I WAS BACK IN THE CLASSROOM TODAY...

September 21st, 2020, for the first time since February, so it my first day in a classroom in over six months and my first, POST COVID.  

It was with a great deal of trepidation, that I opened those front doors to my assigned school, this morning. Although I had read thirty-one pages of protocol procedures to be followed, because of Covid, I still wasn't entirely sure of what to expect.

What did I see and experience? I can't even begin to describe it, it was almost surreal. This is after our schools have been open two weeks.  The kinks have been ironed out, but while it is still a work in progress, I admit, the whole school day, while so TOTALLY different from anything I have EVER experienced in five decades of being in the education system... blew me away with its efficiency, practicality, and total committment of ALL those involved, to making our schools a safe and secure place for children, and yet allowing them to BE children, to laugh, to play, to learn, to grow, physically, mentally, socially and emotionally, with their peers and their teachers.

THE BIGGEST adjustment, for me, was wearing a facial mask the entire day,even while outside on duty. My heart goes out to healthcare workers, and ALL those who wear these masks for eight to ten hours a day. God bless and keep you!

The other "new" things were NOT being to able to drink water; feeling frustrated that my students NOT understand me, since my words to them in a second language, were muffled by my mask.  It was NOT being to able to chat with my teaching colleagues in the staff room, because numbers were limited to four people; it was NOT having the interaction between students in the hallways, as "classroom bubbles" are in the hallways only when no other class is, or a class bubble follows another class bubble. It was NOT recognizing some who spoke to me, because of their facial mask. I could go on and on, about how the atmosphere, noise, ambiance, routines, procedures, hustle and bustle of a school day, have changed.  What choice do we have though? We must ensure we keep these darlings as safe as possible. 

What did NOT change?  My chance to touch a freckled face, and point out "les taches de rousseur."  My chance to point out a dimple in a sweet little cheek, and tell her she had a "faussette", which was a "trait visible", for her writing assignment.  My chance to look a blue eyed scamp in the eye and tell him to STOP using his mask as a pretend slingshot.  My chance to help another find HIS lost mask, trampled and dirty on the floor.  My chance to compliment another "firecracker" who worked so hard all day and who was so pleased when I complimented her on her good choices, that she wanted me to write a note to her father, which I did, GLADLY. My chance to bond with these eight and nine year olds, and my chance to chuckle, knowing she wasn't hurt, but because she is a "drama queen", when after falling on a climbing apparatus, declared, "My private parts are going to explode!" 

While I may have been physically exhausted when I left at the end of the day, I was emotionally, socially and mentally fulfilled, because I spent the day being a t-e-a-c-h-er, and that has always been a privilege.