A Quiet Thank You from Peace Dale Elementary

Let’s be frank. Teaching at the elementary level was really, really, difficult prior to March 2020. When many of us attended grades K-5, or very likely K-6 back then, play and discovery were central to a basic education that would appropriately ramp up in the middle levels. Over the last two decades, these early years for our children have been re-scripted with “rigorous” curriculum standards, data days, “running records”, personal learning plans, and state mandated common assessments. Accountability and metrics of growth have become the norm starting with kindergartners. Although the general push toward data wasn’t necessarily welcomed by educators with open-arms, teachers across the country adapted…as we do.

Enter COVID-19. On a Friday afternoon in March we received news that Rhode Island was up to 15 cases and that “April Vacation” would come early as school buildings closed. Public education throughout the state would be going virtual. We were in uncharted waters so just keeping the boat afloat was reason for celebration. Land was on the horizon and we just had to keep the kids engaged and moving in the right direction through June. After a “restful” July of cancelled fireworks, avoiding crowded beaches, and having to drive to neighboring towns for ice cream, August was a full-fledged game of redlight/greenlight as the Governor debated what a return to school would look like. Educators prepared tirelessly for both a return in person and an equally possible return to distance learning. September rolled around and uncertainty still remained.

Based on conversations NEASK leadership was having with presidents from other districts, SK educators were in an enviable position. Although the landscape was still foreign, our Superintendent planted her flag in the sand by rolling with a simple motto: “Be safe, feel safe”. For students and teachers alike, and to the chagrin of some parents who were displeased by a two week delay in students returning to the classroom, the message was clear. The district was dedicated to safety in our schools above all else. We were ordering air filters that would deliver “hospital grade” air and we’d be giving them time to come in. As a group that would be interacting with dozens of people daily, this brought great comfort to teachers and we were appreciative…initially.

Here’s the problem with teachers, especially elementary school teachers: They’re really good at what they are tasked with. Your children are loved and adored when they enter our building. They receive a top-notch education and making sure all of our kids are ready for what comes next is what drives us all. The district has told teachers to focus on Social and Emotional Learning, which is 100% the correct approach. But it’s different, and different is hard, especially when a quarter of your students are learning from home and you’ve received little to no training around curriculum. We don’t have each other to lean on, to learn from, because everyone is cranked into overdrive and isolated. On top of that, typical academic demands are being scaled back (per administrative directives) to relieve added pressure on students. Everything this year is different and it all feels like its rooted in surviving the present. But educators are futurists by nature. All of our efforts are geared toward what will unfold many years down the road and for so long that path has been paved with reading levels and STAR scores. So while dedication to safety is very much appreciated, for the seasoned educator’s brain, it doesn’t fully compute due to academic tradeoffs. Time and experience over these last two months has shown that it’s not in our DNA. Keeping the fledgling closer to the nest because there’s a pandemic is the right thing to do, and we’ll keep trying, but it’s so hard when you’ve been charged with showing it how to fly for the last twenty or thirty years. And therein lies the major dilemma for your child’s teacher. The reality is that all kids across the country are in the same stalled state. No second grader will learn what second graders of two years ago were able to learn. But rationalization of this type isn’t enough to undo the hardwiring of a dedicated educator (nor a devoted parent).

It’s the middle of November. Infection rates in town are still well-below state and national averages. We’re doing great in terms of safety so we should be thankful. The Superintendent laid out a plan and as best anyone could do during an unprecedented pandemic, she’s stuck to it. But the nation and state are starting to trend in the wrong direction. The Rhode Island Department of Health is struggling to keep up with contact tracing. We’re seeing more cases in our schools. Although the nest may still be safe, the feeling is eroding case by case and the internal weight and stress that come with the inability to feel successful as an educator is getting heavier and heavier. While we should all be turning our thinking toward family and Thanksgiving plans right about now, teachers are dreading having nothing to tell students’ parents during next week’s parent-teacher conferences. Dual Language Immersion (DLI) teachers are trying to cope with only seeing half of their flock in person and the goals of the program being on hard pause because of safety-based limitations. Sacrificing educational goals for safety is tough to swallow for dedicated educators, especially when COVID seems to be getting closer.

Who knows what the future will bring?…I suppose that’s the theme of 2020. Today is Veterans’ Day and as Mrs. Willett was explaining to her 4th graders yesterday afternoon, at its core, it’s a day to be thankful for the sacrifice of others. The sacrifice that our nation’s armed forces make and have made is worthy of our appreciation and admiration, so by making this leap I mean no disrespect nor belittlement, but instead a pivot toward the battle that is closer to home and in the present. Gratitude is a theme that shows up in countless Social and Emotional curricula. In exchange for traditional curriculum and the goals that come with them, gratitude and empathy are central to the lessons we’re trying to deliver to students during these trying times. So in that spirit, I am thankful for all those families who continue to do what is necessary to keep our community strong and safe. I am thankful to Superintendent Savastano and her leadership team for their consistency and dedication to keeping the children of South Kingstown as safe as they can during this pandemic. I am especially thankful for all of the educators who are great at teaching kids to fly, but instead find themselves having to learn to swim in a world of isolation and uncertainty. And I’m thankful that I had the good fortune to overhear Cindy (pseudonym to protect identity) during dismissal on Tuesday:

Cindy is an 8 year old at Peace Dale and you wouldn’t know she was there unless you were looking for her. Quiet, unassuming, a good student and a constant smiler, but I admittedly (as Dean of Students) didn’t know her name until this year. On Tuesday, her class was lined up in the hall waiting to exit the building. While they waited patiently and quietly, the custodian (who just came on at 3:00) was pushing her noisy cart down the hall with one hand, an awkwardly shaped dustpan and broom in the other. As the custodian passed, her eyes were drawn to the young girl as Cindy’s mouth whispered, “thank you”. Now…I don’t know what reading level Cindy is at. I don’t know if she is meeting the standards in math. I don’t know how she did on RICAS two years ago…and in this reality, it doesn’t matter. Cindy is going to be alright. As a futurist, I am fully confident that Cindy is going to be a success in the long run. Her education and outcomes will look very different this year, but she, and the rest of the students at Peace Dale, are learning to fly. Let’s make sure we as teachers, as role models, as a community, don’t lose sight of our new charge during this pandemic. It’s not our first nature, but neither is surviving a pandemic. Positive feedback and proof of learning aren’t going to be as clear and measurable as in the past. As was the case with Cindy, we’re going to have to look harder for it. We may have to listen closely…but it’ll be there, as long as we are.