Day #105 Writing Through COVID-19: School, COVID, Secrets

I spent considerable time thinking about teaching today. 

Last evening I contacted an old friend who now works in Gov. Reynolds' office as an education liaison (something like that). I'd been looking at the IDOE site for guidance on how to step up our schools' anti-racist response to social justice issues. I have seen bold statements from the Des Moines Public Schools and Sioux City Schools asserting that Black Lives Matter and addressing systemic inequities. But rural, mostly white districts like mine have not yet moved to the starting blocks. We need assistance to address policies that have sustained inequity.

When I checked the IDOE site, I saw many committees and task forces, but none related to racial equity and social justice. I asked my friend what the governor's office was doing to help schools during this important and painful time.

She responded this morning with the following: 

"The Department of Education is working to bring together resources to support schools in addressing social justice and racial equity. The State Board of Education also is working on next steps. We will have more information available this fall, if not sooner."

I hope sooner.

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Also this morning, a new colleague in the English department called with questions about the curriculum and accessing tech services. We both wondered aloud how our discussion-based classes would function with distancing recommendations, which I've heard include all students facing the same direction.

We know our district has prepared three return-to-learn plans for how we will teach in various scenarios. But none of the plans has been rolled out to the teachers yet.
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My math-teacher daughter in Colorado learned today that when students are allowed to return to the building, her district will use a modified schedule to limit passing time, which is when there is likely to be the highest transmission of the virus. Students will be given a block schedule, with one class in the morning, another in the afternoon. They'll rotate through their eight classes and over four days, then begin the sequence again. 

I can't say that I LIKE that plan, necessarily, but I do like that it's a PLAN. My daughter said her superintendent rolled it out articulately, explaining the reasoning behind the decision, while acknowledging that no plan is without drawbacks. 
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Around noon I got an email from my school and hoped it would reveal some progress on our plans. It was a communique explaining that we will hold a modified Prom on July 11. Students will participate in the traditional Grand March across the auditorium stage, for an audience comprised of two guests for each participant. The guests will be distanced in the auditorium. 

The students will then enjoy a sit-down meal in the gymnasium, served by masked and gloved waiters. After this, they will be entertained by a hypnotist. 

As I understand it, there will be no dancing.

I appreciate the work people are doing to lift spirits and find ways to safely re-engage in activities. But I'm simply not there yet. I am too consumed by the reality of this virus--manifested at the moment by my lonely (symptom-free!) husband (upstairs).
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My second daughter, who spent the past 10 months in Spain, has just returned to--of all places--Jacksonville Florida, where the virus is rampant. Florida is one of three states that remains under a military travel ban of 150 miles, which means she and her husband may not be allowed to travel to New York for his sister's wedding--an event that has already been scaled back to a whisper of what was originally planned. 
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My dear friend Emma gave birth to a beautiful baby boy yesterday. I could not, in good conscience, visit her, with COVID Dan in my living space. I'm not sure if the hospital is even allowing visitors. 

I'm writing this down because I don't want to forget how during COVID-19 we shifted, recalibrated, reversed, and rethought thousands of choices and actions. 
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When I called my parents today, my mom said she was playing a game of Doodle Dice with my niece that was "all luck, no brains." I heard resentment in her tone--not directed at my niece, or even the game, but maybe at her own brain.

"I'm looking forward to you coming back to the farm in 10 days," I said.

"Oh?" she asked, "I didn't know that! Thank you for telling me." She sounded as if I was finally letting her in on a secret everyone else has been keeping from her.

I'll let her in on the secret again tomorrow.

Enough.
Be well.
Write.

Allison