My direst predictions for last week for our students did not come true.
At least for most of my students, they did not come true. There are some with health scares in the family, or nearby; I keep telling them to focus on what matters to them, and that it shouldn’t be one of my courses. They listen, they take time away, and then return, and appear eager to get back on board with their work.
The student work I have seen and the curiosity to find materials to work on their final projects has amazed me.
I’m not sure how I would have reacted at their age to All Of This. I always thought of myself as someone who would keep her cool in moments of crisis, but I never really had a chance to test that. [insert hollow laughter] We’re now twenty-three days into this remote learning gig. I have not missed a class, or a blog post. I’m behind on giving feedback (there are some certainties in life). I’ve shared with other educators through this blog, and on twitter, some ideas about my approach, my philosophy, and practical tips, as well as the odd beer or Scotch over Zoom, and I’ve learned a lot from them, about being a better teacher and a better human. I have kept up with my daily research productivity streak. I’ve not missed meals, and I am exercising regularly and keeping up with flute lessons and practice. But this is a slow smoldering crisis, and the true test is about endurance. Three weeks may be nothing. Only time will tell, but I’m feeling less like the untrained rookie at mile five of a marathon than I did last week. Maybe I can live up to that self-image after all.
And spring has truly sprung. Trees and bushes are blossoming, and it’s a total riot of variations on pink out there on my walks through the West End. The birds are singing, the squirrels are flirting, the fat bumblebee queens are looking for nesting spots. That gives me hope, too. I love big fat bumblebees.
