Memories

"Ms. Wagner.  Meet with the ESOL students tomorrow.  They are all missing Social Studies assignments."  I was a little put off to receive the missive from a colleague, directing me to drag the students into virtual class on a day when they did not have their regular classes.  I looked at their assignments.  Yeah, they were missing some stuff.  As was the rest of the class.  I love my students and want to help them, I guess I just don't like being commanded to do things by people that are not my superiors and don't even do a shadow of what their own jobs are.  I sent my kids a link to meet up on their mental health day, adding a message to their Social Studies teacher that when I have tried to get them into virtual class on Wednesdays for extra help, they usually don't show up, but hey, we are all just trying to be the best we's we can be.  

Three out of six came, right on time.  It was a casual atmosphere, Alec making a massive lunch in the background and Lola jumping on the couch beside me.  I did not change my background and warned them a few times when I needed to get another monitor or more coffee, but never cut my camera.  I went into their assignments and realized most of them hadn't been taught how to use the technology they were supposed to be using. On top of it, the teachers didn't understand the technology either, it was a series of dead links and unwritable forms.  I was pissed.  They had been given zeroes, as was the rest of their class.  

I got one of my emerging students to share his screen, and we got to work.  I heard a little tune in the background, while one of my other students started playing music on her phone.  

Here's to the ones that we got

Cheers to wish you were here, but you're not

'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories

Of everything we've been through 

Toast to the ones here today

Toast to the ones that we lost on the way

'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories

And the memories bring back, memories bring back you...

"I like that song." I said and directed him on how to dictate his answers to me while I wrote them down and photographed them with my phone, because the doc was so dead it was unwritable.  

We continued to work, little heads down and up, questioning and answering and humming.  They would sing out loud the ones that we lost so rhythmically and I would feel my eyes welling up, thinking of the all the people that were gone, the ones that had died, of how much we had lost when school shut down last March.  I though of the teacher that I work with that was asked about how she felt on the first day of pre-planning, only to mention that the father of her newborn child had been killed, the same week as Rayshard Brooks, and played the same song to convey her feelings.   

"I have to go to another meeting..."  I told them.  

"I have to hang up."

"Can we keep working together?" Paw Ku asked.

"Yes.  That is why we did this.  Stay on the call.  Teach each other to submit."  

I can't wait to see you tomorrow.  

*Title - Memories, Marroon 5 

 

I Didn't Kill the Deputy

I pushed in to my virtual class, trying to figure out what to do.  My older students have figured out how to follow my MEET links so that we can meet together in small groups and figure out assignments, but with kindergarten and first grades, it's a mess.  And, those are the teachers that are pushing more and more for me to "take them".

I am so afraid of not doing my job.  It is important to me.  I watch my students, I pin them, a way that I can only see them and not the rest of the class.  I try to figure out if they're engaged, if they're working.  I pipe in, speak to them.  Some of them have been able to come to my pull-out virtual room, mainly by themselves, or sometimes, with parent help. Some of my kids have to wake their parents up, because they are laying on a bed beside them after working night shifts, but still trying to monitor online learning.  

Prem's little brother's teacher was determined that I should take him out, all of the time.  But, you know what?  I don't have a magic wand either and I knew from the time I screened him that he was a really unschooled five year old that would need major assistance. I piped in to his class.  I warned the teacher first, because I was going to un-mic.  

"Hi...Ku....can you hear me?"  I asked.  

I saw his face turn toward the camera and thank god, he didn't scream when he saw me. 

"Are your parents around...or your brother...?"

Prem shot into the screen.  The whole class could hear this interaction.  

"Hey Prem, can you click on the link in the chat, I want to work with your brother for a minute." I saw Prem's face fix on the screen and open up the new tab.  

"Go back to your school work, Prem, thank you!"  I yelled, knowing that his teachers were saying things like, if you don't turn this in within the next 90 seconds....you get zeroes, zeroes, zeroes!  

And, you know what?  Ku actually liked the school work his primary teacher was giving him and wouldn't pay attention to me at all.  She had an instrumental version of "I Shot the Sheriff" playing and he was grooving and shaking, doing a little bit of math the whole time.  

"Prem....hang him up with me," I called.

"He is doing just fine."

Dog Days

"Whose legs are those?"  Prem asked randomly, during one of our pull-out sessions.  They sit on the floor, my students, with their Chromebooks on chairs and at times, various family members walk behind whoever is in class. 

"Hey wait, Veronica, is that Adriana?  Is that your mom?"  I asked, happy to see missed members of their families that I haven't seen in a while.  Identifying legs is hard.  I sit on the floor too, while I work.  But my back is to my shelf of records, so legs don't walk behind me.  

I have to get to my MEET groups first, before any of the students join.  Whoever gets there first controls the meeting.  I found this out the hard way when I couldn't mute a new student who tends to sing Islamic chants the whole time he works.  And he gets there early.

Everything changes when I get to remove my students from their virtual classrooms, for pull-out.  Some of the teachers try to dictate all of the time, yelling at me like they do their students, Ms. Wagner, you have ten minutes, get them back on time.... Others want me to take the kids all of the time, because they have a bit of a hands off approach to any child they view as "international".  Sometimes these kids aren't even ESOL students...just Asian, or Hispanic, or African.  I know most of them and don't mind helping, it's just a little weird.  They think I can speak every language in the universe and have an immediate line to every parent of a non-majority ethnicity kid and can just, you know, get it done, wether they are English learners or not.  Sometimes, ethnic confusion pops up even with the ESOL kids... Ms. Wagner, speak to her in Spanish so the other kids won't know what you're saying....but Ms. X, the student is Burmese and doesn't understand Spanish.... I respond.  

I do like it when we leave.  The snacks come out.  They show me the books I sent them this summer.  Many lay down on their beds and prop themselves up on pillows. It's not that I don't want them to do school work.  I just don't see why everything has to be so extreme - dress code, no water, sit up straight.  

And, I get to guess whose legs are those, and visit with everyone.  

Covid 2020

"This is Alberto's sister.  Please text me back, I'm trying to help him, he can't get online."  It was 7:50 in the morning on the first day of school.  And, I knew that Alberto's sister was only in high school and was probably trying to get online for her own classes, too.

Virtual teaching officially began.  By the second day, the students had learned to mute their teachers, leaving them speaking voicelessly to entire classes.  The kids even muted each other.  They took over teachers' Power Points, tearing through them at record pace.  I knew I shouldn't laugh, but I couldn't help it.  

"Ms. Wagner, I can't get in, I don't know my password...." Bway Paw exclaimed in a message.  I started emailing teachers, begging them to give me sign-in information for their pages.  Some refused.  Others simply didn't answer at all.

"Hey, can I call you on TEAMS in a minute, it won't take long."  Mr. Warner asked.  I logged on to the call.

"A bunch of your students are missing, I don't know where they are....Rosa, David, Agnieszka..."  

I was glad that he cared.  

"I got a hold of David's dad and he said that David's mother picked him up for visitation and never returned....."  he continued.  

I gasped. Where is he?  Where the fuck is David?  Is he safe?

"I don't know what is going on with Agnieszka's dad...."  Mr. Warner continued explaining.

"Yeah...he's difficult.  All last spring he just kept saying that he didn't know the kids still had to attend school.  We told him a million times that they did, that they attend online, but he would just say the same thing whenever we could actually get ahold of him....let me request an interpreter, he needs to come pick up her Chromebook....." I responded. 

I found an old contact for Rosa's stepfather and discovered that she had moved.  I checked out her new school and it was a lot better than ours.  I was happy for her, but I'll miss her.  I hope she gets to see snow this year.  

"Ms. Wagner?"  Angel asked into the phone.

"Yes!  Angel, how are you??!!"  I responded, thrilled to hear from him.

"I can't get in, I can't get into my classes!"  he answered.  I could hear his mom in the background, speaking in what seemed like an agitated tone, in Spanish.  I was pissed.  I had been asking and asking for passwords and was being refused.  Angel had missed days of instruction.  He was one of multiple ESOL kids from the same class that could not enter the online classroom and we were being completely stonewalled.  I tried as best as I could to get him online and ended up asking to speak to his mom.  

"I don't speak so much English...."  she said awkwardly into the phone.  

"It's okay, I speak Spanish...." I answered.

It was like a volcano erupted.  She was furious.  She hadn't received a single message from any of Angel's teachers, yet received succinct log-in information on the first day from her other children's teachers.   

"Look,"  I said in Spanish.

"You are right.  This is ridiculous and I'm angry, too.  It's not right.  This is going to be resolved today."  Thankfully, I was able to keep my promise.  

"The WIDA remote screener will be our virtual tool for assessing English language proficiency for incoming students.  You will call the families, tell them to drive to the Center and pick up the student part of the test at 10:00am on Tuesdays, you will schedule a time to call back and screen the child virtually, use whatever the family wants you to use Zoom, What's app, FaceTime, whatever, just put it on your phone, screen the child, call them back to review the results, do all the paperwork, figure out some way to virtually upload it even though we want the forms handwritten.....blah blah blah blah blah blah blah....."  

Yeah, no problem.  Easy fucking peezy.  

The only part I was excited about was that I saw one of my new students to be screened was Prem's little brother.  Prem is such a cool kid that I was excited to receive a new family member.  I called, and his sister facilitated the screener, via FaceTime.

Ku was not having it.   

He repeatedly ran away, crying.  He flopped face down on the couch and tossed the phone away.  When he saw my face on the screen, he screamed.  I finished the screener, feeling horrible.  A message popped up on my computer.

"I could hear you testing my brother...."

"OMG, I am so sorry, Prem.  I totally terrorized him."  I answered.

"It's okay." he responded, then dropped out.

"Hey Ms. Wagner.....can we go live?" 

I thought the message was sweet.  I hadn't received my teaching schedule yet and had been communicating with my students via various messaging platforms, but not on a live video.  I set up the link and sent it out.  I waited a minute and suddenly saw little Alberto pop up on the screen, seated at a little desk in his bedroom.

"Hi Ms. Wagner."  he said, the same little enigmatic smile on his face that he always wears.

"Hi Alberto!  It is so good to see you!  How are you??"

"Well you know, my mom, she stopped hitting...yeah, she doesn't do that anymore.  And my dad?  Well, we don't like him anymore.  That woman with the baby I told you about?  They were not just friends.  And my mom, well, she got us a new dad, but we call him by his name.  Not 'dad'.  And, my mom's going to have a baby!  Its a boy!  I am so excited!"

I smiled broadly into my laptop.

"I am so happy for you, Alberto."  I said, really meaning it even though it was an unusual story.

"I am so glad things are going well."