Teachers are used to rolling with the punches; in any school day a hundred plans can change in a hundred different ways. But these are — to use the phrase of the year — unprecedented times.
The weeks before the school holidays were characterised by atypical levels of anxiety among teachers. In addition to the general society-wide COVID-induced stress, schools were deemed 'safe' and 'essential'. This was despite the extreme difficulty of maintaining the recommended social distancing and hygiene practices in these settings. Some schools were even running out of soap, while others had no appropriate hand-sanitiser.
While we were given assurances by public figures that it was safe to send children to school, there was very little talk about the wellbeing of teachers in these environments. Additionally, the messages we were getting from the government were unclear: we were dealing with Schrodinger's children, who were simultaneously safe from virus, but also were a risk to their grandparents and the community if sent home. If they’re a risk to their grandparents, how were they not also a risk to their teachers?
I say this not to necessarily argue for school closures — no doubt there are some strong arguments for keeping schools open when at all possible — but to explain why anxiety was so high for many teachers. The high baseline levels of stress, the government's failure to provide clear messaging and schools' inability to enact best-practice hygiene policy left many school staff feeling like sacrificial lambs. Even with students at home, some teachers are being asked to physically attend school, where they have to share crowded staff rooms, toilets, and kitchen facilities with dozens of other people, from whom they struggle to socially distance.
Now teachers have, with little guidance and limited professional development, been asked to fundamentally redesign our schools. Good thing we were given a whole extra week of pupil-free days to achieve this goal.
I don't want to sound too ungrateful, because there isn't a playbook for this scenario, but if all it took to build a passable digital schooling ecosystem was a week of hard work, we'd have done it long ago. We haven't been asked to turn on a dime, we've been asked to pirouette.
'We often think of teachers as people who have all the answers. And, indeed, teachers are highly trained professionals with a specific skill set. They aren’t, however, perfect.'
Teachers are resourceful, but moving to an exclusively digital medium is well beyond the experience of many. This is, of course, no individual's fault; nobody has asked them to do this before (nor at such short notice). While some fundamentals remain the same, digital pedagogy requires very different thinking to standard teaching. The rapid uptake of new forms of practice is understandably going to be a real challenge and stressor for some.
Additionally, there are matters of equity to be considered. The digital divide is real. While the Victorian government is getting devices and internet access to students at government schools — South Australia, Queensland and NSW are still looking into it — there will be teachers who can’t guarantee students will have a device suitable for online learning, let alone a stable internet connection through which they can download learning materials. Normally, teachers have a certain degree of control over the learning environment, even if they cannot control what goes on at home. When home becomes the learning environment, the factors for consideration multiply exponentially. Many students with additional needs, such as those with disabilities, will also be forced into learning situations where they do not have their usual support structures.
Though schools are working around the issue of accessibility, for many it is an afterthought in the rush to reinvent the wheel. And who can blame them for having imperfect systems in place? The wheel is falling off the car and we are being asked to keep driving. The 'solution' for accessibility is, however, often to mail students paper copies of worksheets and activities. There is little doubt that these low-tech solutions will create a second-class of learner in those unable to access the higher-quality digital resources. This group of students — who are often already disadvantaged for socioeconomic, cultural, or other reasons — may experience a further widening in the educational gap between themselves and their peers.
But, also, we must be careful not to blame individual teachers for these outcomes. Rather, school systems need to put structures in place that ensure equity for those who are vulnerable and at risk of missing out.
We often think of teachers as people who have all the answers. And, indeed, teachers are highly trained professionals with a specific skill set. They aren’t, however, perfect.
Undoubtedly, there will be growing pains. But what we need to do is provide teachers with the resources and room to grow. Since this is untrodden ground, there might be a bit of initial throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks. Though there is some self-interest in this request, I am hoping that parents, students, and schooling systems can be gentle and patient with teachers who have been thrust into a new frontier and acknowledge that we're all in this boat together.
Despite my concerns, the shift to online learning also presents a unique opportunity. While certain digital technologies can be a barrier for some, they can also improve accessibility for others. In fact some research indicates that, when done properly, online education (particularly a hybrid of in-person and online) can be even more effective than face-to-face learning alone. As someone who has worked with university bridging courses, many of which were offered partially or entirely online, I have seen the power of online learning to change lives. If teachers are given appropriate training, and schools are given the resources to differentiate learning for those who need it, this could be a valuable chance to upskill many teachers in a way that will improve our education system for years to come.
Tim Hutton is a teacher, masters student and freelance writer based in Brisbane. He writes on politics, education, media, societal issues, and the intersection of all of the above.