Connection Error, No More

Remember this... Zoom open, half of your class staring at you.  A revamped lesson using updated programs suited specifically for "Covid-friendly" learning.  Eight different tabs open.  Social emotional check in (slash attendance checker) up and waiting for students to join the Zoom session.... then there it is... "Connection Error".  How fitting, you mumble to yourself, but no worries.  You are a superhero.  At least according to the some news outlets.  And you are.  Because you quickly pivot (a new educational buzzword courtesy of Covid), and you transfer lesson components to a new format in under 60 seconds, just in time for the last student to join Zoom.

Phew.  That was just first period.  Feeling a little PTSD? 

Last school year taught us many things.  We learned new technologies.  We learned new instructional strategies.  We learned new procedures.  We learned how to process and navigate emotions and stress that was unknown to even the most veteran teacher.  And despite being touted as superheroes in the media, we also learned how human we really all are.  It became more glaring that no technology, nor program, nor fancy spreadsheet can ever replace the magic of the connections that can happen within the school walls.  In a career where connection is the center hub of the wheel that keeps all moving parts feel relevant, disconnection becomes the kryptonite.  And when brand new moving parts are added, things can quickly fall into a tailspin.  

In a world that feels increasingly divided, I try to stay centered in the fact that I can only control what I can control.  And after a very unique and chaotic year filled with many ups and downs, I would be lying to say that I didn't start to feel disconnected.  I've always said that one of the best parts of the teaching profession is you are presented with a fresh start each year.  And a fresh start with a hard hit on the reset button is what educators across the nation needed more than ever.

Now we are three weeks into the new school year.  Exhausted still, but if you squint hard enough, you can see a light.  My light is already knowing most of my students' names because I see the same ones each and every day in my classroom.  My light is seeing students work together, talking and laughing.  My light is hearing new perspectives and intellectual opinions of a future generation who have built more resilience and flexibility at their age than some past generations.  My light is being present and being reminded to ignore the noise and just teach.

Our light is the connection.  And the restoration is in progress.

This year is still far from normal, but we have been given a small gift these past few weeks.  We have been given the opportunity to breathe life into the connection that was lost.  We are together, in one space, for the first time since March 2020.  As we continue moving forward, with what still feels like one eye closed, it is our responsibility to intentionally power up those connections again because the faces in front of us deserve it.  Because while we cannot control the outside world, we can control the inside of our classroom.

So it's okay to take off the cape that no one was prepared to wear, and be a human again.  

Reboot the connections, and recharge the power.

And, have a little fun again, while you're at it.