Today I go back. All summer long I didn’t know if I would go back. Once I realized that physically returning to school would put me at too high a risk for bad outcomes, I made my decision, then I worked on contingencies. Plan A: return as an eLearning teacher (100% online option); Plan B: take a leave of absence; Plan C: take early retirement with a reduced benefit. None of my contingencies involves physically returning to school until it’s safer, so I’ll return virtually. At least for now.
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Like most students, most teachers desperately want to return to in-person learning. Sadly, it’s looking less and less likely that doing so is safe, so all summer teachers have agonized over what to do. Teachers have spoken up for themselves, but also on behalf of their families, their students, their students’ families, and ultimately, the community. And all summer long nasty haters on the internet have been snarling that teachers do have a choice. “If teachers don’t like it, they can do what anyone else in any other job can do: quit.” Is any other profession so often told that if they’re concerned about some aspect of their job that they should quit? That teachers raised concerns was such an affront to some parents in my district they defaced a district sign thanking taxpayers.
Nationally, many teachers will quit. Some that I know have announced their decision to quit very publicly online. They have declared their intention to put their own health and/or the health of their family first. Some have decided that the way this virus will force us to teach—the masks/shield, distancing, cohorts—along with the anxiety and fear, combine to make in-person learning mentally unhealthy for for everyone involved. So they quit.
My own options sound simple, but it took immeasurable mental energy, countless sleepless nights, and hours online with the Public Employees Retirement Association to be sure all options were actually viable. As I write this I still don’t have a firm commitment from my school district on Option A, but the signs are positive. So I will return virtually at 8:00am on Tuesday morning for a training on the new math program, followed by a Google Meets staff meeting that afternoon.
A few weeks ago on a Saturday, I moved all of my books and other assorted odds and ends out of “my” classroom. I was told to just take what I wanted to keep, that several people who really wanted to help would take care of the rest. I wonder if another teacher will be in my room on Tuesday? I wonder if everything I left behind has been cleaned up, or will the new teacher walk in to my mess?
My dad passed away unexpectedly 31 years ago. Sometime before that horrible, tragic day he taped the words in the photo above to the desk I’m sitting at now. I see them every time I sit at his desk, which has been every single day for the past almost five months, and most days before that. Yet, I do agonize. I’d like to do better.
