All Means All -- Updated

 The text below this paragraph is a post I wrote in 2018. The message is still the same, all these years later: if you have the privilege to work in education, then you have a moral imperative to protect all your students. When I wrote this post originally, it was in response to a situation with a transgender student, but today, I reshare it with an updated emphasis on students who are in families facing immigration issues. Please note, the discussion is not done regarding transgender students. I just wanted to bring this up again in light of our newly inaugurated President's directive allowing ICE to make arrests in places such as schools. Be clear, to me, this is not a political issue. It is a human heart issue. If I am being totally honest, I acknowledge that there is an immigration issue in this country and it needs to be addressed. But I will never condone it to be addressed in a way that is harmful to kids or uses children as pawns. Allowing ICE to approach or come into schools is a (pretty effective) scare tactic designed to strike absolute fear into the hearts of families who face immigration issues of all sorts. Allowing ICE at schools has the very real potential to make schools a less safe space than so may school children already feel it is. Kids already regularly face bullying. Many fear school shootings. Now many will have to worry about being yanked from a classroom by someone or having their parents ripped away from them potentially right in front of their eyes. I understand the financial burden more kids can place on a school district before anyone decides to bring up that argument. It's legit. I get it. But for those who work in education, the first and most important thing is protecting kids. School boards can work on funding and resources (trust me, teachers already are doing this -- they always know how to do more with less: less money, less time, less support). In this day and age, political leanings seem to be a part of everyone's identity. However, for anyone who works in education, that needs to be put to the side when it comes to taking care of those kids in the classrooms, hallways, gymnasiums, and cafeterias. If you cannot commit to keeping the students in an environment that is going to be a safe space for them, get out of education. You don't deserve the privilege.

Earlier this month, I was incensed to read a story about a transgender middle school student who was not allowed to shelter with her classmates during an active shooter drill because nobody seemed able to decide if she should shelter in the boys or girls locker room. I had to wonder if the kids were all going to take a shower or change their clothes during this drill, because if they weren't, then I can't for the life of me figure out why it matters which locker room she or ANY of the other students went in. If there was a real active shooter, are students going to have to follow gender norms in order to stay safe? What would happen if the boys locker room was locked? Do all the boys have to stay outside while the girls get to be safe? Of course not! But that's not the point I'm trying to make.

Being in education can be tough. We have to think of the students first, not ourselves. That means we do things like pull ourselves together when the kids walk in the classroom after we had a fight with our teenager in the car on the way to school. That means we treat with kindness the student whose parent is a constant thorn in our side and we just don't like. It also means we protect all of our students when they need protection. All of them. We have to put aside any personally held beliefs or prejudices we might have. So when we see kids bullying the little girl who comes to school in the same clothes every day of the week, we step in and protect her. And when we hear kids use a racial slur when talking to a student of color, we step in and protect that student. AND when we practice how to shelter from an active shooter, we make sure all students have the safest possible place to take cover without regard to gender.

If you work in education and you take issue with students based on things like socio-economic status, religion, parents' political leanings, race, ethnicity, religion, immigration or citizenship status, health issues, sexual orientation, or gender, then you don't belong in education. Because as an educator, you have a moral imperative to serve all the students in your classroom and school -- you don't to pick and choose. And, by the way, when I say "educator", I am speaking of teachers, administrators, secretaries, aides, custodians, cafeteria staff, bus drivers, and anyone else who works with kids in a school.

If you are an educator and you can't be an advocate and protector for each of your students because you let your own thoughts interfere with the total acceptance of the little humans in your care, then you don't deserve to have the privilege of being in a position of influence for those young lives.

World Teacher Day 2024

 I want to wish all the educators a Happy World Teacher Day today! I may be retired now, but one of the things I vowed to do in my retirement is champion those still out there, doing the work because they simply don't have enough support in this day and age. For most educators, teaching is a passion, a calling. They do it because they're compelled to teach. That's how I was. I wanted to be a teacher from the time I was a little girl. I loved playing school. I enjoyed doing workbooks for fun. I could never get enough school/office supplies (still can't haha). I was so fortunate to be able to do what I loved alongside some of the best in the business for more than 30 years.

Most teachers just want to do their jobs -- share their passion about a subject, impart a little knowledge to kids along the way, and maybe even ignite a spark. But doing their jobs sounds easier than it is. They also have to buy supplies for their students and classroom with their own money, and yes, sometimes even food and clothes. They are loaded down with mandates and paperwork and meetings (GCN training modules, data/IEP/department/curriculum/staff meetings, professional development, mandated reporting, discipline referrals, bathroom, hall and nurse passes -- the list goes on and on). They bring work home every night, weekend, and vacation -- papers to grade, lessons to plan, emails to write and respond to, phone calls to make, documentation to complete, grades to enter. 

Now add to all that having to deal with things like principals who often have little classroom experience, or who have been out of the classroom for so long they don't truly understand what it's like to be in the classroom anymore -- news flash, it is WAY different than it was 10 years or even 5 years ago before COVID. (Quick shout out to the principals who have purposely tried to stay connected to the classroom to be as understanding of what their teachers experience -- that effort does not go unnoticed by teachers, trust me.) The out-of-touch school leaders don't realize the burden of just one more thing added to the plate that only takes 5 or 10 minutes; once you add a dozen of those things across a school year, you're starting to add up the minutes. Or every time you send a kid back to class with a bag of fruit snacks after being sent to the office for discipline reasons, you just add to the burden. Being a principal is a hard job -- there's a reason (well, LOTS of reasons) why I never aspired to that role -- but please try not to get caught up in the job to the point where you can't support your teachers, because that's part of the job, too.

Me, in the middle, with my CJHS "squad" at my retirement party.

Pile on parents and the general public and politicians who love to jump on teachers for not having the same political leanings or for teaching a topic in a way that you don't like (or teaching a topic at all) or for not teaching a topic you think should be taught or for thinking they control you because "my taxes pay your salary." Or for thinking you're a shill for being in a union. Or you're indoctrinating students because you expect your students to be polite and kind to each other -- even the trans and gay kids, even the poor kids, even the undocumented kids, even the homeless kids. There is an entire litany of things the general public thinks teachers do that is wrong and bad and they don't hesitate to let you know in their social media posts, in their emails to you, in the media, and to your face.

Heap on to that kids who can't tear themselves away from their phones, their online games, or their social media. And kids who love to parrot what their parents say at home. These kids can't regulate their emotions or handle stress or being told no sometimes. They can be rude and belligerent, and when a teacher gets no help from the principal or parents, they're stuck. The kid wins. And trust me, the kids know it.

ALL of this while always, always worrying in the back of your mind about school shootings (well, for teachers in the U.S. at least). Always checking in your mind for where all your kids are at -- any out of the room at the moment? -- and the status of your classroom door and windows in case you have to lockdown fast. 

I'm exhausted just writing this and thinking of it all. I'm not living it anymore. But there are so many people I care about who are still there, still putting in the work, the effort, the sweat, the tears, and the laughter. Because there are still some principals who bring around a cart full of treats for teachers just because it's a Friday. Because there are still parents who send emails thanking you for the help you gave with a homework assignment. Because the PTO set up a great lunch during conferences. Because kids still have those moments when the light bulbs go on and it is an absolute rush when that happens. Because kids still hang out at your desk just to talk. Because kids will say hi to you in the hallway. Because kids will still give you a hug or a fist bump randomly. 

Happy World Teacher Day. For what it's worth, I see you. I respect you. And I will speak for you whenever you need me to.

The Reality of Cell Phones in the Classroom

 Maybe it's a coincidence, but the book The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness by Jonathan Haidt is becoming very popular, and more and more schools are basically banning cell phones (which happens to be one of Haidt's suggestions -- phone free schools). I'm not sure it's a coincidence -- I think it's possible this book may just be what schools needed in order to give the concept of phone-free schools some legitimacy. I was inspired to write this post after reading the article in Education Week titled, "The Georgia School Shooting May Accelerate the Backlash to Cellphone Bans." I am a recently retired teacher, but I would like to share what cell phones in school looked like when I was still in education just a few short months ago and use that experience to attempt to explain why cell phone bans could be a positive thing.

Side note: I recognize that there are some students who may need their cell phones with them for medical reasons (example: many diabetes monitors now sync with cell phones) or for educational reasons (some students may use their phones for accessibility purposes, such as to record lessons, hear the teacher better, translate information, etc.). I don't want to suggest that students with legitimate need for access to their cell phone should not have that access. Instead, those cases can be handled individually by the schools. The truth is the vast majority of students probably don't need their cell phone with them during the day at school.

Now let me get on with my thoughts, and I'm guessing I'm going to say some unpopular things.

The most common reason I have heard for why students should have their phones with them actually comes from parents who say they want to be able to reach their kids in case of an emergency. Now, I would like to know what kind of emergency parents are talking about? At the risk of being crass, I think of an emergency as being something like someone is hurt or dies, and I find it hard to believe any parent is going to call their child in the middle of the school day on their cell phone and say, "Just wanted to let you know Grandma died." Things that parents may constitute as an emergency really aren't -- like having to pick up a child after school instead of ride the bus because of an appointment. The truth of the matter is any parent can call the front office of the school and either ask to have their child taken out of class to take an emergency phone call or as for a message to be sent to the student. It is unnecessary for parents to distract their kids with a call or even a text during the day when the kids should be focused on learning. I think what parents are likely thinking when they talk about an emergency is when something happens at school. But even then, there are proper ways for kids to communicate with their parents. If a child gets sick at school, calling mom from the bathroom isn't the way to do it. Instead, the child should go to the nurse and let the nurse handle the contact. In most schools, illnesses are tracked by the nurse's office to try to watch for things like flu, lice, strep, etc. outbreaks. Let's just rip the bandage off -- kids carrying cell phones is kind of a security blanket for most parents; they gain comfort knowing their kid is only a text or a call away. I'm a mom and a grandma -- I totally get this! But as a teacher, that cell phone is a whole different beast.

When kids have their phones, they are just too tempted to check them. That buzz of an alert is a siren call. I know it is because I'm an adult and it does the same thing for me. I also know how easy it is to just take a quick glance at a notification, then decide to open the app for just a quick second, and end up down a rabbit hole of checking a few more things on my phone. If this is happening to me, then I know it's happening to kids. I also know it because I have seen it. Some kids will try to hide checking their phones by hiding it in their laps or under a book. Some kids will ask to go to their locker or the bathroom to be able to look at it outside of class and the teacher's eyes. And let me be real honest here: speaking from experience, I can tell you that you can ask the kids to put the phone away and some will comply, but many won't. They either wait for an opportunity to look at their phone again, or some just outright refuse. That was my experience with one of the last lessons I taught. A number of 8th grade students had their phones out and when I asked them to put them away, some just ignored me, some just moved it under a book, and one actually told me no, he would put it away when he was done "checking something." Now, if you're thinking then I should just take the phone away, well, I could, but let me give you another reality check: when a teacher confiscates a phone, some parents get huffy about that. Teachers shouldn't be touching student's personal property; what if the teacher violates the student's privacy by looking at what's on the phone? I remember when we used to take the phones and have a parent pick it up in the office after school when kids were repeat cell phone users; parents came in hopping mad at the inconvenience. Y'all, support from home would go a long way, but unfortunately, it's not always there, and even if it is a minority of parents who get angry, it makes teachers wary to try again with another student. 

I think what parents really want is the ability for there to be communication in case of something serious happening at school, like a fire, tornado, or shooting. Again, I get that. The text threads I've seen between kids in school shootings and their parents grab at my heart like they do for anyone who reads them. But, if I may, let me offer a teacher's perspective again on how the kids having phones can be problematic.

Depending on the situation, quiet, even silence, is important. Not just for kids to be able to hear instructions but for safety. If the most appropriate thing to do in a school shooting situation, for instance, is lock down and hide to be out of sight, the idea is for a shooter to think a room is empty. A cell phone that rings or pings could call attention to a classroom or other space where students are and put everyone in danger. In addition, kids need to be paying attention to the adults in charge of the situation to know what to do, and they can't do that effectively if they're too busy texting. In addition, kids may end up reporting incorrect information to parents, or a parent may rush to the school in a panic -- a natural reaction. But schools have protocols for emergency situations, and that includes rendezvous points that are safe. Parents who rush to a school in a panic may find themselves in the middle of a chaotic situation and their presence there may end up hampering efforts of first responders. Parents need to do their level best to stay calm, wait for official information from official channels, and be ready to meet their kids or responders at the appropriate location. When you're terrified your child is scared, hurt, or worse, that kind of rational thinking can be near impossible, but it's needed and the best way to help your child in that moment.

From a less emotional standpoint, some people may say that phones are needed to help with learning. And I couldn't agree more! The truth is some schools simply don't have the money or infrastructure to provide technology to all their students, so students are often allowed to supplement by bringing their own devices. In cases like that, I encourage the use of phones by students as long as they are following the rules for use Set forth by their school. But in a district like the one I used to work in, every student had a Chromebook to use, and that enabled them to be able to do what they needed to do without having to use their phones. Related to this, my district was also able to recently equip each classroom with a phone that can be used to lockdown a school with the touch of a button and call 911 and provide the exact location of where the 911 call came from. Not all schools may be able to do things like establish advanced phone systems or give every kid a device to use. In those cases, then maybe kids having cell phones might be a good thing. 

Every school and school district is different, and ultimately, we have to put our faith in the leaders of the schools to understand what is best for those students. Unfortunately, for many schools, that looks like a ban on cell phones for the time being. (If you don't have faith in your school leaders -- superintendent, principal, school board, etc., then I encourage you to contact those people directly to voice your concerns and have discussions, or maybe even consider running for school board yourself to be able to help make the positive change you want.) Maybe schools being phone free for a while can be used as a reset, and after a couple years of detoxing the classroom of the impact of phones, allowing them again can happen. Honestly, if kids and parents could just agree to follow some simple rules, bans wouldn't be necessary. The rules are actually pretty simple and straightforward: don't use or look at your phone during classtime without permission from a teacher. In an emergency, stay off your phone to keep yourself and others safe and so you can hear instructions. And when you do have the chance to use your phone at school, just use it appropriately.

I didn't even get into all the other issues that cell phones bring with them, like cyber bullying and cheating. Yep, those things happen, too. Teachers commonly found kids using their phones to cheat by looking up answers of using a calculator for math. And kids even harass other kids during the day. We actually had a rash of air drop issues a couple years ago where kids would air drop files that were grossly inappropriate, and kids whose phones could accept those air drops saw those files and it caused all sorts of disruptions.

I know it's not easy to accept a phone-free school. Even I feel a twinge of anxiety at not having my phone with me all the time. But I can tell you from experience that the impact of cell phones in the classroom right now is more negative than positive and probably calls for some drastic action to get set right again. 

Above and Beyond

 Yesterday, my community had a pretty significant weather event. A really bad storm came through, possibly containing a tornado, right at the time our students were being dismissed to go home. As kids were in the hallway to go to their busses or cars, we lost power briefly and a tornado warning was issued at the same time. Int the brief darkness, everyone -- teachers, administrators, bus drivers, custodians, aides -- jumped into action, herding kids away from doors and into interior rooms. Kids were scared and confused. Some were crying. Some were wet and chilled because they had already gotten on a bus or in a car and had to come back in through the punishing rain and wind. 

Teachers sat on the floor with their kids in cramped spaces where it was stuffy and talked with them, told stories, shared jokes, gave pats on the head or arm, handed out tissues to wipe tears, and reassured kids they were safe.

Once an all clear was given, students came out of their sheltering areas and back to the classrooms with their teachers as it took some time to determine how to manage dismissal now. It turns out that there were many trees, branches, and power lines down all around town, making it difficult and/or unsafe for school busses to get kids home. So we had to reach out to families to let them know they needed to come get their kids.

It was after 5:00 PM before the last children were picked up. And the teachers stayed. They played games with kids, read them books, and talked with them. They dug up snacks and made sure kids could get to bathrooms (lots of potty visits needed after the kids were done sheltering). They helped kids get their belongings together (since many had just left their bags and supplies behind as they went to their shelter areas). They contacted parents directly and sent pictures of their kids to the parents. They took phone calls from worried moms and dads. 

In short, the teachers stayed with their kids until the last ones went home because it had been such a scary, long ending to the day. When parents said, "Thank you," the teachers just kind of shrugged and smiled because to them, this was just part of what they do for their kids. Nothing extraordinary happened. This is the job of a teacher -- you're there for your kids, no questions asked.

Some people may say that this indeed a teacher's job and they shouldn't be thanked for doing what is expected of them. I understand that logic. But I disagree. Once the all clear was issued, teachers could have easily went home. There were plenty of other people available to keep an eye on the kids until they got picked up. No one would have blamed the teachers at all for wanting to get home to check their property themselves or to get to their kids who were home through the storm. But the teachers stayed. 

I stayed, too. My kid is grown, and my husband was home safe with my dogs. We had no real property damage. I tried to make myself useful -- I helped talk to parents and get kids to their rides and brought them to staff bathrooms when the kids' bathrooms were full. But really, I wasn't needed since all the individual classroom teachers were there. So I got to kind of be an observer, and it was just heartwarming to see the genuine care the teachers showed their students. It made me feel so proud to be able to count myself among their ranks -- making me cool by association :-) 

I wanted to be sure the whole world knows just how much the teachers did for the kids yesterday. Above and beyond is an understatement. 

The scene outside my school after the storm. The teacher in this picture had her car damaged in the storm, but she was outside clearing debris so everyone could walk safely on the sidewalks.


Also, an uprooted tree about a block over from my school.

Teaching During a Pandemic -- We're Not Being Babies

 A friend of mine recently shared this article on Facebook, explaining why teaching during this pandemic is not sustainable. It was a great read, pretty brutal in its honesty. It explains what so many people who don't work in education need to know. Last spring, people were cheering the work teachers did; now, they're calling us babies. We're not babies. But we are running ourselves ragged going above and beyond. Lots of people are. It just seems to be a by-product of a pandemic -- everything we do seems exponentially harder. But teachers are getting hit hard, and when they say they think we should not be doing in person teaching, it's a clear indicator that the hell that is remote teaching is better than the hell that is teaching in a school right now.

Let me offer a couple things before I launch into my rant. I am a teacher, but I am no longer a traditional classroom teacher, so I am well aware that the amount of work I am doing is nowhere near the amount of work my colleagues are doing who have actual classes of students. I'm tired from the extra effort my job takes, and I know I have it easier than my co-workers. The district I work in a relatively small, and we are offering in person instruction with the option for families to choose remote instruction if they do not want to send their kids to school in person. I personally feel my district has done a good job with this in terms of safety protocols. I do not worry about getting sick when I am at work. But I am starting to wonder if shifting to remote instruction might be worth considering. Here's why.

It comes down to bodies: we are running out of bodies to run the classrooms.

Let me use myself as an example. On November 1, my husband told me that he had a stuffy nose. That alone was enough to exclude me from going to work the next day; I was in a home with someone who had one of the symptoms on the COVID self-certification list. My husband needed to go get tested so I could go back to work. He called his doctor Monday; he got tested Tuesday, and found out that day he tested positive. That kept me in the house for his 10 day quarantine period. We tried to keep apart from each other -- slept in separate rooms, kept 6 feet apart in other parts of the house. But when his 10 days was up, because I had been in the same house with him, I needed to start my own 14 day quarantine to see if I would develop symptoms. That took me through Thanksgiving break, and I was set to return to work on November 30. But as luck would have it, on November 28, I had some chest congestion and a low grade fever, so I went to get myself tested, and now I'm working from home still, waiting for my test results. So I've been working from home. Now, I don't have my own class of kids, so my district did not have to hire a sub to cover for me. But what if I was a regular classroom teacher?

Well, I could teach from home, provided I felt healthy enough. I could video into my classes, but I still need a sub in the room to monitor the kids. This is where the massive staffing chess game begins.

Substitute teachers are hard to come by in the best of conditions. It's not a steady job, it pays notoriously low, and too many kids see it as open season on a stranger in the room. My district has tried to anticipate the need for subs, so they hired 2 full time subs per building to cover classes when teachers had to be out. We have since had to hire more subs because the 2 per building wasn't enough. We are also trying to hire day-to-day subs as well. People who are common subs are not subbing right now -- they're often retired teachers, and they are wary of coming into schools because they may be health compromised. So in order to get bodies in rooms, subs are having to cover more than one teacher's class in a day, and teachers and instructional aides are being pulled from plan periods or support roles to cover classes. 

Teachers and staff aren't necessarily gone because they're sick. But they have to be out if they've been exposed or if they even have the sniffles. And it's usually not just a day or two. It tends to be for 5 - 14 days at a time. 

Some teachers in my district are teaching in person learners and remote learners at the same time. That means they're teaching 2 classes at essentially the same time. This requires two very different methods of teaching, plus a heavy reliance on technology. Inevitably, one group of kids seems to get more attention than the other. If the in person kids need help, they get the attention while the remote kids are left to find a way to be more visible or vocal to show they need help. Or the teacher gets so wrapped up in trying to help remote learners not only with the lesson but also any tech issues, the in person kids lose out. That's why in my district, we use subs and aides in as many classes as possible to assist the teacher with tech set up and monitoring and troubleshooting the remote learners. But when those subs and aides start getting pulled to be the lone adult in a class to cover a teacher who is out, things can go south quickly. Teachers are working tirelessly to keep all kids engaged however they can.

Then once the kids start having to stay home -- again, not necessarily because they're sick -- they can easily fall behind. Teachers end up fielding a flood of emails from students and parents with questions about what was covered or with tech issues they need help with. Teachers have to lesson plan for in person and remote learners, plus make sure those plans are detailed enough for a sub to follow in case the teacher has to leave abruptly -- maybe the teacher gets sick, or the teacher gets notified in the middle of the day that he or she has been identified as a close contact and will have to go home and isolate for 10 - 14 days.

Teachers are in a hamster wheel. They're spinning plates. Is your head in a fog just trying to make sense of all these moving parts? Imagine living in it every day. 

I believe the vast majority of teachers love being able to teach in person with their students. I think they're worried about getting sick, but it's not a pervasive fear. I think rather most teachers are afraid of literally collapsing from exhaustion from trying to keep up with everything they need to do. If teachers talk about wanting to teach remotely, it's because they are reaching levels of desperation. Teachers all know that remote teaching isn't the best for the kids, but is it better to have a teacher in and out of a classroom, having the kids being taught by different people every day while a teacher is out quarantining? None of this is ideal. None of it. But please realize that teachers are not being babies. They're not giving up on their students. They're not being lazy. They're being the opposite of all those things. They're being complete professionals. They're desperately trying to find ways to reach all their learners. And they are working harder than they ever have in their careers.

COVID-Era Education: Pirouette Instead of Pivot?

In the era of COVID-19, school has been turned upside down and inside out. When everyone was in lockdown, decisions were pretty simple. Now that states are reopening to various degrees and with different levels of success, the decisions about returning  to school are about to get really, really hard.

I am thinking off the top of my head here, so if there are lots of unanswered questions and problems and holes, I get it. This is off the cuff writing and thinking happening here.

Maybe we need to take a cue, kind of sort of, from school choice advocates and restructure school districts where families have some choices. For instance, thinking about the district where I work, there are 4 school buildings. Currently, the buildings are divided according to grade levels. Rather than dividing by grade levels and trying to come up with a schedule that fits as many as possible while allowing for those who need/want exceptions, maybe we change each building to manage the learning environment different ways. One building can be "school as usual" where everybody just goes back and does what we have always done. Another building can be an environment where the strictest possible health protections are put in place: very small, self-contained groups of students, 6 feet apart, wearing masks, no shared materials. The other 2 buildings could be varying degrees of the 2 extremes -- maybe bigger class sizes, masks, semi-self contained. Maybe split schedule for families who have some flexibility with their time and who want kids to not have to wear a mask all day. Then finally, there can be a pool of teachers who have offices instead of classrooms who run online instruction for families who don't feel sending their child to a school environment right now is safe or beneficial. Families can choose the configuration that suits them best. Or I think about my local high school district, which has 2 buildings: grades 9 and 10 in one, and grades 11 and 12 in another. One building is a 3 story building; the other is a 1 story building with many wings. Buildings like that could be reconfigured by floors or wings. A change like this would really shake up education in this country. So often, school doesn't look like what it did when today's parents were in school, what with Common Core, technology, standards-based learning, and an emphasis on 21st century skills. This kind of change would really be mind boggling. It's an incredibly different way to think about how to structure the learning environment and experience. But we are living in such a strange time, maybe school needs to uber, ultra flexible. This would be a massive undertaking by any school district, one that would require a great deal of planning and preparation. But schools could do it. After all, most schools were able to pivot to remote learning with very little notice. Education could pivot again -- this time, it's just going to look more like pirouettes.

MacGyver-ing Education

Illinois Governor J.B. Pritzker announced at 4 PM on Friday, March 13 that Illinois schools would close starting Tuesday, March 17 through Monday, March 30 (this has now been extended through April 7). This announcement gave schools all over the state little time to prepare for what to do for kids who would not be in school. Since these were called "act of God" days, there were no requirements for schools to provide instruction. And in fact, some schools did just that -- nothing. But lots of schools started a mad scramble to learn all they could about what e-learning looks like and what tools could be used to deliver e-learning instruction. That's exactly what my school district did.

Speaking for myself, I spent all last weekend reading about e-learning to understand the best way to structure e-learning lessons for students. And believe me when I say there was a LOT out there to read. I worked to synthesize what I learned to share it with teachers in my district. Then I spent the rest of the time looking at the myriad of tools out there and tried to narrow them down to a short list of easy-to-use, effective tools for students AND teachers. And then I worked on putting together what I could for teachers and students so when we were all in school on Monday, we could do some front-loading before we separated from the kids at the end of the day. I can't say for certain what other teachers in my district did, but based on the high level of successful learning that happened this week, I would say they all did the exact same things I did. Everybody researched, synthesized, constructed, and collaborated so when we did our first e-learning lesson Wednesday (Tuesday was a teacher institute day), it was a success. High levels of participation (over 90% attendance, and some teachers individually reported 100% attendance) and quality learning taking place (for a sample, check out the Twitter hashtag #CSD17Learns).

We also managed to arrange getting devices to families who needed them for e-learning as well as meals for students who needed those, too. Arranging everything required the work of literally every staff member -- teachers, administrators, custodians, secretaries, cafeteria staff, social workers. Everyone mobilized throughout the weekend, came to school to serve our students Monday, then used Tuesday to finalize the plans. Every day, we debriefed and fixed what needed fixing. This required all of us to work well beyond a traditional day. Most of us were working from 7 or 7:30 in the morning until well after dinner time.

And nobody complained. In fact, everyone really celebrated. We knew we were still connecting with our students and their learning was continuing. Parents got involved and supported what the teachers were doing, too, and that is why we had such a successful week.

I have never been more proud to be an American public school teacher than I am now because I witnessed and experienced a level of dedication and commitment to kids this week that defies explanation. And when I saw this post on social media, I felt I had to reiterate what is said. Teachers ignored obstacles to learning and made sure their kids still got the best possible education available, one these kids have a right to.

In my district, we are on spring break this coming week. We are all telling each other to rest, relax, and enjoy this week off because we earned it. But I know that I will have some rest time, but I will also be working to make sure that when we "return to school" on March 30, there are meaningful learning experiences in place for my students. All the teachers I work with will be doing the exact same thing over spring break, I am sure.

Because that's what teachers do. We work tirelessly for our students.