When our virtual staycation ended, and it was time to return to the new “school” week, Jack wondered how Ms. Porcupine would pull it all together again. I could see it in his eyes. It was one thing to have a hiatus from the traditional school setup for a couple of weeks, but it was quite another to turn the entire system of learning around for the purpose of building weekly lessons that emphasize continuity and stamina, essential pieces for teaching and learning.
Let it be stated that all of the quick activities had lost their luster; they had been overtaken by a week of lounging, playing video games, and chatting with friends virtually- through the evening hours. The Crown, on Netflix, had now taken hold of my interests, too. We were zoning out! I suddenly really felt the weight of parents and educators during this time, especially parents (like so many of us) who are juggling working from home while trying to deliver content from digital resources assigned from our wonderful teachers. Simultaneously, I could only imagine the enormous weight of educators trying to assemble something cohesive online, for six weeks, in less than a week’s time.
While the stress levels, for so many, are at their height, every conversation I have had lately from friends, family members, and colleagues reveals a hidden beauty and strength within such confines. If we are teaching our children anything special at this time, I can assure you that we are exposing them for the first time (in a long time) to the “everyday” heroes that our culture has left behind for far too long. Celebrities, now suddenly and abruptly, have equalized with their beautiful counterparts: the volunteers; the teachers attempting the impossible; doctors and nurses on the front lines- overextended and in harm’s way; Priests and nuns- worn out from the extensive toll on administering to families who will never get a chance to say goodbye to their loved ones; parents and siblings overstretched with resources; underfed in urban and rural areas; citizens scared for what may come and how to be. The list continues.
So, what to do was at the forefront of my mind this Holy Week. I put the morning and afternoon work cycles back into place for my son. He received wonderful support and directions for his week’s work from the local school where he attends. We mapped out different times to share our one computer for work and “school” time. Something had changed from the first weeks, and it certainly wasn’t the lack of resources or the willingness to be imaginative in uncertain times. I now felt less pressure to perform as a teacher for him, since the teachers were now holding virtual “school” meetings and assigning great resources. Again, just like with the Gym class in the last blog, the learning was not synchronizing as it should. That is because LEARNING is a very human endeavor. It takes authentic interactions to feel in sync. This new kind of learning, while effective, lacks the human connection vital to human understanding and material connection.
What to do?
During Holy Week, we took time, in our day, to reflect and reconnect with the Divine. One moment that stands out is our recitation of the Jewish prayer, The Shema. This is a morning and evening prayer that gives everything over to and accepts the divine will over any other will. What I enjoyed sincerely about this experience is that it conjured up moments, from my twenties, when my husband would teach me the Hebrew prayers of his religion during the holidays, different from mine. The words all came rushing back and gave a sense of safety and interconnected beauty that my son sensed, in his mother, as we recited, The Shema and learned the language of this sacred prayer. Jack and I decided to learn the Hebrew and state it aloud. It took us about an hour to get the words just right. This act inspired us even more to explore other languages. He also learned it is possible to read sentences from back to front. That amazed him. This one prayerful act took me by surprise as well.
******** Learning changes in digital spaces. The way that learning becomes more authentic is to let it flow where the learning desires to go. My one recommendation, during this time of distance-learning, is to say yes to an "almost" on course distance-learning program being provided with the wonderful resources and Google virtual classroom chats available to students (and becoming more available each day to students in need by districts stepping up and providing tablets), but for true engagement with the self and learning, we must allow the exploration to reach places we would not have in the standard face-to-face classroom, or we risk it feeling artificial, like the screens in front of us delivering the content. Stating the ancient Hebrew prayer in its original language during Holy Week allowed something innately special to shine within my son and me; it brought a sense of peace to the day that would not have happened in the traditional school day in such a culturally astute manner; where culture, language, and knowledge intersect to create a learning experience truly remembered by a mother and her son.
I decided to take this free-flow learning a step further. Learning at-ease, I am know calling the process, works a bit like jumping off of a short, but manageable, rocky cliff and shaking one's hair all about as one reaches the bottom, due to the invigoration just felt. We had a clay activity planned for the break period between science and math interactive videos. I pulled out an origami paper-folding book for inspiration of animals we’d like to create out of clay. There were wonderful pictures in this book, so I could use the book for two or three activities in the week; visual inspiration, paper-folding techniques, or character visual play. I decided on the last one for the day's work. Characters-at-visual play allowed me to venture off of the lesson plans just enough to make them meaningful, as I have so many times, in my twenty years teaching, to meet the needs of the moment rather than to follow the scripted work at play. We began listening to some upbeat Reggae music, in the background, and set our digital timer to twenty minutes for the intended art activity.
Then I realized: How was I going to help my son connect this art activity to his reading comprehension required in the “school” for continuity and stamina to resurface? The question posed, at the beginning of our week, as we were attempting to get back into the groove of things was looming over me. Albeit, as I continued to allow the learning to go where it so desired, the afternoon turned into a wacky association of spiders and turtles representing the characters in Jack’s assigned reading for the week.
Many educators use mnemonic memory devices for increasing student comprehension. Why couldn’t the hands-on clay turtles and spiders serve us in another dimension of learning? We tried this, and I must say, to my surprise, Jack began to smile and forget about begging me to have one more hour of gaming like he had during his “spring” break. The pressure was lifting slowly but surely. It wasn’t now just some fun activity that mom was doing to pass time more constructively. Rather, the moment shifted naturally to a connection or study technique for Jack’s Language Arts classes; making connections of wacky non-associated things with a serious non-fiction narrative worked beautifully in taking off the edge of distance-learning and helped to support his study techniques for longer-term learning.
Letting learning go where it so desires is what I am left with as my mantra for the following weeks ahead. I hope something this beautifully rich in academics or spirituality touches those who try this methodology as well. One thing is for certain, the enhanced reading comprehension and less anxiety expressed by kids can certainly ease the classroom virtual chats and (in turn) inspire all of the everyday heroes out there, our kids and teachers included.
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