing work everyday that matters and is helping people.

I am continuing to learn new skills - how to create choice boards,
how to curate valuable resources for others, how to create Screencastify videos as tutorials for educators, how to do many, many, many, many new things within the Google suite.

I know that this has clarified for me my love for teaching, my love for working with students as they learn and explore new things, my love for all things school library and my desire to never work in a role that doesn't involve being in and around children on a daily basis.

As we moved forward with our pivot, our emergency plans and our eyes open to many realities of the education system that is inequitable and broken in so many ways, I wonder what new roles will emerge. What new job descriptions will be written? What roles will be seen as essential and necessary? 

Where will the role of teacher-librarian go from here? 

How has it been changed through this experience?

What will the landscape of education look like moving forward?

April 1st...

This year I had decided to choose one word each month during the year in order to document my own learning and living journey. The plan was to blog about it each month and to talk about the words I chose.

I did well for January and February.

I picked words. I blogged about them. I shared my thoughts.

Then March came.

Oh March.

I did choose a word for March. 

I recorded it in my bullet journal after contemplating a list of words.

But I never blogged about it.

In fact, I didn't blog about anything in March.

In a year where everything about being an educator was a little bit harder, a little bit more strained, a little bit more stressful (okay, a lot more stressful...) I choose the word appreciate for March.

Appreciate.

I felt that if I chose appreciate I would slow down, look around and pay attention to the things in my life that were beautiful, that were good, that mattered the most.

I tried to voice my appreciation to my children when they were helpful, when they played nicely together, when they listened well. I tried to voice my appreciation to my husband for every thing that he is and does. I worked to appreciate the days I had at school with my colleagues and students after weeks of strike days and interruptions. 

I wanted to view my world through a lens of appreciation.

And then...

The world got scary. The world turned upside down. 

The world shrunk down to the walls of our homes.

And now we know we will be here for the month of April.

And maybe longer.

And the questions just keep swirling through my mind.

How will we support our students at such a distance?

How will we work to ensure the enormous gap in equity and privilege doesn't expand beyond what we can ever recover from? How will I be a librarian without a library?

How are my students? How are their families?

How are my colleagues? How are their families?

How are you?

How can we work to maintain connections? How can we strengthen connections?

How can we create connections?

How? How? How?

And I know that I am not the only educator struggling with these and many more questions.

So what will be my word for April?

How could one word be enough?

I chose breathe.

Breathe. 

April's word will be breathe.

I chose to keep breathing as we move through this time.

I chose to breathe as we embrace and encounter struggles.

I chose to breathe as we find new ways to support our students and their families.

I chose to breathe until we are all together again.