As I write this, I hear Greg speaking fluently in Spanish around the corner. Lilly is laying under the table near him, Ash is lounging somewhere on a bed in the sun. Today is Greg’s live teaching day and later he’ll head up to the school and then the golf course to start (or re-start since the season only got one week into it when the pandemic hit) his role as an assistant coach for the fall season. Soccer, normally nearing the end of district play right now, is slated to start in February.
I hear many stories of what it’s like for kids to do remote teaching. I hear stories of what parents are going through. And I hear stories of what teachers are going through. But no one talks about what it’s like to be the spouse of a remote teacher.
Before I start in, let me say that I know that the district Greg teaches in has done as good of job as possible in this continually changing scenario. Right now, the elementary school kids are back in session and soon the middle school kids will go back. But the way it’s looking, it will be Thanksgiving when the high school kids, of which Greg teaches, will return, so we anticipate him not to return to the classroom to teach until January.
I have worked at home most of my career outside of my own days teaching back, well, we don’t need to discuss how far back that was. But at the time I was teaching, my sister Karen was working at home and I remember how between meetings she was walking her dogs and taking care of laundry. There was always something she could do when she had a few minutes away from her job. I saw the benefit of working from home through her.
My first husband worked in sales and he, too, worked at home when we were married. I quickly fell into a routine that after my run, shower, and breakfast, I would tackle work first thing. There were always phone calls to make and emails to answer. I have loved the flexibility to keep up with the house and other projects (historically for me, that was writing although about five years ago it turned to writing and sewing) and for seven years on a military grief study, I had a boss who left me alone. As long at the job was done, quite honestly, he didn’t care about the rest. That was fine by me.
Greg is a classroom and soccer field guy. He loves the energy of the kids and being in front of them, and possibly throwing their phone in the trash (yes, it has happened). As they are missing the energy of him, the rest of their teachers, and their friends, he, too, is missing their energy.
He’s not used to sitting most of the day, which he has to do for live teaching day and then for office hours and other assorted meetings. I hate zoom and the precursor I had to use to interview kids for the grief study and for meetings. I hated to sit there and stare at a screen when I could have been folding laundry at the same time. Sitting and staring at a screen all day goes against everything we have been telling people about getting up and moving around (something Greg also lets his students do in the classroom).
Because of this constant sitting and staring, and the fact that he’s had to learn how to do something new (which in itself is not a bad thing), he’s drifted away from me. I tell him things, he will say okay or act as if he heard me, but I find out later when I mention whatever it was, he claims I never told him. No no no, we’re not talking about “spouse selective hearing.” Believe me, I know the difference.
I don’t mind having him at home because we have separate spaces and I’m off in my own world (plus I have my Qatar Airlines ear plugs if I need them to drown out the Spanish). But I miss the separation we had during the day because it made me appreciate him more. I knew about what time he’d be home and I’d make every effort to be done working so that we could spend our short evenings together.
While I worry about the mental health of the students (he has some who “gather” during his office hours as they might in his classroom at lunch, but they are doing it virtually because they can’t be together otherwise), I also worry about the mental health of our teachers who love to teach, who are in the classroom not because it’s the only thing they thought they could do (as I have heard some people say about teachers), but because they truly want to help kids learn.
This has been a struggle for them so it also means it’s a challenge for those of us who care about them as we watch this play out. I hope that at least being outside on the golf course with a small group starting today will make a difference as this situation continues to drag itself out. We know how lucky we are in New Mexico that we can always escape into the sunshine that reminds us that no matter what’s happening around us, all is well.