At dinner last night, James and I were discussing how, aside from the terrible reason why the quarantine exists, we actually are quite at peace with our new rhythm. Being blessed with a large house, a big backyard and conservation land behind us certainly contributes. I have a good friend who is a single mom with her 12 year old son and 4 year old daughter in a one-bedroom apartment. While they do the best they can, she expresses often how challenging it is to be on top of each other all the time.
Other than James weekly trip for groceries and our weekly game of Car-dines, we really don't leave the neighbourhood. We have now made 3 birthday runs (where we drive over to the celebrant's home, honk loudly, hang out "Bonne fete" sign out the window and shout best wishes as loudly as we can). Juliette talks non-stop about her birthday coming up in June, alternating between being distraught to have to celebrate in quarantine, and excited to plan in case it's over. A birthday in quarantine for a child certainly must feel like a tragedy. A whole year is entirely too long to wait for another birthday. We will likely designate a second birthday for Juliette if necessary, but something tells me it just won't be the same.
This week has been filled new-found pastimes and much creativity. Caleb and Ben have created two dozen flip books - hand drawn animations full of baseball pitchers and ninjas and curly lines and bouncing balls. Juliette is leading her two cousins, Sienna and Kendall, in forming a band. They have been hard at work writing songs, planning outfits, selling out concerts, building props and sets, and all around dreaming as a 7 year old does. Colin has created a new YouTube channel with original animations and artwork, aimed at telling funny anecdotes and stories.
Ben, Juliette and I decided to explore further in the conservation land behind us, only to discover that it is actually private land when we happened upon the owner. Nerves quickly gave way to cabin-fever as we let our desire for human connection and conversation melt away the fear created by the current situation. As his two daughter and my two children romped in the fresh spring and chatted with their chickens, our new found neighbours shared the short version of the story of their lives. They are two characters worthy of a beautiful little Swedish short story. (Swedish, I write, because currently I'm reading my second Swedish novel that has such a beautiful way of telling a story about characters who have an unusual spark to them.) As always happens in the Orangeville and surrounding area, we discovered a connection (their daughters attend the school James teaches at, and their oldest will be in grade 3 next year - having a 50/50 chance of being in James' classroom).
In a time of repetitive routines, small pleasures have gained great value. Yesterday during movie night, our doorbell rang. It took a minute for the sound to register before we all jumped up. As we opened the door, we saw two girls from our best friends, the Lalondes, standing there awkwardly. This is a family with whom we never use the doorbell, and only really knock to announce that we are opening the door and entering anyway. They held out a package and two brightly painted rocks. We held out our hands, and then, as the current situation dictates, we both awkwardly stepped back. "Here," they said quickly, and put it down on the step. We reached out to gather the gifts. "Wait!" I shouted and rushed to find a Harry Potter puzzle we had finished and knew they would enjoy. The same strange exchange ensued, me placing the puzzle like an offering to a king and them snatching it up. We thanked them and closed the door, wondering where their car was as they walked away. We then heard a strange knocking on the back windows, and another peek out the door revealed their youngest daughter staring from behind a tree. A text later in the evening revealed that there had been some sort of plan evolving in the car on the way over to knock on windows and scare us, but the timing of everything had fallen apart. What is amazing is the pure delight we felt from the gift, the surprise, and the comedy of it all. Small pleasures with great value.
All four children have declared that if they could only see their friends now and then, they actually much prefer this new lifestyle. There is little grumbling from the older two about schoolwork as they diligently and independently complete their tasks. Caleb says he absolutely loves this new format and is not looking forward to spending 6 1/2 hours a day at school and losing the time he has found to develop his own interests and talents. Colin is a take-it-or-leave-it kind of kid. When he has a passion, he's very focused and driven. I would love to find for him an adult mentor/teacher who inspires him even further. Ben would rather give up school altogether. He's a smart kid who loves to learn but again, driven toward his own interests. I think a big outdoor project would be the perfect curriculum for him. Juliette is more of a mystery. She is smart as a whip and is the kid who always has her hand up first in class to answer the question. She is blowing our minds every time she takes a turn to read from scripture: there's barely a word that stumps her even in the old English language. The work she is getting from her teacher is easy and boring. She understands new concepts really quickly. But I don't see a natural affinity for learning like I do in the other three boys. Ironically, the one child I have who really thrives in the public school format actually doesn't seem to desire the fruit of education yet.
The most strange thing to see when we do venture out in the car is to observe the neatly spaced lines of people standing outside grocery stores and banks. Limits on the numbers of people allowed inside mean that you must cue up outside, spaced 6 feet apart, and wait for your turn to enter. James doesn't have the patience or time to wait (I would have even less) and so we don't engage. But it does feel like something out of a sci-fi movie or dystopian short story. Canadians are notoriously patient people, and Orangeville during the quarantine is no exception. People seem to accept the requirement to shiver in the cold April wind, appropriately distanced from each other.
Again, I feel the need to reiterate that it all feels just a fraction off of normal. I'm not sure if living history always feels this way, that it's just regular life for us. I wonder if when my great grandchildren ask me one day about living through the quarantine, I'll shrug my shoulders and say there wasn't much to it.
Saturday, 25 April 2020
Saturday, 18 April 2020
2020 Quarantine - week 5
There is a rhythm that has developed in our home. I am daily astonished at how regular the routine seems. I always have this haunting yet excitable feeling that we will look back in 20 years and only then understand just how strange this whole experience was.
Juliette continues to struggle without a playmate. By the end of the day she devolves into tears. She has no one to play with. The boys don't like her games. She wishes she had a sister. She wishes she could see her friends. She has never developed the ability to play alone, a little surprising since she has never had friends close enough by to play with all the time. She asks why God sent covid, why the world has to be the way it is. She ponders over big ideas for a seven year old.
It only took one week for Colin to work out a schedule for himself. After the first week, Colin found himself with a pile of assignments due that same day. He pushed through to finish, but it provided the opportunity for he and I to discuss time management and the benefit of calendaring. We mounted a whiteboard in his room for him to track assignments for the week, and a simple checklist to make sure everything got done in time. Since then he's managed each day. I check in just to make sure he's on top of it, but so far all goes well. He may not get a lot of curriculum covered through online learning, but his work skills will benefit greatly.
The monstrous media has been rearing it's ugly head. Having grown up with little access to TV or video games, and having developed a healthy sense of creativity as a result, it's always on my mind in raising my children. It's not that I want to control every minute, but I want to make sure that my kids have large blocks of uninterrupted time for both boredom and its progeny, creativity. We have had several iterations of the media schedule, but this week's seems to be the most successful. They get 30 minutes of "junk food media" before 9am - whatever their little hearts desire. Between 9 and noon screens are used for learning: online classes, school work, or independent projects and learning. From noon until after dinner the screens are off, no questions. This is where it used to creep in before. "Can I use it to look up a song? Do a drawing? See a photo?" Find another way, is my mantra now. Finally, in the evenings, we alternate between a board game night, movie night, or video game night as a family. I'm always in awe of my children's compliance. It isn't a compliance from fear or threat of consequence. They seem to genuinely respond to my laying out the logic behind our decisions.
After 2 weeks of online teaching I have about 90% participation rate. 90%! I expected about 20%. And more than that, I'm having large participation numbers from students who previously had given me little to nothing in class. Students who used to duck out, misbehave, or simply choose not to complete work are putting in a lot of time with my learning choice boards. It's making me reflect on the reasons. My in-person classroom is generally engaging and low-pressure. I teach through songs, games and stories. I never force output from students. Something about online learning is making some students struggle, but others thrive.
James is still the only one who leaves the house, to get groceries twice a week (once for us, and once for his mother). We dart out once a week for our game of Car-dines. It's fun to see friends from a distance and strange all at the same time. It's the illusion of connection, but at once really nothing more than a tease. We shout a few ongoings from our lives between cars, straining to listen in the wind and over the children equally shouting at their friends.
It is easy to forget about the traumatic part of all this. Drastic change leaves an imprint on our lives, and yet because this change is masquerading as normalcy it's difficult to put a finger on what to gently correct as a parent and what needs nurtured healing. It's difficult to know if any of our mood swings should be checked or tolerated. As if mocking the situation, the weather in April has returned to a wintry wonderland of blowing snow and minus 10 temperatures. It leaves us without the desire to get outside much. Reading by the fire is fine, but by mid-April our habits of hibernation have grown tiresome. Trauma has also paralyzed me a little bit in that I could be doing a great many projects around the house - organizing, creating, building, designing - and yet I don't seem to find the minutes in the days. I try to remember that coping mechanisms are about survival, and perhaps my body subconsciously knows it cannot handle the stress of the mental output.
Our community theatre production of Matilda, in which I was musical director and Benjamin and Juliette had roles, has finally been postponed to next season. Soccer and baseball are both playing a "wait and see" game. School is being cancelled two weeks at a time, currently until May13 but who really knows. It is the constant state of not-knowing that taxes me most. We don't have the ability to see what the next few months are really going to look like, to make plans, to wrap our heads around it.
Juliette continues to struggle without a playmate. By the end of the day she devolves into tears. She has no one to play with. The boys don't like her games. She wishes she had a sister. She wishes she could see her friends. She has never developed the ability to play alone, a little surprising since she has never had friends close enough by to play with all the time. She asks why God sent covid, why the world has to be the way it is. She ponders over big ideas for a seven year old.
It only took one week for Colin to work out a schedule for himself. After the first week, Colin found himself with a pile of assignments due that same day. He pushed through to finish, but it provided the opportunity for he and I to discuss time management and the benefit of calendaring. We mounted a whiteboard in his room for him to track assignments for the week, and a simple checklist to make sure everything got done in time. Since then he's managed each day. I check in just to make sure he's on top of it, but so far all goes well. He may not get a lot of curriculum covered through online learning, but his work skills will benefit greatly.
The monstrous media has been rearing it's ugly head. Having grown up with little access to TV or video games, and having developed a healthy sense of creativity as a result, it's always on my mind in raising my children. It's not that I want to control every minute, but I want to make sure that my kids have large blocks of uninterrupted time for both boredom and its progeny, creativity. We have had several iterations of the media schedule, but this week's seems to be the most successful. They get 30 minutes of "junk food media" before 9am - whatever their little hearts desire. Between 9 and noon screens are used for learning: online classes, school work, or independent projects and learning. From noon until after dinner the screens are off, no questions. This is where it used to creep in before. "Can I use it to look up a song? Do a drawing? See a photo?" Find another way, is my mantra now. Finally, in the evenings, we alternate between a board game night, movie night, or video game night as a family. I'm always in awe of my children's compliance. It isn't a compliance from fear or threat of consequence. They seem to genuinely respond to my laying out the logic behind our decisions.
After 2 weeks of online teaching I have about 90% participation rate. 90%! I expected about 20%. And more than that, I'm having large participation numbers from students who previously had given me little to nothing in class. Students who used to duck out, misbehave, or simply choose not to complete work are putting in a lot of time with my learning choice boards. It's making me reflect on the reasons. My in-person classroom is generally engaging and low-pressure. I teach through songs, games and stories. I never force output from students. Something about online learning is making some students struggle, but others thrive.
James is still the only one who leaves the house, to get groceries twice a week (once for us, and once for his mother). We dart out once a week for our game of Car-dines. It's fun to see friends from a distance and strange all at the same time. It's the illusion of connection, but at once really nothing more than a tease. We shout a few ongoings from our lives between cars, straining to listen in the wind and over the children equally shouting at their friends.
It is easy to forget about the traumatic part of all this. Drastic change leaves an imprint on our lives, and yet because this change is masquerading as normalcy it's difficult to put a finger on what to gently correct as a parent and what needs nurtured healing. It's difficult to know if any of our mood swings should be checked or tolerated. As if mocking the situation, the weather in April has returned to a wintry wonderland of blowing snow and minus 10 temperatures. It leaves us without the desire to get outside much. Reading by the fire is fine, but by mid-April our habits of hibernation have grown tiresome. Trauma has also paralyzed me a little bit in that I could be doing a great many projects around the house - organizing, creating, building, designing - and yet I don't seem to find the minutes in the days. I try to remember that coping mechanisms are about survival, and perhaps my body subconsciously knows it cannot handle the stress of the mental output.
Our community theatre production of Matilda, in which I was musical director and Benjamin and Juliette had roles, has finally been postponed to next season. Soccer and baseball are both playing a "wait and see" game. School is being cancelled two weeks at a time, currently until May13 but who really knows. It is the constant state of not-knowing that taxes me most. We don't have the ability to see what the next few months are really going to look like, to make plans, to wrap our heads around it.
Saturday, 11 April 2020
2020 Quarantine - week 4
Well that was a week.
The end of week four marks the end of our first week of distance learning. The kids had daily classes, and James and I were both responsible for delivering curriculum. There are many frustrations for everyone.
First is the reluctance for our school board to approve online tools and resources. I and my students have been using many digital tools all year, and suddenly I'm trying to change everything I do. Secondly, the sheer amount of work teachers are pushing through to students is putting off students and parents alike. My Facebook feed is mostly personal, so populated with friends who are mostly parents. I saw post after post of parents talking about the tears and battles they had (adults and children) in trying to navigate online learning. Google Classroom is highly organized but has so many layers to sift through it is challenging at first. Two grave mistakes teachers are making:
1) giving way too much work. First of all, the amount of work needs to be pulled back because parents do not have 6 hours a day to spend teaching one child. They have several children needing to share the computers. It takes parents much longer to figure out what the teacher is trying to teach and then convey that to their child. The parents are often still working from home. I think a good rule is plan for an hour. Then cut that in half. And then shave off a little more. And then you are probably where you need to be. Teachers always over-plan so they don't run out of material in class, but it's backfiring now as parents are overwhelmed with the amount of "options" being pushed out.
2) treating this week (and this month) like April, not September. In September, teachers rarely focus much on the teaching part. September is about building classroom community, setting expectations, teaching students how to use the tools, and practicing habits like logging onto a computer. We are starting new here, with new communities (online), new expectations (when to work and how much at a time), new tools (computers and programs) and new habits (how to work apart from the teacher and in your home). Week one really should have had no curriculum, and should have been reserved for daily, very small tasks to get to know the software and for students to start setting up some work parameters at home. And frankly, week two and three probably need to be the same. It takes time for new habits to develop.
I spent all week trying to get my 100+ French students from grades 4 to 7 signed up on one online language learning app. Hours a day, for five days straight, trouble-shooting something that I usually do with my students in about 10 minutes in person in class.
On a more positive note, I did come up with an easy learning choice board for my students for the rest of the year. A learning choice board is a table of boxes and each box contains a small activity. There are online games, quizzes, videos, drawing challenges, and reading blocks. As I truly considered what my programming should look like, I realized that French class will not be a priority at home for many parents who need to focus on reading and math. So I'm offering a collection of favourite activities from class and just hoping to keep some French language in my students' heads.
Caleb has been absolutely thriving in his online environment. Every morning from 9am - 10am he meets in an online class to watch his teacher deliver a lesson and interact with his classmates. Afterwards he has about an hour of homework, assignments or a task based on the lesson. Now and then he will get back online in the afternoon for small group work. Earlier this year Caleb took three months to homeschool with me. He loved the self-directed learning, but missed his friends. This new format seems to be exactly what he thrives in. In his own words "This seems much more professional and less like school." Ben seems neither here nor there. Juliette loves to see her friends, and always wants to answer everyone question first. I applaud the French school board - they were able to assess quickly the situation, choose a platform, train their teachers and roll out a program effectively.
We are taking daily walks. I feel like we see more of the neighbours now than we did ever before. It's still strange to take a wide berth around everyone, but there are lots of smiles and nods and greetings, especially to those working in their yards.
Mornings are usually dedicated to school work. Afternoons is outdoor time - sports, games, fort building, roaming in the forest behind the house, sitting by the campfire. Yesterday we ventured out as a family in the car to play "Car-dines" with four other families. Similar to the hide and seek game Sardines, one vehicle drives off and "hides" somewhere in town. Every minute they send out a clue (words or photo) and the other vehicles race to try and discover where the first car is. While waiting for all the cars to show up, conversations through car windows helped us catch up with friends. There was a little competition and a lot of fun.
We listen to the news much less these days. True to its historical pattern and personality, the news is still reporting daily but in a much less urgent way. Debate online rages - we are doing too much, we aren't dong enough. Some things have been suspended indefinitely (church). Some things are suspending two weeks at a time (school, summer sports for the kids). Speculation runs rampant: will schools be back before the end of the year? Will we even be back in September?
New articles from 1918 are circulating, the measures against the Spanish Flu (H1N1) sounding exactly like what we are facing today. What I can't seem to find is how long the measures lasted in order to be "effective" (I'm not sure 50 million worldwide deaths can be deemed effective, but certainly there are reports that cities that locked down hard and early had fewer deaths).
This week I wrote an open letter to parents, as a parent and educator myself. I had a lot of positive feedback from it. I'm including it here.
I am amazed at how normal life seems. We are only a degree off of normal life, and although we are in fact travelling further and further from where we were a month ago, we humans are resilient and adapt to a "new normal" fairly quickly.
***
The end of week four marks the end of our first week of distance learning. The kids had daily classes, and James and I were both responsible for delivering curriculum. There are many frustrations for everyone.
First is the reluctance for our school board to approve online tools and resources. I and my students have been using many digital tools all year, and suddenly I'm trying to change everything I do. Secondly, the sheer amount of work teachers are pushing through to students is putting off students and parents alike. My Facebook feed is mostly personal, so populated with friends who are mostly parents. I saw post after post of parents talking about the tears and battles they had (adults and children) in trying to navigate online learning. Google Classroom is highly organized but has so many layers to sift through it is challenging at first. Two grave mistakes teachers are making:
1) giving way too much work. First of all, the amount of work needs to be pulled back because parents do not have 6 hours a day to spend teaching one child. They have several children needing to share the computers. It takes parents much longer to figure out what the teacher is trying to teach and then convey that to their child. The parents are often still working from home. I think a good rule is plan for an hour. Then cut that in half. And then shave off a little more. And then you are probably where you need to be. Teachers always over-plan so they don't run out of material in class, but it's backfiring now as parents are overwhelmed with the amount of "options" being pushed out.
2) treating this week (and this month) like April, not September. In September, teachers rarely focus much on the teaching part. September is about building classroom community, setting expectations, teaching students how to use the tools, and practicing habits like logging onto a computer. We are starting new here, with new communities (online), new expectations (when to work and how much at a time), new tools (computers and programs) and new habits (how to work apart from the teacher and in your home). Week one really should have had no curriculum, and should have been reserved for daily, very small tasks to get to know the software and for students to start setting up some work parameters at home. And frankly, week two and three probably need to be the same. It takes time for new habits to develop.
I spent all week trying to get my 100+ French students from grades 4 to 7 signed up on one online language learning app. Hours a day, for five days straight, trouble-shooting something that I usually do with my students in about 10 minutes in person in class.
On a more positive note, I did come up with an easy learning choice board for my students for the rest of the year. A learning choice board is a table of boxes and each box contains a small activity. There are online games, quizzes, videos, drawing challenges, and reading blocks. As I truly considered what my programming should look like, I realized that French class will not be a priority at home for many parents who need to focus on reading and math. So I'm offering a collection of favourite activities from class and just hoping to keep some French language in my students' heads.
Caleb has been absolutely thriving in his online environment. Every morning from 9am - 10am he meets in an online class to watch his teacher deliver a lesson and interact with his classmates. Afterwards he has about an hour of homework, assignments or a task based on the lesson. Now and then he will get back online in the afternoon for small group work. Earlier this year Caleb took three months to homeschool with me. He loved the self-directed learning, but missed his friends. This new format seems to be exactly what he thrives in. In his own words "This seems much more professional and less like school." Ben seems neither here nor there. Juliette loves to see her friends, and always wants to answer everyone question first. I applaud the French school board - they were able to assess quickly the situation, choose a platform, train their teachers and roll out a program effectively.
We are taking daily walks. I feel like we see more of the neighbours now than we did ever before. It's still strange to take a wide berth around everyone, but there are lots of smiles and nods and greetings, especially to those working in their yards.
Mornings are usually dedicated to school work. Afternoons is outdoor time - sports, games, fort building, roaming in the forest behind the house, sitting by the campfire. Yesterday we ventured out as a family in the car to play "Car-dines" with four other families. Similar to the hide and seek game Sardines, one vehicle drives off and "hides" somewhere in town. Every minute they send out a clue (words or photo) and the other vehicles race to try and discover where the first car is. While waiting for all the cars to show up, conversations through car windows helped us catch up with friends. There was a little competition and a lot of fun.
We listen to the news much less these days. True to its historical pattern and personality, the news is still reporting daily but in a much less urgent way. Debate online rages - we are doing too much, we aren't dong enough. Some things have been suspended indefinitely (church). Some things are suspending two weeks at a time (school, summer sports for the kids). Speculation runs rampant: will schools be back before the end of the year? Will we even be back in September?
New articles from 1918 are circulating, the measures against the Spanish Flu (H1N1) sounding exactly like what we are facing today. What I can't seem to find is how long the measures lasted in order to be "effective" (I'm not sure 50 million worldwide deaths can be deemed effective, but certainly there are reports that cities that locked down hard and early had fewer deaths).
This week I wrote an open letter to parents, as a parent and educator myself. I had a lot of positive feedback from it. I'm including it here.
I am amazed at how normal life seems. We are only a degree off of normal life, and although we are in fact travelling further and further from where we were a month ago, we humans are resilient and adapt to a "new normal" fairly quickly.
***
April 6, 2020
Dear parents,
That was a tough day one. There were new computer programs to learn and passwords that didn’t work. There were files to open and save and submit. There were multiple kids to help navigate. There were language barriers. There was math to reach back 30 years to remember. There were tears and frustration and short tempers. There was a flood of work and assignments and extra practice and websites and passwords.
Today we tried to do school at home, and I think many of us realized we can’t just pick up where we left off.
We as teachers tend to over-plan. We are always worried we aren’t doing enough. And today we might have overdone it, and you might have been overwhelmed.
As a parent of 4 and as a teacher, I realized some things today:
Even a small assignment can take a long time when you aren’t used to it. Be patient and do less.
No one can be successful if there are tears and short tempers. Take a break and do less.
This tech is so very new to everyone. A virtual world can be very organized and still hard to navigate. Go slowly and do less.
We are still in the middle of a health crisis. Stress and anxiety and isolation are creeping in and affecting our focus. Breathe deep and do less.
The weather is finally getting warm. Being inside is hard. Get outside and do less.
The real lesson of today is this: do less. We all jumped in hard today. We are desperate to find normal again. We are desperate to provide for our children. But we need not panic. The kids will be alright. Patient, small steps will still move us forward.
Friday, 3 April 2020
2020 Quarantine - week 3
The reactionary measures to the world pandemic continue to increase. More businesses are closing. Now we can no longer gather at all. Everyone is ordered to stay home. Fines are being levied for blatant disregard of the orders. Schools have been closed for at least another month in Ontario, but in other parts of Canada and the world they are closed until September.
I am finally on the mend. After almost a month my body has fought off the virus within me. As a family we have fully embraced the self-isolation. James is the only one who has left the house, and it is just to bring in food once a week.
We haven't missed connection too much. Zoom is an online video chat app that has taken off. Everyone is using Zoom, FaceTime, Google Hangouts and the like to connect with family. My mom, dad, and sisters have a very active Facebook messenger chat, which helps with the time change to Australia. Although my mom called weekly, and Jennifer and I would text now and then, we know post to the chat many times a day. We share what the kids are doing, how our health is, how life is changing, funny memes and pictures, and just general chat. In a time where people are talking about disconnection, I have found the opposite. Our family is pulling together.
This week we got Juliette on Messenger Kids. This safe online video chat/texting app is helping her connect with her cousins and her friends. I didn't realize how much she was missing her social outlet until this week. She has been having regular tantrums as she finds the older boys playing together and herself left out. We have heard a lot of "I wish I had a sister" this week. And watching my sister Jennifer's girls play, and remembering what it was like growing up with 2 sisters, I know what she means. So instead she will spend and hour or two a day calling everyone, chatting, sharing, laughing. We have seen a lot of improvement in her.
With school being out for another month, we as teachers are all now shifting to "distance learning." This past week has been a crash course in thinking how we can teach and assess online. Every school board in Ontario is running things slightly differently, and I have found ours to be extra challenging. In a time when we have to move online, they seem to be overly cautious about security. Apps and websites we have been using all year are suddenly banned and all my plans are suddenly changing. I'm going to get my students going first on Duolingo. Core French isn't the focus right now - language and math, with a little science and social studies for older students. I am responsible to get students short activities to participate in weekly.
We are spending our time during the days puttering about. I have done a little organizing. I am baking a lot of homemade bread and buns, experimenting with different recipes. The piano is going almost 8 hours a day - Ben, Juliette and Caleb alternate between online programs and actually accessing their mother (a piano teacher for 20+ years). We have campfires out back. We go for daily walks around the neighbourhood, and when we come across the occasional neighbour one of us crosses the road to maintain social distancing. We play board games: Balderdash, Code names, Risk, Monopoly, Clue and Labyrinth are the favourites. We have pulled out a puzzle or two and I'm averaging a book or two a week. We tuned up the bikes and the kids run out now and then to do a neighbourhood loop. Meals have shifted by an hour or two - dinner used to be at 5pm every day, but we often aren't finishing until closer to 7pm.
Next week will start to be a little different as school starts up. The three younger kids will be doing daily online live video classes with their teacher, and then assigned homework to submit each afternoon. It looks completely different from what our school board is doing. Honestly, I'm a little stressed. I've homeschooled before, and I'm a teacher, but it's stressing me out. I am afraid the education community is going to overdo this and scare everyone off. I have had the luxury of watching other teachers around the world plan, prepare and start to deliver distance learning. I started off thinking about grand plans, but as I've reflected on it I have pulled back and back. I am thinking kids and parents will find this stressful, and the more stressful and difficult the less likely they are to engage. We will see, but since we cannot actually evaluate any of this work (it doesn't count toward any report card, and with good reason), I can see parents just opting out of the whole thing.
I'm grateful that they didn't lay us all off as teachers. There was a week where we worried that if they closed schools they would just lay us all off for the rest of the year. I'll gladly help in providing learning opportunities to parents if we get to keep our jobs. But I keep trying to remember that this is not homeschooling, this is a traumatic worldwide event during which we are trying to provide help to students. They are two very different scenarios.
I am finally on the mend. After almost a month my body has fought off the virus within me. As a family we have fully embraced the self-isolation. James is the only one who has left the house, and it is just to bring in food once a week.
We haven't missed connection too much. Zoom is an online video chat app that has taken off. Everyone is using Zoom, FaceTime, Google Hangouts and the like to connect with family. My mom, dad, and sisters have a very active Facebook messenger chat, which helps with the time change to Australia. Although my mom called weekly, and Jennifer and I would text now and then, we know post to the chat many times a day. We share what the kids are doing, how our health is, how life is changing, funny memes and pictures, and just general chat. In a time where people are talking about disconnection, I have found the opposite. Our family is pulling together.
This week we got Juliette on Messenger Kids. This safe online video chat/texting app is helping her connect with her cousins and her friends. I didn't realize how much she was missing her social outlet until this week. She has been having regular tantrums as she finds the older boys playing together and herself left out. We have heard a lot of "I wish I had a sister" this week. And watching my sister Jennifer's girls play, and remembering what it was like growing up with 2 sisters, I know what she means. So instead she will spend and hour or two a day calling everyone, chatting, sharing, laughing. We have seen a lot of improvement in her.
With school being out for another month, we as teachers are all now shifting to "distance learning." This past week has been a crash course in thinking how we can teach and assess online. Every school board in Ontario is running things slightly differently, and I have found ours to be extra challenging. In a time when we have to move online, they seem to be overly cautious about security. Apps and websites we have been using all year are suddenly banned and all my plans are suddenly changing. I'm going to get my students going first on Duolingo. Core French isn't the focus right now - language and math, with a little science and social studies for older students. I am responsible to get students short activities to participate in weekly.
We are spending our time during the days puttering about. I have done a little organizing. I am baking a lot of homemade bread and buns, experimenting with different recipes. The piano is going almost 8 hours a day - Ben, Juliette and Caleb alternate between online programs and actually accessing their mother (a piano teacher for 20+ years). We have campfires out back. We go for daily walks around the neighbourhood, and when we come across the occasional neighbour one of us crosses the road to maintain social distancing. We play board games: Balderdash, Code names, Risk, Monopoly, Clue and Labyrinth are the favourites. We have pulled out a puzzle or two and I'm averaging a book or two a week. We tuned up the bikes and the kids run out now and then to do a neighbourhood loop. Meals have shifted by an hour or two - dinner used to be at 5pm every day, but we often aren't finishing until closer to 7pm.
Next week will start to be a little different as school starts up. The three younger kids will be doing daily online live video classes with their teacher, and then assigned homework to submit each afternoon. It looks completely different from what our school board is doing. Honestly, I'm a little stressed. I've homeschooled before, and I'm a teacher, but it's stressing me out. I am afraid the education community is going to overdo this and scare everyone off. I have had the luxury of watching other teachers around the world plan, prepare and start to deliver distance learning. I started off thinking about grand plans, but as I've reflected on it I have pulled back and back. I am thinking kids and parents will find this stressful, and the more stressful and difficult the less likely they are to engage. We will see, but since we cannot actually evaluate any of this work (it doesn't count toward any report card, and with good reason), I can see parents just opting out of the whole thing.
I'm grateful that they didn't lay us all off as teachers. There was a week where we worried that if they closed schools they would just lay us all off for the rest of the year. I'll gladly help in providing learning opportunities to parents if we get to keep our jobs. But I keep trying to remember that this is not homeschooling, this is a traumatic worldwide event during which we are trying to provide help to students. They are two very different scenarios.
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