Imagine a public school system where there are no disciplinary issues. There’s no bullying. There’s no threat of violence. Where learning and social distractions are kept apart. Where geography is no barrier to school choice.
That would be pandemic schooling. Everybody’s been doing it for the last few weeks, and it’s working.
If we adopt some of its concepts in a post-pandemic society, we will still want to get meals to kids who need them. We will still want to provide social opportunities for students and opportunities to play on sports teams. We will still need to provide services to students with special needs.
And we can do all those things.
Maybe this post-pandemic schooling is for high school students only. After all, they don’t require child care. (And one should assume their parents will be back to work after the COVID crisis, by the way.) But that’s something.
Many schools have given laptops to all students. We have ways to communicate with our students. If they don’t want to be seen in ragged clothes, they can turn the camera off. Everyone can mute their microphones until they are ready to speak. That way, there’s no goofing around between students, no dogs barking, and no babies crying. And bubble chats also work just fine.
I must say, I have asked disruptive students to leave my class in my career. But now, I could temporarily disinvite a disruptive student with one click.
I can invite the principal to review my lessons. Not my lesson plans — my actual lessons. By accessing the history function, the principal can do that by scrolling through them. Students can make up lessons by scrolling as well. And I can see if they have done it.
There are all kinds of short video clips and short readings one can show and then discuss. For instance, I just showed a ten minute clip on the Thirty Years’ War. It encapsulated a relatively complex topic much better than I could have.
I don’t want to plug any particular technology. But on one platform, we can assign work, the students can turn it in, we can comment on it, and then we can “return” it. We use a grading system that students and parents can easily access. Some of these technologies we use in ordinary times, but they make remote learning possible — even desirable.
Attendance has been good. Participation has been good. Parents get an email wherever it isn’t. Homework completion can be good, depending on its weight in the grades.
Many students don’t mind attending remotely, and many prefer it. They’re not bullied. They’re not harassed. They’re not picked on. They’re not made to feel uncomfortable.
Should we be toughening them up for the “real world”? Actually the school world can be much crueler.
In addition to not needing to maintain large, expensive buildings or run costly buses, we don’t need to employ school police. There is no threat of school shootings, nor of the more common stabbings and other assaults.
The National Institutes of Health tell us that nearly one in three teenagers experience an anxiety disorder. Nearly that many have clinical depression. Isolating can be counterproductive, so it’s important to provide the opportunities to grow and thrive socially. But perhaps it’s time to separate schooling from the social distractions. Education is just too important.
Research has shown homeschoolers have just as many friends. Social media has largely made that possible. Homeschoolers complete college at a higher rate than public-schoolers. This is a function of social skills as well as academic skills.
In a remote-learning world, school choice would not be limited by geography. Students wouldn’t need a ride to the school of choice. That is, if we even maintain “school” as a concept. What if a school has a strong math program but a weak English program, and students choose the best of each? Why should a student have to take the weak English classes to access the strong math classes? The concept of school as we know it may be completely transformed by this pandemic.
There are online schools now. But a real paradigm shift could occur now that we realize remote learning isn’t as bad as we thought. Teachers, often resistant to change, have had to change.
There will be a new normal to all facets of life as a result of this crisis. Just imagine how this could change education for the better.
Curtis Hier is a 33-year veteran teacher from Vermont.
