Day 8: Time Flies
It's hard to know where time goes in a day. It's now well past 8 pm and I feel this has been another full and successful day, but basically everything on that checklist of "things I can get done now that I don't have to go to work" remains unchecked.
I hear from some of our students that they don't have time to do all their schoolwork, although the teachers are aiming to assign only a few hours per day of work. Even though the kids have cleared the 6-8 hours per day of school off their schedule, it's hard for even the most dedicated ones to complete some of the work expected.
I think some of this, for all of us, is the odd way time gets eaten up in these unusual times and some of it is adjusting to the new situation and figuring out how to structure our lives. Some relates to the stresses we feel in uncertain times. And maybe a fair bit is the time some of us spend listening more intently to the news, let alone the time we might dedicate to wondering about what ifs in a time when almost everything can feel like an unknown.
So where did my time go today? Awake at 6:00 but stayed in bed reading Middlesex until 7:30, then checked news on the phone until about 8, when I fell back to sleep until 8:30. After my 5 minutes of stretching, I ate my cereal and was on my computer by 9. Responded to email and then wrote a communication to all school stakeholders (included below), then worked on designing an on-line version of our "Becoming America" course we had started for 2 days before school was closed. Of course, all the while I had VPR on in the background, and this often now draws away my attention to find new news about the virus and our altered world.
That took me to 10:45, when I went to meet a friend who helps schools with restorative justice and mindfulness and we went for a walk (with appropriate distancing) that lasted until our faculty meeting at 12:30. Ate some lunch with the sound muted (although I only half realize everyone can see me eating anyway) and joined in particularly on our discussion of workload for kids, what may be making them feel overwhelmed, and planning for the rest of the year to try to lessen some of the uncertainty we think weighs heavily on some kids.
That lasted until close to 2:30, with a little time in there to write an end of the week note to parents about our faculty planning and ideas about workload. Then Jennifer and I went to Smugglers Notch to skin up and ski in brilliant afternoon sunshine and mostly perfect spring snow. We got back about 6, in time for me to make a bunch of fixins for tacos while I facetimed with my parents (who are finally not eating in the shared dining hall at their retirement community). And now it's 9:00, which seems well time for weekend mode.
I guess there's nothing to complain about there and maybe I should celebrate this much appreciated mix of work, exercise, and food. For the numbers oriented (like me), that was 4 hours of work (maybe 5.5 if I count my walk where we talked about education the whole time and 6+ if I count writing this blog), 3.5 hours of exercise, 2.5 hours of food prep and eating, an hour or so driving, and a couple hours of reading (there's another hour so in there but close enough). I guess there is a small degree of guilt about not working more (somehow the 8 hour workday seems an ingrained standard) but I think this forced isolation may be making us all look more closely at what work we do is truly needed and productive, and how much we do things that fill time but maybe aren't completely essential (as so little we do is on the order of something that is life or death or so immediately important).
Once again, I come back to my modality of acceptance and following what feels right at the moment. Maybe this will catch up to me and I'll find I never found time to get to all these things I was thinking I'd get done in this time, but for now, it still feels like all I got is time.
For those interested in how I shared the news of school being closed for the remainder of the year, here's what I wrote to parents, students, and teachers this morning:
As I assume most of you know by now, the Governor decided all schools in Vermont will be closed for in-person schooling for the remainder of the year. This is obviously disappointing on so many levels. There is so much of the spring program at Compass that form the foundation of learning, from the interdisciplinary 11-12th grade classes to the Decades Museum to Spring Trips, Project Week, and celebrations of learning for graduation and our last night celebration night.
It's hard to know where time goes in a day. It's now well past 8 pm and I feel this has been another full and successful day, but basically everything on that checklist of "things I can get done now that I don't have to go to work" remains unchecked.
I hear from some of our students that they don't have time to do all their schoolwork, although the teachers are aiming to assign only a few hours per day of work. Even though the kids have cleared the 6-8 hours per day of school off their schedule, it's hard for even the most dedicated ones to complete some of the work expected.
I think some of this, for all of us, is the odd way time gets eaten up in these unusual times and some of it is adjusting to the new situation and figuring out how to structure our lives. Some relates to the stresses we feel in uncertain times. And maybe a fair bit is the time some of us spend listening more intently to the news, let alone the time we might dedicate to wondering about what ifs in a time when almost everything can feel like an unknown.
So where did my time go today? Awake at 6:00 but stayed in bed reading Middlesex until 7:30, then checked news on the phone until about 8, when I fell back to sleep until 8:30. After my 5 minutes of stretching, I ate my cereal and was on my computer by 9. Responded to email and then wrote a communication to all school stakeholders (included below), then worked on designing an on-line version of our "Becoming America" course we had started for 2 days before school was closed. Of course, all the while I had VPR on in the background, and this often now draws away my attention to find new news about the virus and our altered world.
That took me to 10:45, when I went to meet a friend who helps schools with restorative justice and mindfulness and we went for a walk (with appropriate distancing) that lasted until our faculty meeting at 12:30. Ate some lunch with the sound muted (although I only half realize everyone can see me eating anyway) and joined in particularly on our discussion of workload for kids, what may be making them feel overwhelmed, and planning for the rest of the year to try to lessen some of the uncertainty we think weighs heavily on some kids.
That lasted until close to 2:30, with a little time in there to write an end of the week note to parents about our faculty planning and ideas about workload. Then Jennifer and I went to Smugglers Notch to skin up and ski in brilliant afternoon sunshine and mostly perfect spring snow. We got back about 6, in time for me to make a bunch of fixins for tacos while I facetimed with my parents (who are finally not eating in the shared dining hall at their retirement community). And now it's 9:00, which seems well time for weekend mode.
I guess there's nothing to complain about there and maybe I should celebrate this much appreciated mix of work, exercise, and food. For the numbers oriented (like me), that was 4 hours of work (maybe 5.5 if I count my walk where we talked about education the whole time and 6+ if I count writing this blog), 3.5 hours of exercise, 2.5 hours of food prep and eating, an hour or so driving, and a couple hours of reading (there's another hour so in there but close enough). I guess there is a small degree of guilt about not working more (somehow the 8 hour workday seems an ingrained standard) but I think this forced isolation may be making us all look more closely at what work we do is truly needed and productive, and how much we do things that fill time but maybe aren't completely essential (as so little we do is on the order of something that is life or death or so immediately important).
Once again, I come back to my modality of acceptance and following what feels right at the moment. Maybe this will catch up to me and I'll find I never found time to get to all these things I was thinking I'd get done in this time, but for now, it still feels like all I got is time.
For those interested in how I shared the news of school being closed for the remainder of the year, here's what I wrote to parents, students, and teachers this morning:
As I assume most of you know by now, the Governor decided all schools in Vermont will be closed for in-person schooling for the remainder of the year. This is obviously disappointing on so many levels. There is so much of the spring program at Compass that form the foundation of learning, from the interdisciplinary 11-12th grade classes to the Decades Museum to Spring Trips, Project Week, and celebrations of learning for graduation and our last night celebration night.
Maybe most significantly, we feel the portfolio process is a powerful experience which leads students to reflect on their accomplishments, strengths and areas for growth, to honor their growth and have this honored by others, and to share together as a learning community learning from each other.
We will be working as a staff, and welcome your input, into developing the best program to achieve our valued educational goals. I think many of these learning experiences can be adapted to more remote processes and we can create other, meaningful learning experiences in this new environment. I'm confident the portfolio process will be an important part of any plan we make.
We are endlessly appreciative of the capacity of our staff to work together with positive energy, intelligence, creativity, and compassion. We feel well positioned to do our part to make the most of schooling in these unusual times. We need you to do your part to support schooling in your homes by structuring learning time and, most importantly, being in communication with us. Our biggest challenge so far is connecting with students and parents who we haven't heard from. Obviously under current stay safe orders, it's hard to physically get to kids who are falling behind. We depend on you keeping up with expectations from school, or at least being communicative with us if you are facing challenges or need support.
We will continue to push out communications as things continue to evolve. We are optimistic about our ability to support quality learning in these difficult times. We encourage students to work together (via the internet) as a way to feel connected. I know the teachers are enjoying their interactions with students and seeing the work they're doing. In some ways, this is allowing for different, and sometimes deeper, connections than we sometimes have when in person.
There obviously are so many losses we feel in these times of social distancing. At the same time, I hope we can all be appreciative of the many blessings in our lives. I know the Compass staff is greatly appreciative of the connections they are having with each other and the students.
Wishing you all the best,
Rick Gordon
Director
Compass School
Compass School
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