First, here is testimony from Joshua Applewhite, NYC high school student, at yesterday's City Council hearings, who said that because of remote learning, "I feel like a robot. As a matter of fact, I feel like this whole situation is handled like we’re robots and we’re not humans with different feelings and different circumstances and different situations.”
More on the findings from these hearings here and here, including the fact that the city’s summer school plan for remote learning calls for only one counselor or social worker for every 1,045 students and only one teacher for 30 struggling students.
Below this video is a piece by Ronit Wrubel, a NYC teacher, who points out another big problem with remote learning - it's difficult for teachers to see their students' eyes.
More on the findings from these hearings here and here, including the fact that the city’s summer school plan for remote learning calls for only one counselor or social worker for every 1,045 students and only one teacher for 30 struggling students.
Below this video is a piece by Ronit Wrubel, a NYC teacher, who points out another big problem with remote learning - it's difficult for teachers to see their students' eyes.
DON'T FORGET THE EYES by Ronit Wrubel
Exactly 10 years ago, in
April of 2010, I wrote an essay called "Don't Forget The Eyes".
I had been teaching using
a document camera where I projected images onto a pull-down screen and showed
most of my lessons using slides, photos, and various worksheets that had been
transferred onto clear acetate pages. I used colored write on/wipe off markers
to share my teaching points. I found value in the interactivity of this
‘teaching tool’.
My document camera was
positioned behind my class meeting area in order to properly project what we
were learning. The children would look at the screen while listening to me.
They'd raise their hands and crane their necks backwards to respond, then
forwards to the screen, and on and on again. It became the new normal, but it
never felt right to me. Something was missing.
I couldn't see their
eyes.
I couldn't see their
smiles. I couldn't see their 'aha moments'. I couldn't see a look of confusion.
I couldn’t see a glimpse of humor. I couldn't see their body language or their
glances towards each other. I couldn’t see sadness. I couldn’t see a twinkle.
I couldn't see their
eyes.
I moved my document
camera – I reverted to more time with chart paper and the chalkboard and I
eventually got a SmartBoard for forward facing teaching.
I saw their eyes. And it
was glorious.
Until now. Now there’s a
new normal. Now I'm not in a classroom. And I won't be, possibly, for the rest
of this school year. And the children are stuck at home. And they’re confused.
And lonely. And bored. And scared. And their parents are faced with the
difficult task of working from home, or not. And helping ‘homeschool’ their
seven or eight year olds. Without the time or knowledge or tools. And I’m home
using my computer, Google Classroom, and more than a dozen websites and
platforms to teach my 26 second-graders. But it doesn’t feel right to me.
Something is missing.
I can’t see their eyes.
I can’t see their smiles.
I can’t see their ‘aha moments’. I can’t see confusion. I can’t see a glimpse
of humor. I can’t see body language or interaction. I can’t see sadness. I
can’t see a twinkle.
I can’t see their eyes.
We are living in the
midst of global trauma. A pandemic, the likes of which hasn’t been seen in a
century. There are no words to describe how sad this is for us all. For the
lives lost, the lives impacted, the lives upended, the lives teetering on the
edge. The steps being taken now are the right ones. We have to flatten the
curve, stem the tide, keep safe until we know more and see more. We have to
change the paradigm of teaching and learning. We have to and we are and we
will.
I understand the decision
to keep NYC schools closed for now. I understand that keeping children,
parents, teachers and support staff healthy and safe is the proper choice. I
understand that remote learning is the right way to continue. And I understand
that I can find ways to ‘see’ my students using various online tools. But it’s
not the same.
I’ll be there for my
students in all the ways I can. I’ll work with my colleagues and my
administration and a plethora of online platforms. I’ll devote endless hours to
finding the best ways to use technology so I can make the rest of this school
year exciting, engaging, and academically rewarding. I’ll attend to their
emotions as well as their skills. \
I’ll keep making videos, and screencasts, and slideshows and documents and parent emails and updates and at home projects and online searches. And I’ll schedule live sessions with my class. I’ll keep the learning going. I’ll keep the class community together in all the ways possible. I’ll still be their teacher and they’ll still be my students. But it’s not the same.
I’ll keep making videos, and screencasts, and slideshows and documents and parent emails and updates and at home projects and online searches. And I’ll schedule live sessions with my class. I’ll keep the learning going. I’ll keep the class community together in all the ways possible. I’ll still be their teacher and they’ll still be my students. But it’s not the same.
I miss their eyes.