Three Long Weeks

It's been three weeks since our schools shut down.

Three weeks in my role as a principal since the decision was made to close down and shift toward online learning for our students. 

I think as a principal that I had a sense that our school campus were going to be closed in the weeks leading up to the actual decision. A lot of our teachers had questions about the "what if" aspects of such a closure and I told them directly that I didn't have the answers. What I did have were some calculated predictions of what could happen if we did close our school campus. Thus, we spent multiple meetings leading up to the campus closures discussing what we might do if our campus closed and had to shift to an online learning model.

It was in these meetings that my already significant appreciation for my staff increased even further. Every question they asked was about how they could support their students, each other, and our school community. There was genuine concern about our more academically prepared and emotionally fragile students. How were we going to ensure all of our students had lunches, internet, access to the curriculum, access to their counselor, everything. Our staff spent countless hours preparing for the inevitable shift before most middle schools had even had their first conversation about the possibility. I even created a FAQ for our parent community to answer common questions that we expected them to have and gave them an opportunity to ask more if need be.

Even with all of our preparation, it's been a hard three weeks. Educating our students online isn't the same as opening their car doors in the morning as they arrive with school, checking in with them as we pass them on our campus, and waving goodbye as they depart at the end of the day. I'm pleasantly surprised at the student turnout in our classes each day, but it's a continued challenge for our staff to not experience diminishing returns therein.

I've also discovered I'm not a very good "online" principal. I might become more comfortable with the role as our time away from the school campus continues, but I'm not so sure. Being an "online" principal is a completely different job than what I've spent the last eight years doing at Union Middle. There's a whole lot less face to face interaction, less walking around and connecting with people, less understanding of who's doing what and who needs help. I miss seeing the staff, our parents, and especially our students.

I miss my normal work day. I really, really miss it.

Three weeks in my role as a parent since my daughters and sons have been unable to attend their own schooling during the day.

Last November, my wife and I pulled our daughters out of the local public school after an incident on campus that led to one of my daughter's arms being significantly bruised. It wasn't the only reason we removed them but it was the final straw for our family. We eventually found a non public school for them and have spent the last few months figuring out the odds and ends of making it work. It hasn't been easy, as we were in a limbo of sorts in making it work for our daughters and our family... but things were just about to be settled when the closures hit.

As shared previously, our daughters have significant special needs. They do much better with set routines and seeing their classmates. While they struggle with transitions, they were beginning to find some stability in their routines with their new school. For them, as special needs students, there is no substitute from in-person support and learning opportunities. It is during these times that our special needs students get overlooked. Even if a school is trying to support them academically, it is rare that an online learning model can truly support a special needs student in need of one to one support. With four kids and me working from home during the day, we just can't provide both of our daughters the one to one support they need.

They miss going to their new school each day and ask when they can go back. They don't understand why not.


Three weeks in my role as a spouse spending every moment of every single day at home with my wife and our four kids. 

I've blogged recently about limiting our time together as a family for a variety of issues, one of which is maintaining a level of safety for all four of our kids. However, with the shelter in place, we have no choice but to all be together. So far, there's only been one hospital visit. It was for one of our sons and unrelated to our daughters. He decided to do a Ric Flair face flop in his bedroom onto a toy truck and split his upper lip open. Of course he decided to do this the night before my school started our online learning schedule. Never a good thing to be in the ER amid a pandemic from 7 pm Sunday to 3 am Monday morning.

Most of our days have been dividing the kids' locations for our mere survival. Separate sides of the table. Separate sides of the house. Separate walks. Separate everything. We don't even watch a movie as a family; it's just too risky. I can't even take my daughters to Costco. If we try to escape for a few minutes and check Facebook or Reddit, we're flooded with depressing Covid-19 news and often something worse. There's no reprieve, no quarter from our daily lives.

My wife and I get about two hours of television and talk each night after the kids go to bed. Netflix has helped greatly but we are down to just a few episodes of Ozark left and have already sped through Tiger King. There's no way to get the kids enough exercise during the day to encourage a better sleep. Longer days mean longer nights somehow for our family. My wife and I are just barely hanging on. Each day is a victory of sorts.

And it's only been three weeks.

Three. Long. Weeks.