A Day in Another Kind of Life

I joked on social media the other day that I felt like we were in some sort of human behavior experiment. Like there is a mad psychologist somewhere watching us on a camera and saying, "Interesting, interesting..... But let's see what happens when we try this."

Sometimes I think I'm being too silent and other times I feel like I'm constantly complaining. I'm not sure which side of that I am landing on with this particular issue, but the more I see our virtual school situation (in our county specifically) labeled as a 'success' in the news and media, the more I realize that, individually, we are so hidden from sight right now that we have to speak up. 

So here goes: This model is not sustainable for our kids. Our teachers are amazing superheroes that pivot and modify and find workarounds to last minute changes on a daily basis even without a pandemic. And they have continued those ninja-like skills during this at-home learning black hole. But it's not enough to make up for the constant upstream swimming necessary for so many learners (especially those who are younger and/or have an IEP). And if we thought teacher burnout was a problem before, this is just expediting and reinforcing it, as they are now often bearing the brunt of student and parent frustration.

In the grand scheme of things though, what's the big deal? An at-home school option sounds like a great alternative to keep us all 'safe'. After all, my (typical, older) child is doing just fine with online learning! (I've come to realize that when the word 'safe' is used these days in regards to school, it actually means 'covid-free'. I disagree with the notion that staying out of schools is 'safe', but that would make this post even longer.) 

Halfway through this second week I decided to start taking 'minutes' throughout our day, just to see if what I was experiencing was really as bad as it felt.

*This was a unique day in the specifics, but not in the overall theme and amount of chaos. The most unique thing about this day was that I finally gave Ruby occasional breaks from the screen. Up until today, we have just powered through.

School hours: 8AM-11:55AM

• 7:56-8:02 - We tried to log in to CTLS on the school tablet, but it after several minutes of waiting to join the class, I checked my email on my personal laptop to find an email from the teacher with a zoom code to use in place of CTLS. Joined class zoom 2 minutes late.
• 8:02-8:16 - Morning meeting (Towards the end it was difficult to keep Ruby in front of the screen as her attentiveness faded as new kids joined and interrupted, also due to long pauses waiting for kids being called on to un-mute themselves and speak.)
• 8:16-8:28 - Class review of rules for digital learning. Ruby was checked out (head down, making sounds with her mouth).
• 8:29-8:31 - Ruby had OT services at 8:30, but CTLS was still not working, so we had to switch to my laptop to retrieve an email from the OT with a link for the zoom. Since it was a link, we had to stay on my laptop for this segment (which continually receives audible notifications not easily turned off at the last minute, which is distracting for Ruby).
• 8:31-8:55 - OT service (working on handwriting). Ruby and the therapist played a game involving generating and writing words starting with a specific letter. I provided physical support for Ruby's writing. 
• 8:55-9:10 - Ruby was resisting rejoining another zoom with her class, so we took a bathroom break and I tried to encourage her.
• 9:10-9:15 - We logged in (back on CTLS now, back on the school provided tablet) while the class was taking an on-screen brain break. Ruby joined in the dancing once I wrangled her in front of the screen.
• 9:15-9:25 - The teacher finished the brain break and told the class that we would pick up with our lesson and start writing based on the book she'd read them while Ruby was in OT. Ruby melted to the ground and said, "no writing!" I had to physically place her in her chair and calm her down, reminding her that I'd help her and that we'd read the book together later. She physically complies, but is lost as she has no context for the conversation/instruction for the assignment as it revolves around the book. I modify the assignment for her and she begins to work.
• 9:30-9:50 - The screen and the constant shifting from teacher to student audio frustrates Ruby to the point of throwing her pencil and saying, "No zoom!" I place a blocker in front of the camera and comfort her as she burst into tears. I remind her that when things are hard, we try harder. (This is her mantra and it helps.) We opt to turn the volume down, keep the screen blocker up and finish our assignment on our own. 
• 9:55-10:20 - We removed the blocker as the class started a math game. Ruby did not want to join in, so it required constant encouragement for her to stay in front of the camera. While she enjoyed the game, the student screen and teacher screen change up made it hard to maintain focus. After 25 minutes, she was starting to flop out of her chair again. I put the screen blocker up and let her sit and independently read for 15 minutes.
• 10:35-10:45 - She resisted returning to the desk to do the math worksheet associated with the lesson (the one we missed while she was reading). This took a lot of coaxing and encouraging.
• 10:45-10:55 - We worked on her math worksheet independently. The class logged off to go to PE (through CTLS, on the tablet).
• 10:58-11:07 - Ruby and I 'waited' in the CTLS waiting room (on the tablet AND my laptop) for almost 10 minutes, checking email the whole time for another link, as we were unable to join/never approved to join. 
• 11:07-11:25 - Ruby and I made up our own PE class.
• 11:25-11:40 - We rejoined her class on CTLS (tablet) and a few kids mentioned not being able to join as well. The teacher started the video for phonics but had to pause several times as they could see some students not participating. (Ruby was losing focus quickly with the pauses.)
• 11:40-11:47 - The teachers' screens dropped out of the zoom. We logged out and back in, changed devices, but each time we rejoined all we saw were the other students trying to do the same. 
• 11:47 - We logged out and did our own phonics lesson to end our day.

Guys, this is happening EVERY day. I know the start of a new school year takes some ramping up and has hiccups, but when those things happen in person, kids have peers to get comfort from and watch for coping strategies. And they have teachers, amazing teachers, for hugs and words of encouragement. Why aren't hugs from mom enough right now? Why can't they just look to siblings or parents for comfort when times are tough? Because they need independence and reassurance that it's not just mom and dad that can help them! Because they need to learn from people other than those they live with (and they do learn differently from other people too, which is necessary)!

And before you say it, I know...Ruby's face-to-face school days are not often easy and perfect. BUT the physical transitions throughout the day, the peer modeling, the multi-sensory approach to instruction, the supports she has through her IEP...these are just a few of the ways that help her stay engaged have a higher success and participation rate.

We currently find ourselves stuck between 'we can't do this anymore' and 'we don't have a choice'. We could pull Ruby out of school and officially home school her, but that decision comes with risks for Ruby. From other parents who have gone before me I know that taking a break to home school takes away the opportunity for data collection to support her ability to succeed in a typical classroom. In other words, if we take Ruby out of the school system, when we return there is a (good?) chance she will not be able to return to the inclusive environment we've worked so hard to achieve.

So here we are.