My husband and I have found ourselves posing as unaccredited teachers for night class AKA at our dining room table, after dinner, in these trying days of 2020. I sucked at Geometry 45 years ago, so you can imagine the results today. Our girls aren’t seeing any offers from Harvard while they eat chips wearing not washed enough pajamas in their bed with their Chromebooks daily, but what they are seeing is teachers who genuinely care, teachers who are dedicated to them and offering help at every turn. They are seeing what it means to improvise, to be versatile and to deal with tough curve balls that life will throw out again and again .They are seeing how to make the best of a bad situation and roll with the changes. Lessons far more important to my husband and I then the circumference of a circle. What our girls do not see is their teachers sitting in front of three computers, responsible for over 100 minds to shape and keep engaged, each and every day. Teaching to empty classes, longing for why they worked for that teaching degree, to teach and interact with and get to know those more than 100 minds, personally.
Our educators weren’t trained for this. There is no degree in pandemic training, and even if there was, there was little or no time to prepare. They aren’t paid any overtime, they aren’t able to hand a substitute a lesson book if they are feeling sick, and I just bet, that many of them are teaching night school at their dining room tables after dinner too. TEACHERS, YOU ARE THE ROCK STARS!