I can’t compete with my kids’ teachers
Online schooling, Week 5.
Mommy is self-isolating in the attic with a presumptive case of COVID-19 — diagnosed by her doc on the phone — while crabby, overtired Dad is overseeing today’s journal writing session to be submitted for marks.
On the family’s desktop computer, Sam, 10, is writing a spirited entry about his inflexible, hair-trigger father, who makes him and his brother Max, 11, go for long walks during break time and how much that pisses him off.
Max, meanwhile, is on the couch, writing on his Chromebook how his tyrannical martinet dad always forces him and his little brother outside at breaks to get fresh air and how much that pisses him off.
I’m standing in the middle of the room, reading over their shoulders and thinking, “I admire their passion, and their spirited use of exclamation points, but this is not the way I see myself.”
This is, nonetheless, our new reality now that school is out, probably for summer, and I’ve been forced out of my lair to oversee this latest COVIDrelated public relations disaster.
Sgt. Dad, reporting for duty, ready to champion high-tech learning while reflecting on my own primary school days in the age of Pet Rocks and Clackers. When was that, 150 years ago? There were no computers back then, a McDonald’s hamburger cost 15 cents and when Toronto teachers went on strike in the fall of ’75 for two months, I remember watching Fonzie water ski in his leather jacket on a wheeled-in TV in the deserted science lab. “Happy Days” indeed. But times have changed. And when Ontario unveiled plans to educate the province’s youth through a high-tech interface, I figured the transition from physical to online schooling would be a gift from the gods.
But there are factors beyond my control:
Technology. Yes, times have changed since the first Trudeau sported lamb-chop sideburns and kids like me played the video game “Pong” on crappy TVs in our basements.
After one day overseeing this bold new paradigm, it’s clear my chances of cracking the code on Growth Mindset journals and Error Analysis units are the same as a chimp mastering the formula for nuclear fission.
The presence of an unwilling captive audience, who resent being made to work on their “holiday” and won’t tolerate parents masquerading as educators.
“These are kids who never liked to learn in the first place and who are celebrating the end of school as we know it,” notes Isabel Kuxdorf, a Baden parent of four who wrote me before the online curriculum was released.
“Books are the plague, not the coronavirus. So when asked to write three things they’re grateful for I got: 1) the coronavirus, the PS4 and, well, nothing else.”
By the time teachers stepped up with lesson plans and deadlines, she says, the education ship had already sailed.
“Home-schooling, like a balloon flying high with such hope a few weeks ago, has deflated,” lamented the workfrom-home business owner.
“Both home teacher and pupil hardly care. The books, paper and pencils lying on the table with such promise are now collecting dust. The new teachers are YouTube stars and the happy, dancey folks on TikTok.” I’m perhaps less skeptical. By the end of my third day of riding herd, I’ve missed all my work deadlines but succeeded in gaining a measure of compliance until the 10-year-old becomes overwhelmed with love for the cat, and his brother — who has autism and doesn’t tolerate infractions — decides he can no longer coexist in the same room with someone who would kiss an animal on the mouth.
“I’ll have that story for you in two minutes,” I inform my editor. “Just as soon as I break up this fist fight.”
When I press the issue, both kids tell me that while they love doing school work on computers while reclining on the couch, they miss their friends and, especially, their teachers.
Let me address that last point. When I was a student at the dawn of the Stone Age, teachers were strictly a hit-and-miss proposition, from the moustache who screened a semiporno film to 11-year-olds in the age of free love to the high school math tyrant who stomped out when we meekly requested an extra review session before an end-of-term exam.
I’m sure there are still middling teachers, but I’ve had kids in the public system for eight years and, I kid you not, we haven’t had a bad one yet.
These are caring, emotionally intelligent people who “get” the unique personalities in their charge and, in my experience, will happily go the extra mile. No wonder I can’t compete. “And after my dad yelled at me about the walk,” writes my younger son in his next journal entry, “he read my journal and yelled at me for writing that he yelled so much!”
Let’s be honest: in 2020, the public education system is the only thing standing between my life and complete chaos.
“Without direct engagement between teacher and student, this will not go well,” agrees Kuxdorf, who sounds ready to throw in the towel.
“We’ve had some success this week but, to be honest, I haven’t checked anyone’s work so it’s anyone’s guess if they did the stuff they were supposed to. Plus I have PTSD from trying to get No. 2 to do anything that has to do with school, while No. 3 was bitterly disappointed that online learning didn’t mean FaceTime with his beloved teachers. His motivation plummeted.”
She sighs. “The kids need to get back to school. There. I said it.”
In 2020, the public education system is the only thing standing between my life and complete chaos