A strange and sad day as schools around the country waved farewell to their students - children, teenagers and young adults who make up a huge part of our lives.
Today I had to hold an assembly for Years 12,13 and 14 to say goodbye to most of them for the foreseeable. Many have elevated medical risks and for others, our amazing parents have freed up essential spaces within our now skeleton staffing system to allow the most vulnerable young people and key worker's children to stay in school.
When I first said that schools would be closed on Monday, there were some who said "yesssss" and others who whooped. A few seemed a bit baffled.
"School on Tuesday then?" said one lad.
"No school on Tuesday."
Friday then?
But we'll be back before Easter?
No? After Easter then?
"Abbie," said one of the staff team, gesturing to a young man. "We were talking earlier and he was wondering if you could explain what 'indefinite' means."
"It means that we don't know when school will be open again. But schools will open again, I promise. We will see each other again. We just don't know exactly when yet."
It almost felt like the summer holidays. The sun shone and the kids cleared their lockers while staff photocopied home learning packs. But beneath the busyness a quiet sadness and anxiety ran through each and every one of us.
And then it was 3pm and time to go. Students were subdued as they left school for maybe the last time. I teach one very autistic young man who struggles with touch and communication; he gave his LSA an enormous hug before getting on his bus. Another boy had tears in his eyes and one girl in Y11 turned to a member of staff and said "But we will be back before leavers day won't we?"
We left quickly once our students had left, knowing that we were entering a time entirely unprecedented in our experience as educators.
We will be back on Monday morning, ready to support those who are still in school.
We will be back on Monday morning, ready to support those who are helping the nation stem the spread of this virus by staying safely in their homes.
We will be back on Monday morning, ready to ensure that food is provided for our most vulnerable, that education in whatever form necessary is available to those who need it.
We will be back on Monday morning, ready to support one another when we fall ill, when our families fall ill, when we face whatever is on its way towards us.
What REALLY matters?
Community.
Colleagues, students, parents and families. We are in this together. We will all support one another and we will get through this together, even when it seems that we are apart.
Connection.
How to maintain connection with those who, just a few days ago, we spent 6 hours a day working and learning alongside? Many of my colleagues are in 12 week social distancing mode and I don't expect to see many of my students for at least 3 months. How do I support my students when school is closed? How can we as colleagues support one another when we are at a distance?
Communication.
Whether it is a wave across the park, a phonecall, a video call, a text message, a letter, an email, a card, a conversation at an appropriate distance, I am determined to keep communicating and sharing my experiences of these happenings. I cannot stomach the strangeness of these times, so I will not swallow them down but let them out and share them with others who are likely feeling the same.
Stay well my friends.
See you soon.
Today I had to hold an assembly for Years 12,13 and 14 to say goodbye to most of them for the foreseeable. Many have elevated medical risks and for others, our amazing parents have freed up essential spaces within our now skeleton staffing system to allow the most vulnerable young people and key worker's children to stay in school.
When I first said that schools would be closed on Monday, there were some who said "yesssss" and others who whooped. A few seemed a bit baffled.
"School on Tuesday then?" said one lad.
"No school on Tuesday."
Friday then?
But we'll be back before Easter?
No? After Easter then?
"Abbie," said one of the staff team, gesturing to a young man. "We were talking earlier and he was wondering if you could explain what 'indefinite' means."
"It means that we don't know when school will be open again. But schools will open again, I promise. We will see each other again. We just don't know exactly when yet."
It almost felt like the summer holidays. The sun shone and the kids cleared their lockers while staff photocopied home learning packs. But beneath the busyness a quiet sadness and anxiety ran through each and every one of us.
And then it was 3pm and time to go. Students were subdued as they left school for maybe the last time. I teach one very autistic young man who struggles with touch and communication; he gave his LSA an enormous hug before getting on his bus. Another boy had tears in his eyes and one girl in Y11 turned to a member of staff and said "But we will be back before leavers day won't we?"
We left quickly once our students had left, knowing that we were entering a time entirely unprecedented in our experience as educators.
We will be back on Monday morning, ready to support those who are still in school.
We will be back on Monday morning, ready to support those who are helping the nation stem the spread of this virus by staying safely in their homes.
We will be back on Monday morning, ready to ensure that food is provided for our most vulnerable, that education in whatever form necessary is available to those who need it.
We will be back on Monday morning, ready to support one another when we fall ill, when our families fall ill, when we face whatever is on its way towards us.
What REALLY matters?
Community.
Colleagues, students, parents and families. We are in this together. We will all support one another and we will get through this together, even when it seems that we are apart.
Connection.
How to maintain connection with those who, just a few days ago, we spent 6 hours a day working and learning alongside? Many of my colleagues are in 12 week social distancing mode and I don't expect to see many of my students for at least 3 months. How do I support my students when school is closed? How can we as colleagues support one another when we are at a distance?
Communication.
Whether it is a wave across the park, a phonecall, a video call, a text message, a letter, an email, a card, a conversation at an appropriate distance, I am determined to keep communicating and sharing my experiences of these happenings. I cannot stomach the strangeness of these times, so I will not swallow them down but let them out and share them with others who are likely feeling the same.
Stay well my friends.
See you soon.
Comments
Post a Comment