Fe Fi Fo Fum…the seeds have been flung and the stalk grows. I climb it and my foot gets stuck, I slide, stick back on, and slink back up. I face my ogre-self at the top. It is the one in my mind. The ogre-self that wants to cannibalize the cheerful self. It is the one that stomps in my head saying all types of negative things as I start the school year such as, ‘You used to be’, or ‘You’re not good at,’ or ‘You’re not,’ or ‘You’re waayyy…’
For now, I need to distract that ogre self and as much as it stomps, and try not to listen.
My students are waiting. I’ve got a job to do. I have a calling. I may not have the answers or even the questions that I need now, but I’ve gotta keep going. I am a teacher.
I am also a learner, and this is definitely a season for learning. It is life quake time, as author Bruce Feiler describes moments like these.
While I climb each leafy step along the stalk I talk myself through it. I’ve been noticing I’ve been talking to myself as Vygotsky says we do when we are moving from one Zone of Proximal Development to the next.
This is my first year teaching all virtual school. In the Spring, I taught distance learning as our school shut down. I am at a new school now. It is an all virtual school. There are no bricks nor mortar to connect them. My onboarding was all virtual, for, which I am thankful during this pandemic.
However, without a brick and mortar school, I have noticed that it is a bit more tricky to know who to go to when I need help. There aren’t wings for grade levels, a library (which is usually the heart of the school), a teachers’ lounge (which is a good thing) etc. This week, I have embarked upon my virtual school journey without a map so to speak.
I want to share with you some tidbits and takeaways, without saying too much. On Monday morning, my brand new school computer wouldn’t boot up. It crashed. I didn’t know who in tech to call and had a Zoom training. I used my old personal laptop, signed into Zoom and waved hello to my new colleagues. Frozen, wait what? Midsentence, faces were frozen. The line kept dropping.
Dropping –
Dropping –
Drop.