I’m a Teacher and a Remote Learning Scares Me

I’m trying hard to make Remote Learning work for my students. But maybe I shouldn’t be.

It goes without saying, this is a crazy, unprecedented time. Everyone’s lives are in limbo as we watch the numbers of the graph climb ever upwards. But in spite of all this, I do believe that someday, this crisis will pass.

When it does, I hope we can all go back to school. Back to our routines and schedules and annoying staff meetings and photocopier jams. Back to human interaction, unexpected joy and overwhelming frustration. Back to the buildings that smell like gum and floor wax, where we take young human minds and shape them into baby adults who will one day run the world.

I’m scared because school leaders in our state are stumbling over themselves to brag about how well remote learning is going. And I have a growing fear that the better remote school goes, the less likely we are to ever return back to the old model.

My high school students are always a little antsy on Friday afternoons — aren’t we all?

But Friday, March 13 felt different. Every hour, there was a news update about another school closing. Some were closing for a few days, some for two weeks.

By the end of the day, our district hadn’t made any announcements. When the students filed out the door, our “See you Monday!” was more of a “See you Monday?”

On Saturday, we got a message from the superintendent cancelling school for two weeks. Since then, we’ve gotten more messages and more cancellations, and as things stand now, I’ll be back in my classroom in September at the earliest.

We have been allowed into the building to pick up materials a few times and it’s kind of a spooky place. There are sweatshirts and lunch boxes carelessly tossed, and wrinkled posters on the wall advertising Art Club meetings and fundraisers.

Overnight, my job changed from one I know well to one I have no idea how to do. I have a laptop and each of my students have laptops. It’s been a steep and lonely learning curve, as I turn my bedroom into my home office/classroom and struggle to find and learn new apps and programs.

Three weeks ago, I got an email with the subject line “A Message from the Governor” and it was a link to a PDF letter praising educators in my state for “rising to the occasion” and “embracing this new environment.”

When I started thinking about this new environment, my thoughts took a dark turn. This new environment is one where teachers do their jobs from home, connecting with students through videos and chat windows. It’s one where virtual check-ins and video lessons substitute for classroom activities.

I know we — and by we, I mean parents, teachers, students and policymakers — are working hard to make remote learning work. But maybe we shouldn’t be.

If the next few months go well, it will be an opportunity for budget-conscious school boards and penny-pinching politicians to reduce public school spending even further. Why fully fund classrooms, clubs and cafeterias when students can just learn from the comfort of their own homes?

I love schools. I love bright, breezy libraries and gymnasiums with banners from championship teams hung on the walls. I love the art projects and the murals and the fresh smell of new paint every fall.

But let’s face it: schools are expensive and wasteful. They are buildings that are used for only part of the day for part of the year. They are designed for every single students all at the same time. They are mostly empty on weekends, evenings and summers.

As a teacher, I don’t want to see any of that change. I want to go back to my Monday-Friday routine of planning classes, meeting with students and families and plastering my classroom with posters and student work.

But as a taxpayer who pays more than a luxury SUV payment each month in school taxes, I wouldn’t be opposed to saving some cash as long as students were still learning and teacher contracts were approved.

Remote learning is a glimpse into a totally new model of education. If it turns out to be effective — if students keep learning, teachers keep rising to the occasion and wifi signals remain strong, school as we remember it may be a way of the past.

Our new model of education might be one where students only attend school every other day. Or maybe there are morning, afternoon and evening sessions. Students might come to school for some classes, like PE and Art, but stay home and take math and reading remotely.

There might be teachers who work exclusively from home, relying on Zoom meetings and youtube videos to connect with students.

Students might come to school by appointment only, like visiting the doctor or dentist.

On one hand, I love thinking creatively and solving problems in new ways. These changes could improve student equity and remove barriers to education.

On the other hand, I hate remote teaching. My students hate remote learning.

Yes, I’m teaching them about genetics, photosynthesis and (appropriately) pathogens — I’m a science teacher after all. Yes they are doing assignments online and getting the answers right.

But the best things about being a teacher are gone. There are no wild, book-waving discussions about the ethics of cloning. In the midst of this public health crisis, I can’t talk freely with groups of students in the hallways, helping them navigate this tough time. I can’t show them chemical reactions or take them outside for a quick walk to look at clouds.

Everything we do takes place on a screen. They can’t smell or touch anything. I can’t read their body language or look down the hallway to see if they are excited to be coming to class or dragging themselves in after a long night of video games.

Instead, we’re left with pixelated, flat images of each other from the shoulders up. Even with a good connection, there’s a speech lag which makes getting your point across difficult at best. For shy students, shouting into a computer while everyone is looking at the glare off their foreheads because of the overhead light in their bedroom is the ultimate nightmare.

And so the comments are unspoken, the questions are unanswered, ideas are unshared. The social cues are unnoticeable and the usual body language and facial cues that I use to tell when kids are getting it are gone.

So what I want to tell the governor is this: For the students I have right now, I am going to do my best. I’ll post my youtube videos and create online quizzes. But don’t think I’m suggesting that this new environment is one that I approve of.

Schools do more than just shove content into students so that they can do well on the SATs. Schools are where kids turn into people, where ideas flourish and where the seeds or our society are nurtured into thinkers, workers and givers.

I appreciate the pause we are taking right now to ensure our health and safety. But let’s make sure it’s just a pause and not the first step in a whole new direction.

For more of my thoughts about school, try these: