I’m met with a series of incredulous looks every time I tell someone, “I teach wilderness and outdoor education… on Zoom.” It can be done, dear readers, but it’s hard to pull off. Just yesterday I sent my students away from their screens on a 45-minute bird-watching expedition — just sit and observe the birds in their neighborhoods. Some told me it was “hella boring,” while others told me it was good for their mental health.
I’m a teacher by day (and a journalist by night), and I’ve experienced firsthand how hard this year has been for educators. They are tired, burnt out, and weary on Zoom. And kids are right there with us.
I’ve had bright spots in the year when Zoom education did what it’s supposed to: help young people learn. But I’ve also had difficult moments, and I’ll be honest — the hard moments are hard. At some point, our school stopped trying to fight students on turning on their Zoom cameras (high schoolers can be self-conscious with cameras on). So, I teach to a sea of lifeless squares for the most part. I don’t know if my students are paying attention, scrolling Instagram, or are even there at all. I miss the in-person interaction enough that I even miss sass students dole out.
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Recently, I randomly called on a handful of students to bring in participation. Usually, this trick works to keep them engaged. But not this time, every single student I called on… silence. Crickets. Nada. It stung. I normally click with kids in real life and work hard to build a relationship But relationship building via tiny Zoom squares is difficult. Many of my students come from historically marginalized communities and virtual learning seems to exacerbate existing inequities. In the moment of pure silence, I almost started crying in front of my kids. I just felt the weight of it all. Zoom school. The pandemic. The way virtual learning is failing our most vulnerable students. I choked back tears and wondered if my students saw.
That being said, I’ve had lighthearted moments, usually stemming from when someone doesn’t know they’re not on mute (we’ve all been there). In one, a student’s little brother sweetly asked: “Is your teacher a boy or a girl?” My student chimed in, “Mr. Lyons is a boy” (correctly gendering me). The young boy then jumped in and said “Wow! He really is a boy!” with such excitement. It warmed my heart that this boy didn’t assume, as adults often do; he genuinely just wanted to know and was excited boys could look like me (I’m transgender). My student was deeply embarrassed she’d left her mic on, but I assured her all was well.
Here at The Bold Italic, we set out to ask teachers these same two questions: What’s been your funniest or most joy-filled moment of virtual school this year? And of course, what’s been your hardest one? These answers teachers from all over the Bay Area, representing all ages of students, had quite a lot to say.
Julianna Flores, 32, elementary school teacher, San Jose
As an elementary school teacher, the lack of physical touch and in-person community building has probably been the hardest. Not being able to give a hug or a high five to a six- or seven-year-old to show that everything is going to be alright has been so hard. We do packet pickup and you can just tell they want so badly to have some affection shown between you and them, which, in a typical school year, would be a hug or a high five. This year we have been doing “feet five” where we balance and tap one of our feet with theirs. The students I work with deal with a lot, they live in one of the toughest neighborhoods in San Jose and are faced with many issues. For example, one of my students’ mother passed away, and not being able to hug her and help her through it like I would in a typical school year has been very hard. Young kids are social beings and not being able to play games and share toys in person is a struggle.
The funniest thing about Zoom is just all the cute sayings the kids say. For example, one student will always shout, “Ms. Flores, I can’t see the scream.”…Another funny experience was in a moment when I also try to be silly and play pretend with my students. One time, a student shouted out, “Can we just stop being silly now so I can do math and get off Zoom!!!” It was pretty hilarious to the adults on the call!
Bear Goodson, 22, high school ‘Local Wilderness’ teacher, Oakland
I haven’t had very many acute hard moments. It’s sort of been hard moments, overall… really just the marathon of Zoom school. It’s this ever marching onward towards the next thing to tackle… while the rest of the world continues to turn. It’s been an endurance competition. My friend who has been a teacher for much longer than me said something on Facebook that really resonated with me: He’s used to being able to return grades within a few days and now it’s taking a few weeks. And it’s just because of how much is on our plate just as human beings living in this world as well as being a support for your students who are also going through it.
Goodson and I talked about the difficulties (and hilarity) in teaching their students basket weaving via Zoom. Goodson noted:
One student completed their basket and added a little handle. Sounds silly, but seeing their creativity is rewarding, while others are like, “I couldn’t really figure it out,” and then they send me pictures of this jumbled mess. Honestly, they’re so funny, eighth graders especially. And ninth graders are the funniest people in the world, I’m convinced. Everything is just butt jokes.
Meera Pamidi, 34, middle school special education teacher, San Jose
The hardest thing has been adapting to a sedentary work environment and so much screen time! Teachers are used to the dynamic environment of a school — moving around the classroom constantly, or running to the copy machine or the staff lounge. When I was teaching in person I never sat for more than 20 minutes at a time. Now I find myself sitting for hours and I have to be really intentional and conscious about taking stretch breaks. I’ve also been getting headaches from staring at a computer screen for hours on end.
I will say the amount of connection you can foster over Zoom has been surprising. I love getting a glimpse into students’ lives — seeing their pets, their siblings, and sometimes even cool things in their house…
Every day students tell my co-teachers and I that they are happy to see us, excited for school, and so on. When we do shoutouts, one student always says, “Thank you for being the best teachers and keeping us safe.” Although I wish we could return to in-person learning and meet the students face-to-face, I’m happy that we’ve been able to make connections with students even virtually.
Adam Quintero, 32, elementary assistant principal, Oakland
The hardest moment was the time I completely broke down. We were three weeks into school and everything had to do with schedules. I realized I was already into week three and yet I had not seen a single child or family, been in a classroom, or been in a Zoom class yet. I had seen nothing but spreadsheets, dean’s list, Excel documents, my computer screen. And for me what got me into education was kids…
So I am working my butt off and as assistant principal, you take in most of the complaints from frustrated folks, I’m getting nothing but criticism and critiques about the schedule. I’m not seeing students, and I’m sitting in my “work office,” which is my closet. I just broke down… I was in a second grade meeting and one of the teachers asked a question about the schedule. It was a fair question but I just snapped and said, “We’re not talking about the schedule anymore. We’re done”… I saw everyone’s face on Zoom be like, “Uhhh.”
I don’t ever snap at teachers… I never show frustration, I never lash out at people, if I’m angry, I don’t show it, I’m even-keeled. But I just snapped… And then my principal followed up with me saying, “I don't think you're taking care of yourself in the way that you want to.” And it was just a moment of… I broke down, I cried. I don’t want to be looked at as someone who lashes out at people. Since then I’ve established really clear boundaries. Since then, I got back into (virtual) classrooms. The moment I got back into classrooms… I’ve become much happier.
I love being a part of younger grade classrooms and seeing kids do the most random things. One time, a girl in a second grade math class was just sitting there doing her work, when this bird just flies in and lands on her pencil. It’s a long pencil and the bird is just sitting there. She’s just continuing to work and then the bird lands on her hand. I just laughed. Kids are trying so hard to stay focused when they have all these little gadgets and distractions around them. We also had to talk to kids about wearing shirts on Zoom.
Reynaldo Dulaney, 31, high school ethnic studies, San Francisco
I think crisis teaching as a whole experience has been “the hardest.” However, if I was to pinpoint one specific time, it would have to be last Monday when I cried on camera, in front of my students. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of how much I missed my classroom, missed scholars being in the space, and missed in-person teaching. This class was comprised of students I taught last year, so I’ve had the pleasure of getting to teach them for two years. However, I don’t get to celebrate their progress like I could before. I don’t get to share my lunch with them, listen to them talk about their teenage problems, and hold space for them. Of course, I do something similar to that via distance learning, but the relational piece of teaching is definitely strained.
I teach ninth grade ethnic studies, and after every class, I have students that stay and talk on Zoom for upwards to 30 minutes. This is the time where they ask all their questions, get additional assistance on classwork, solicit my opinions on things, and where we bond with each other. I choose this time as my joyful moment because this is when they turn their cameras on voluntarily, and I get to watch them bond and learn together. Questions have ranged from “Mr. Dulaney, what’s going on with the election, I’m scared?” to “If I wear waist beads, is that cultural appropriation?” and “Mr. Dulaney, should I cut this friend off?”
Top moment: When a student said, “Y’all, let’s all turn our cameras on, on three.” She counted down and then I got to see eight faces of my young people for the first time. Of course, I had a massive “momma bear” moment and felt all of the feelings.
Emily Tait, 42, elementary school teacher, Grass Valley
The hardest part of teaching in a pandemic, for me, is the knowledge that a lot of our kids are missing the safety and consistency school provides. All kids are losing so much this year, but there are those that really need school for the relationships, consistency, and safety it provides. It can be heartbreaking.
Seeing my little hybrid group of six back to school in-person for the first time in almost eight months and watching them interact with one another. They are SO happy to be back together. They all have been so kind to one another and include everyone in any conversation or play (from six feet away, of course). It’s pretty adorable to watch.
