matching tracksuits

We've finished two days of school. I swear it feels like a week already. There's nothing like doing the same thing over and over to drive the joy out of something. Today, the same lessons as yesterday: one lesson four times, the other once. And what's worse: this is only the halfway point. I still have to do the same lesson just as many times as I've already done it.

As with yesterday, I tried journaling with my journalism/creative nonfiction students today:

Day two is now behind us. I feel like we’ve been here for a week. I’ve done the same thing with eight -- count them, eight -- classes, and I still have eight more to do. I’m already seeing that the plan to try to do the same lesson with the in-person kids throughout the week was an absolutely ridiculous idea: I’d go stark raving mad if I had to do every week like this week, with the same lesson over and over and over and over and over and over and over. (I’m tempted to do that sixteen times, but I don’t even want to try to keep track of how many times I’ve actually typed it…)

So what was different about today as opposed to yesterday? New kids -- the obvious answer. Some very entertaining kids, including siblings of folks I”ve taught in the class (at least two that I can think of). Some very quiet kids. (I used to worry about such kids, but I’ve learned over the years that such kids are quiet as a sort of defense mechanism. What I mistook for near-apathy is in fact just a lack of certainty about where they fit in the class, what their role will be.) SOme kids with great senses of humor -- kids that can take ribbing and know that I”m’ actually being silly with them and who hopefully realize I mean the exact opposite.

I also remembered to have my online meeting with kids who are still at home. I got to talk to three girls, one I’ll meet tomorrow and two I’ll meet Thursday. I don’t think anyone really realizes how far that goes in creating a positive first impression. It’s a little bit of effort that has a disproportionately large impact on one’s impression. It’s like paying a dollar and getting ten dollars worth of candy.

All these new procedures are gradually becoming new habits. I didn’t forget to spray disinfectant on any desks today, and I”m not sure I got them all yesterday. It’s one of those things that I think, “Missing one time is not the end of the world,” when, in fact, in a pandemic situation, it might very well ultimately be the end of the world for someone. It’s almost depressing to think about it like that, but viruses don’t care how we feel about them. They’re just there, doing what they do without giving it a single thought.

I am getting terribly yawny now. I always do during seventh period. When I used to have English I during seventh period, I felt those kids were getting something of a raw deal because I could never get through that class with the same enthusiasm as I did with other classes. I found myself wishing I’d filmed fourth period so I could just say, “Watch this video and do it along with them…” It was the same way yesterday, and as a result, I went to bed shortly after nine. I was so exhausted that it was difficult to focus. I guess it’s the way every year during the first few weeks: my body is used to a different schedule, and it rebels at having revert back to a school-year schedule.

It was an especially long day because it was the Girl's first volleyball game. Possibly the last -- who knows in these times. Is it safe? We all take the most precautions that we can. It's such an important element in L's life, so important to her mental heath -- does that outweigh the risks? What exactly are the risks? It still seems so unlikely and yet so inevitable.

The Girl did well; her team won both sets. She had a couple of really good saves, and in set one, her spike was the winning point (if memory serves).

Her school won both sets easily, and the coach was wise and sportsmanlike enough to pull almost all the starters when the second set was clearly in the bag and put some sixth- and seventh-graders in to get some experience.

A good day, but tiring.