Surviving 2020 as a Teacher and Scholar

What a year it turned out to be. Everything I thought I knew changed. How I taught--that changed. How I managed my work--that changed. How I connected to others--that changed. How I parented--that changed. Is it time to re-read Lord of the Rings? I read it once 10 times in a row during a particularly challenging period of my life. I might need to get that book(s) out and go for it. Is the timing just right? As I prepare to go back to work, it might just be. It's not lost on me that the journey of the characters in LOTR mirrors a lot of journeys we all have to take through this very complicated, dangerous, complex world. Getting inspiration to carry on from a high fantasy book isn't a bad way to go.

I have been teaching for decades now and have felt pretty great about my methods both for face2face and online. But I wasn't ready for the synchronous requirements of teaching when NOT ONE PERSON could meet in a classroom or over coffee or at the library. I had to rethink how I talked about a topic. I used to write on the board as I lectured: images, lists of words, charts, concepts--in conjunction with slides, sometimes, sometimes not. And I used to ask students to all go up to a board and work en masse--everyone with a dry erase marker and sticky notes and no limits. Not something we could do exactly.

I used to teach online but also create "meet-up" events where students could gather with me or others--for coffee, dinner, lunch, breakfast. Couldn't do that in COVID. I had to rethink what "getting together" needed to mean for teaching online. Individual consultation was okay online, but it was not the same as sitting next to someone working together to review a paper or a project. New times demanded new ways, so we made up new ways.

I got to learn a new program (Microsoft Teams) and ended up having learning experiences on Teams, through Zoom, and sometimes on Google Hangout. Everything about teaching in the last year needed to be agile (in case tech failed), and it all had to adapt to a small screen. I learned how to make use PowerPoint a different way, how to flip learning, and how to use breakout rooms for small group work. AND it all felt quick and haphazard.

I felt inadequate and on the edge of embarrassment most of the time. I wasn't full of confidence in these new methods, but I knew the topics I was teaching, at least. That helped keep me going. My sheer love of teaching helped, too. Of course, I adored my students, and that was also key to figuring out how we needed to forge ahead. They were worth the effort, and they dug right into the chaos and shared ideas when I asked about what might work best. They often knew more than I did about how to manage the tech beast, so I learned a lot from them.

Yet, I had so many frustrating moments where I couldn't even, as in "I can't even." While mainly working at home, I missed the friendships I'd formed at work. I missed being able to walk next door and ask a question of my boss or a colleague. I missed seeing faces. I missed laughing with colleagues. I missed going to lunch. Even though I loved being with my dog and wearing PJs to work every day, and loved cooking more, I missed dressing up for work. I loved feeling like some days I got more work done than ever in the history of the world--because it was SO quiet at home. I had time to think about processes and what I wanted from my professional life in the next few years. Typically, there's no time for that sort of introspection. Whatever happens in my work life, well, it just happens. This past year, I've spent time thinking about what I really want in the last chapters of my life. It's a gift of time I was fully aware of and grateful for--despite the horrific reasons for its existence.

And some days, I could hardly move from bed to desk to kitchen to desk to bed again. Thank goodness I have a small dog I had to walk or I might have totally fallen apart some days. I cried more in the last year than in many years combined prior to 2020. I was scared and worried. I became afraid to go out. I had all my groceries delivered for the past year. I rarely left home. I watched friends (via social media) become ill for months and was saddened to see some die. I got comfortable with paranoia. On weekends, I often snuggled up in a blanket and marathoned Star Wars movies or shows, Marvel movies, Star Trek (any series), or binged on a new show (The Expanse). I stopped wanting to socialize and just survived. I wasn't alone. Many of my beloved friends were as tense and stressed.

Social Media kept me connected but it also ruined me a little bit. I stopped engaging with a lot of social media because of the palpable tension of 2020--politics, pandemic, hate, fear, sadness. It hurt to see friends turn against each other, and to see the ugly underbelly of some friends' politics. It was all a bit too much. The benefits of being connected to friends far and wide were overshadowed by the polemics everysingledamnplaceIlooked. I kept my dog's Instagram as that's small and dog-centric. Pretty safe to say that's mainly uplifting--puppies. I hope humans can find a way to be kind again, to connect electronically, across borders, across belief systems. All is not lost, of course, as beauty was still possible: musicians connected through Zoom to make beautiful music, film makers created story still, and artists shared new creations, theaters reconfigured how to reach new and old audiences, but all the good stuff was sometimes too hard to find or felt too rare. One had to look for it amongst the heinous palaver. Time to practice selective connection online--for sure. I won't give up the social media thing entirely, but I did scale back and expect I will even more as I press on with the joyful business of living.

On top of it all, I fell down steps just prior to the first lockdown (it was epic, in front of a lot of colleagues, while pointing out the biggest gaggle of wild geese I'd ever seen), so I was injured and then got all pouty about it. It's really taken almost a year to get back to where I started because I'm not 23 anymore and healing takes ages and full healing doesn't happen anymore. So my gait's, ahem, evolved. Fun. What a pain that's been on top of the pandemic--being confronted by one's own limitations. Egads.

As I have gotten one shot and about to get my second shot (Pfizer vaccine), I've started to think about how to return to work in the office. Dressing up, wearing shoes, packing lunch, preparing to be gone all day. I did not like working at home when it all started. But I got used to being alone at home. I'll get used to being back at work. And sometimes, maybe, because it's right to work in quiet sometimes, I'll work at home. Balance.

Is this post TMI? No. The lines of personal and professional have forever been intertwined by 2020. I am who I am, flawed and fabulous, weak and strong, bold professional and wee homebody. I am all the things. And I'll keep on keeping on. Survival. It's just another thing I need to keep doing no matter how sore or joyful I might be. I am human. Humans are infinitely adaptable creatures, thank goodness--like Hobbits, I think, I hope--only taller. And in my case, I haven't had to walk into Mordor and cut off a finger to get by. So there's that. #LOTR4ever