day 32- missing school

I remember the preschool director stepping in to my classroom on March 12 to tell me there was a chance that the school would remain closed an extra week after our scheduled spring break because of the pandemic. Kind of funny now that the thought of the school closing for an entire week seemed unheard of. I couldn't have imagined then the way this school year would play out.

Here's what I know is true for most teachers- this is hard. We love our students and love what we do. This doesn't feel like one long snow day (we love those unexpected days off just as much as our students do!) or an extended summer break. We would rather be at school.

The bond formed between teacher and student is a strong one, but especially strong in the early years. I mean... when you are lucky enough to be the teacher of nine five year olds in a small church preschool, you are pretty lucky.

I am feeling down that the school year is over with no closure or goodbye to my class. We left for spring break and just won't return. The departure was abrupt- the students' artwork is still hanging in the hall, the snack drawer still has snacks in it (note to self- take care of this soon!), and my favorite water bottle is still sitting on my desk.

I had fun activities planned that we won't get to do. I had books on hold at the library I was excited to read to my class. I had purchased supplies for sweet projects to make for their mothers for Mother's Day. We won't finish the journals we've been working on all year. We won't celebrate learning ALL of our letters (we focus on one letter each school week). We won't have a preschool graduation ceremony. There won't be a last day of school family picnic.

The preschool directors sent an email to our families offering them the chance to drive up to school tomorrow morning to be given a learning pack full of supplies. Hearing this, we teachers jumped on the chance to join in. We are so missing our students that we are planning to come sit on the school lawn, ten feet apart, just for the chance to smile and wave at them as they drive by.

To have your job abruptly taken away is difficult, but for those of you trying to teach from home, wow. I respect you so much. Our year is just technically over, so I am only offering daily optional activity ideas for my families; I am not trying to teach over Zoom or figure out how to assess and give grades. I can only imagine how difficult that must be. You are doing a job you are not trained to do and some of you are doing it while also caring for your own children. You are amazing.

I watch Kate as she completes her distance learning activities each day. Her wonderful third grade teacher is still reading aloud to her class every day. Kate has such a smile on her face as she listens. I commented yesterday how much I just like her teacher and Kate's eyes got teary. She is missing an adult who plays a major role in her eight-year-old life. This is hard for our students too.

I know that there are harder things happening in the world than this. I certainly don't mean to compare this to the big problems caused by this pandemic. But it's still hard and I think it is okay to acknowledge that.

So hugs to all the teachers I know struggling through this. Hugs to the students missing their teachers. Hugs to the parents who are missing the school routine and are struggling to keep students learning from home. Hugs to anyone missing real classrooms but settling for a table set up in the middle of the living room and a dry erase board leaning against the wall.