I have a confession. I’ve always wanted to be able to teach in my pyjamas. The idea of staying home, unshaven and not having to face the organized chaos that is any public school has always had an appeal. And now, 30-plus years into my career, look where I find myself.
Truth to tell, I imagined more of a Hugh Hefner silk robe thing, but the flannel pants and cotton tee shirt will have to do. This teaching from my dining room table is turning out to be pretty comfortable so far. I make myself a nice cup of coffee and stroll to the office. My 10-minute commute is now 10 steps.
Of course, the day doesn’t have the same rhythms as a “typical” school day. Teachers develop a Pavlovian response to bells: They ring and we take a deep breath and start into out patter, “Get your stuff out, class. Yes, Suzy, you may go to your locker. Bob, there are extra pens on my desk. No, Jason, I don’t believe your dog ate your homework.” And so it goes until the bell rings to mark the end of the day.
But there are no bells in the dining room and no one asking me any questions. Of course, there are 72 emails in my inbox and four requests for “Google Meets” but those requests are blessedly quiet. I can get to them in my own sweet time.
Although students may be learning a little differently than usual, there are all sorts of lessons we are all taking through this:
“You can teach an old dog new tricks.” Yes, it’s true. Teachers who have been technologically averse have had to learn new platforms and media to find novel ways to communicate with their students. I didn’t even know that “Google Meets” was a thing before last week. Now, it trips off the tongue with ease: “Let’s do a Google Meet and talk about that.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention.” You can no longer believe that there’s only one way to present information when that one way gets taken from you. Lessons, projects, and information that we’ve reliably taught for years are now being repackaged into a different— although not necessarily better — form.
“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.” The school day is normally manic. We are continually meeting deadlines and squeezing into time-frames. Our days are amorphous now.
I know that this is a pause. Sometime, maybe not until September, we’ll be back into the old habits. But in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy this. Hmm, I wonder if I can order a silk robe on Amazon.
Paul Demers is a long-time Squamish resident and high school teacher.
