Virtual school began for my daughters on March 23rd. We have been living the virtual school life for two months now and with only a week left, we are near the finish line. The finish line of what has felt like the longest, slowest race of our lives. And this is one race in which everyone deserves a participation medal.
I applaud our school district’s efforts to create our virtual school from basically nothing. They MacGyvered our distance learning system in two weeks, hobbling together bits and pieces from existing online applications that were part of the school routine already. They set up Microsoft Teams to connect the students to their teachers and those teachers scrambled to change their lesson plans and find creative ways to adapt to a virtual classroom they had zero time to prepare for. The teachers and administrators called an audible in the 4th quarter and they deserve a hefty bonus for it.
But this isn’t homeschooling. It’s crisis education.
Because let’s be honest. The kids aren’t really learning anything. Yes, they are logging on every day and trying their best to complete their lessons. But with very-little-to-no classroom instruction, interaction, or reinforcement, they are just going through the motions. The school day has been reduced to checking a task off on their to-do list and moving on.
My daughters attend a performing arts middle school. Which means that in addition to language arts, math, science and history, they also have fairly intensive arts instruction. While my creative writing student has fared ok-ish, my theatre student’s education has suffered more. Studying theatre requires a fair amount of physical, in-person interaction. Her teachers have done their best in a bad situation, but without the benefit of being in the physical space of the theater and not being able to collaborate with her peers it’s difficult, if not impossible.
I’m fortunate that while I work from home, my middle school daughters have needed very little help from me. They log on and just get their work done and I’m able to get my work done with almost no interruption. I know how lucky I am because I have friends with elementary school children who cry wine-filled tears daily, trying to get their littles to sit in front of the computer and do anything. I don’t know that I would have that kind of dedication. I don’t know that I wouldn’t have just locked myself in a closet and let the chaos go on without me.
Those are just the parents who are privileged enough to be home in the first place. To all the parents who are dealing with their kids struggling through virtual learning while having to leave the house and go to work every day in this crazy new world, you deserve a free pass. If your kids are healthy, fed, and even attempt any work while you’re gone and unable to help them, you have already won. Many of you are relying on older siblings to watch the younger ones, or turning to a patchwork network of family, friends, and neighbors to survive. You don’t deserve or need the extra stress and pressure, but you do deserve all the applause.
I’ve already conceded to my children that their grades this semester mean very little to me. My mom-bar has been set fairly low and I’m not feeling one ounce of guilt about it. I was never a tiger-mom to begin with, but this pandemic has given me a new perspective and reduced my level of caring about grades to an all-new low.
“Just don’t fail please. If you just complete the assignments you’ll probably at least get a C.”
I have given all the fucks I could possibly give about this school year and there are simply none left to give.
Yes, our children are going to be behind at the start of the new school year. Let’s accept that reality because cramming in one more IReady Math lesson isn’t going to make a difference. This has been a good effort in a challenging time, but it’s time to wave the white flag and call it a day.
We all tried. We truly did. Administrators, teachers, parents, kids. We all gave it the best effort we could muster in a situation we never could’ve imagined. Let’s just pat ourselves on the back and shut down the computers. Grownups grab your adult beverage of choice and let the kids loose.
Cheers!
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This post was previously published on A Parent Is Born and is republished here with permission from the author.
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