Ready or not, parents to become teachers’ helpers
As his three kids gathered for their first day of “distance school” Monday morning, Ron Walker tried to recall the algebra he was taught 35 years ago.
All he could remember was he hated it.
“I can do math in my head,” Walker said. “But if you put in Y2X, I don’t know.”
Buckle up, parents. There could be a lot of Y2X, biology and civics flashbacks coming your way.
Coronavirus has shut the schoolhouse doors. Until further notice, classes and assignments will be done online
through May 1.
Teachers are charge, but parents have been conscripted to be the teachers’ eyes, ears and hands. Mom and Dad basically have to become assistant teachers for distance schooling to work.
And many will to do it while trying to work their regular jobs from home.
Have you ever tried to sell a house while kids come in every 10 minutes asking about the Pythagorean theorem?
Walker’s wife, Heather, got her first taste this week.
“I don’t know how to do algebra anymore,” she said with a laugh.
The Walkers are both Realtors. Like thousands of families
in Central Florida, their house in the Dr. Phillips area has been converted into a combination business office/schoolhouse.
Their kitchen area is now one part Southwest Middle School and two parts Bay Meadows Elementary, the schools their three kids attend. Kiki is in the first grade, Max is in the fifth and Dalton is in the seventh.
Each has a bin with their name on it. Heather stocked it with pencils, pens, paper and two small bags of Doritos.
One wall away, the dining room is now The
Walker Group at Future Home Realty. The table is covered in files, documents, paint samples and a box of latex gloves.
“We give them to clients whenever we show a house,” Heather said.
The plan for the first day was for the kids to get up, make their beds, eat breakfast, brush their teeth and log in to classes at 9 a.m.
Based on the digital traffic jam, everybody in Orange County had that idea. It was the educational equivalent of the Obamacare website rollout.
By 9:30, Kiki had finished her Doritos but hadn’t been able to start the first lesson.
“They can’t get online to do their work,” Heather said. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not downing the school, but it’s true.”
The system sputtered to life enough to get a few things done. While the kids toiled at the kitchen table, Heather worked the phone with a lender.
For some reason, 7-year-olds don’t appreciate the intricacies of closing on a house.
“Mommy, my program’s over,” Kiki popped in to say.
“Give me a second,” Heather said. “Let me find what I need for a client, and I’ll come help you.”
Ten minutes later, Max slid into the dining room on his back.
“I’ve done my assignments,” he said.
“And your research project?” Heather asked.
Max slid back out. Heather got up to check on Dalton. He was playing Minecraft on his computer. Not in the lesson plan.
“Both my parents were public school teachers,” Heather said. “I never wanted to be one. I saw exactly what they went through.”
She and Ron first dated 20 years ago, but they ended up marrying and having kids with other spouses. After those marriages ended in divorce, they reconnected a couple of years ago.
It was love at second sight.
They were caught up in hectic happiness before COVID-19, constantly running around, showing houses, closing deals and scrambling not to be the last car in the after-school pickup line.
“Now,” Ron said, “we’re living in a world that’s just flip-flopped.”
The days are spent playing an extended version of “Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?” But distance learning is also a chance for parents to teach kids things they don’t learn in school.
Ron had them in the yard over the weekend helping plant three trees. He wanted them to get their hands dirty while learning about soil and fertilizer. Next up on the list?
“Our kids have never washed a car,” Heather said.
At least that won’t require a computer hookup. The glitches that disrupted the first day of distance learning are gradually clearing. Once resolved, working parents will be fully tasked with a juggling act nobody dreamed of.
It will require patience, discipline, patience, creativity and more patience.
“We’re both very positive people,” Heather said.
“That helps a lot.”
It’s all a matter of making the best of a historically strange situation. Even if that means learning the Pythagorean theorem all over again. This is one in a series of stories about Central Floridians living with and adapting to the coronavirus crisis. If you have a story to tell, contact David Whitley at dwhitley@ orlandosentinel.com.