I've decided to do a short series on this dusty blog. I'll be writing some vignettes about how my various roles in the world have changed during the COVID-19 pandemic. Today I'll start with the original focus of this blog: teaching. (Shout out to Allison for prompting me to write again!)
"I will show you grace. Please do the same for me." On Tuesday I made a short video on Zoom to load into my Moodle class for my Composition I students. We were exactly halfway through our semester when we parted ways for spring break, the coronavirus usually a second-place news story behind the primary election season. "Enjoy your time away!" I said as they walk about the door. And then, as we all know, things changed quickly. First we heard that the campus leaders were monitoring the situation. Then we would extend spring break for a week. Finally, we would finish classes online for the rest of the semester. On Thursday, March 19 (10 days ago? 30 days ago? a lifetime ago?), I sat in my car in the grocery store parking lot and wept as I realized that at that time I should have been packing my bag and leaving campus after a day of teaching. Instead, I was stockpiling like some kind of character in a dystopian novel, purchasing weird-shaped square spaghetti noodles and feeling guilty for taking the last container of oatmeal. I do teach online already, and I don't hate it. But I don't love it. It's difficult to convey my personality and genuine care for my students through a computer screen. Even though it's 2020, I still prefer writing comments on papers with a fine-point marker (blue or green, never red.) I look forward to talking with my students before class about Brooklyn Nine-Nine and our favorite live music. At the end of the semester, I offer a "high five, handshake, or hug" at the door. As an instructor, I think I'm better in person. And this teaching during the pandemic brings an entirely new layer, doesn't it? A student emails that an assignment will be submitted late because he had to help his sister pack up her dorm room because their parents are sick. Is it the virus? I wonder. But I don't ask. Another student wants to write a paper about the causes of the "unnecessary hype" about the pandemic. I bristle as I read his idea, thinking of the anxious texts I read that morning from my brother, a doctor in Des Moines who feels as if he's "in the boat before D-Day." So I made a video that talked about grace. Because I think that shall be the theme for the rest of my semester. My feedback might not be as thorough. You might turn in an assignment a bit late. Maybe some weeks we won't have many assignments because I just want you to take your time writing. But still, we will write.
3 Comments
3/28/2020 01:26:42 pm
Oh, Kim. THANK you for coming to the page. Your writing is always filled with strong, specific images. I'm in that car outside the grocery store. I'm holding that blue or green (not red!) pen.
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Lauren Stephens
3/28/2020 07:47:53 pm
Oh, I love your final paragraph. It's incredibly refreshing each time I read about a teacher who is focusing on what they feel actually matters: their students and their wellbeing. We can provide space for them during this and after this to think, write, and talk. That is the important work teachers do. Thank you for this.
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Britt Jungck
3/28/2020 10:16:06 pm
Your fierce determination shines through every word. I hear your words expressing fear and insecurity, but your tone is 100% strength.
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