Tag: emergency learning

Muted? Student Voice during Remote Learning

Muted? Student Voice during Remote Learning

“Go ahead and remain unmuted during our Zoom meetings.”, Tonya Gilchrist informed our cohort. “I find it’s easier for people to share ideas and ask questions that way. But if you have background noise, then please mute yourself”.

At that moment I was confronted with a reality that I hadn’t considered before: what it means to mute someone online: psychology and emotionally. 

For most of us who teach or have a meeting online, muting “participants” is usually the first thing we do when they come online in order to conduct your meeting uninterrupted and distraction-free. We often don’t provide the choice to do so and if noise does creep into your meeting, then you immediately scramble to find its source and mute it, lest your wise words fall on deaf ears.

And so, when Tonya shared this essential housekeeping rule, it got me wondering if remote learning has made us more teacher-centered or student-centered in our pedagogical approaches.

I’m thinking teacher-centered. 

And here’s why.

I have a folder full of schools’ Online Learning Plans/Academic Continuity Plans. Whatever you want to call it, those were designed for learning in a crisis. From Argentina to China, to New York to Vietnam, none of them considered the importance of student conversations when we went online. Globally we worried about teachers disseminating information to their students, providing them with the systems and tools to do that; all the while ensuring that students had access to that information—not to each other. The tools we insisted upon, were ones that made it easier for teachers to assign work and talk with students. Whether we went with Google Meets or Zoom, SeeSaw or Schoology, Google Suite or Microsoft–the focus was on an urgent need to explain the content and cover our standards.

Sure students probably found ways to connect with each other–that’s not the point I’m trying to make. It’s that, we, in education, didn’t think enough about the peer-to-peer interaction when we went online. We have thrown out social constructivism and used more didactic approaches to validate the “quality” of our education. 

And now that we are facing the possibility that the next school year might have a continued online component, we need to re-examine those “emergency learning plans”  and not only think about “the standards” but to think about pedagogy. We cannot just plop our classrooms online without providing students with access to each other’s minds as a core component of learning.

And so it gets me wondering if what makes remote learning so exhausting is the lack of interaction. There’s little exchange of our energy and enthusiasm for learning among our community of learners. How might we re-design the learning experience if we go into Phase 2 of our Academic Continuity Plans? I think we need to be debating the merits of apps and platforms that encourage student voice and collaboration like FlipGrid and Explain Everything instead of using our teachers’ creative energy on BitEmoji Classrooms. We need to stop pining for the past, teaching like we are in crisis, and start developing learning for our future.

I’m wondering what else have you noticed that should be reconsidered in your school’s version of online learning 2.0?   This isn’t a time to bury our heads in the sand but to engage and debate in critical conversations. Please share your ideas!

The Role of the Teacher during #RemoteLearning

The Role of the Teacher during #RemoteLearning

Indefinite.

That’s the word that currently describes the state of our school’s remote learning. What began as a 2-week quarantine has transformed into a vague timeline. It’s no wonder why people have now redubbed this experience as “emergency learning” since the typical planning and preparation that might have gone into this situation was stymied by the gravity of this crisis. We jumped first before we actually knew how to swim.

But as teachers, we are resilient. We can go with the punches. Flexibility. Humor. Patience. Those rarely show up on our job descriptions but are foundational skills for anyone who makes it past their third year in the classroom.

However, we aren’t the teachers any more.

Not really. It’s the parents.

But in my mind, parents are always the first and last teacher of any child. I borrow their children for a few hours. However, parents never recognized their role as teachers, until now. They may have been educating them in their values and beliefs in a passive way, whereas, we as professionals, are intentional and precise with the skills we want them to have.

When I heard these thoughts shared, I felt it summarized the juxtaposition of this moment:

What gives us energy? Not when the work is small and menial and easy. But when the work is big and important and collaborative. It adds up to something. Everything we believe in is now being put to the test.

-Lucy Calkins, Teaching and Leading in the Midst of COVID-19

So true.

I, like so many educators, am looking for wisdom. A beacon light that will guide me through this experience. But not because I don’t know how to teach. Or that the teachers I lead don’t know how to teach. No, they may struggle with the online environment but they are eager to be effective. The motivation is there. But I lean in and listen because I am seeking the insight in how we might pilot families through these stressful times.

In my mind, this is the role of the teacher during this COVID-19 crisis. It’s helping parents claim their legitimate position as their child’s teacher, despite their lack of pedagogical know-how.

We may design lessons and engage with students online but, to the families, who we are and what we do is so much more valuable than that. Our relationship has shifted. They see who were are and what we do differently……

We are trainers. We instruct them in how to set up their child’s schedule and their learning environment.

We are mentors. We build a genuine connection and share stories of their child’s learning.

We are coaches. We collect data from them. They are the eyes and ears of our student’s learning. We urge them into supporting their child’s next steps.

We encourage. We remind them that what they are doing is hard but it will get better. They can do this. Keep the faith in the capacity to figure things out.

We support. We explain what is working and why it’s helpful to do what matters, as many times as it takes. We never give up. We are there for them.

We remember. We remind them that their child was born to be curious and has a strong desire to learn, even if they don’t always show it. They are growing intellectually, mentally and spiritually during this time. It is their human nature to do so.

We acknowledge. We share our gratitude. We smile. We laugh. We give grace.

We are human. 

This is the role of the teacher. Indefinitely.

 

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