Day 1: I have the best job in the world.

 It's Monday morning. It's the third day in a row of rain. It's the millionth week of virtual school, 50 weeks into a pandemic. And there are twenty two of my twenty four preschoolers in my Zoom room at 9am. They are radiating enthusiasm with their smiling faces, waving hands, and wiggly, dancing bodies. How are they this spectacular? PJs, messy hair, eating breakfast, blanket nests, snuggling lovies, and being assisted by grandparents. We are all jamming out to one of our many morning entry songs, clapping and singing Good morning! Good morning! Good morning, How are you? Over and over. We always spend the first five minutes of the call getting everyone into Zoom and dancing together. This morning I spent each of those minutes beaming with gratitude that I get to have this job. 

I miss being in-person with my kiddos. I miss the quiet of my classroom early in the morning and its stark contrast to the buzz of preschoolers playing together, pulling out clunky blocks, bins of toy animals, the big wooden dollhouse, and boxes of puzzles. I miss getting messy with them, our hands covered in paint or mud or gak. I miss the tired you can only feel after a full day of school with a class full of tiny learners, all with their big emotions and endless curiosity. I miss a lot about teaching pre-pandemic. 

As much as I miss it, I can't say that being virtual has been bad. I am floored at the positive attitudes of my teaching team, the enthusiasm and attention of my students, and the understanding and grace from their families. This morning's positive start is the norm, not the exception. I cannot fathom how all of these families have made the time and space in their lives to prioritize their preschoolers' online schooling and show up every day. When I talk to teacher-friends in other other schools, and many in other states, they are not feeling this positive about virtual school. I hear stories of disengaged kids and families, of major Zoom fatigue, of exhaustion from making all these plans that deviate so much from the work we all signed up to do before Covid. I feel for them, and wish that I could share what I have this year. 

It's not only my committed class and their daily presence that has made distance learning feel ok, it's my trusting and transparent leadership team at my school. The message we receive from them day in and day out is their goal to keep staff, as well as students, safe, and that our mental health is important. I feel valued and respected. We are meeting as a staff in coming days to work out next steps for creating in-person learning opportunities and I trust that we will get to collaborate and plan together as a team, rather than being told by our principals what to do. 

At closing circle today, we voted on which instrument we liked better and why (We are in week two of a music unit, and today was gong vs finger cymbal). One of my students moved from DC to Maine over the weekend, and after communicating with his family about how to best support him and his emotions about moving, we decided that he would probably really like to share with his classmates that he moved to a new house. We called on him and he told us a few details about the big truck that helped take his toys to his new house and that he and Mr. Dinosaur really liked his new room. One of his classmates waved at the camera and when we called on her, she asked him, "Did your sister move with you too? Is your whole family there?" It was remarkably sweet to see these three year olds connect this way. He assured her that his whole family moved with him and even flipped the laptop around so we could see his sister working at the table.  After this exchange and a few more shares about the instruments, we all sang our goodbye song and put on another song to dance out the day, and one typically quiet, but engaged, kiddo unmuted himself and said "I love you. Bye!"

Yeah, I have the best job in the world.