I intended on doing another post for Asian American Pacific Islander Heritage Month this week, but as I contemplated what to write about, what activities to give you, I thought that isn’t what you need right now. It’s not what I need right now. What we DO need, is an end. THE end. So instead, I have written something we need instead. The End: An Eulogy for the 2020-2021 school year.
When the pandemic hit last March, we thought it might be short lived. We had heard of some far-away issues, and a few cases had even reached the US when I traveled to the OAKE National Conference in Portland. Already feeling burnt out from too much work the previous summer which ended with a trip to school the day after I returned home from my level 2 courses (also in Portland), I spent some of my time at the March conference wandering around outside instead of attending sessions. I skipped PD to instead walk around Portland, eat ramen, get hipster coffee, and spend far too much money at Powell’s Books. All of those books were for my classroom.
Then we came back. On the flight home, I stressed a little bit about wiping down my tray table after seeing the guy behind me do the same. I landed on Sunday, had festival with my middle schoolers on Tuesday, and by Thursday I was throwing music into their hands because I thought we would be out just those few weeks before we could come back to practice for our end of the year concert. But I was wrong. And so our school year ended in a way we did not anticipate, but we started to hope for the coming year to be “back to normal”.
And then…
More cases.
More shutdowns.
Mask mandates and people refusing to wear them.
Pivot.
Out of an abundance of caution.
Plexiglass.
PPE for teachers that was what you would need for about half a day.
Cleaning our own rooms to disinfect between classes.
The Colorado study.
Calculating air exchange.
Instrument masks and bags.
The death of recorder programs for the year.
Let’s not talk about band or choir….
6 feet and no space in our actual rooms to make that happen.
Music in desks.
Carts galore.
No singing.
No shared materials.
Budget slashes.
Online music class.
HYBRID.
Or worse – still having to see all the students in the school and risk ourselves and our families while possibly becoming a super-spreader.
Some people took their retirement.
Some of us walked away from programs we built.
Everyone collectively dreaded what education would look like this year.
2020-2021 was a year that no teacher will ever forget. It changed us. This year changed our profession. It certainly changed music classrooms. This year we innovated, adapted, rewrote, flipped, eliminated, researched, and developed more changes to our programs and curriculums than most of us have had to do our entire careers. All while constantly pivoting, dealing with changing mandates, orders, quarantines, and negative feedback.
We gained Bitmoji rooms, play-alongs, a commitment to more listening and literature, and embraced the chance to have more diversity in our music history lessons. We adapted dances, games, and found ways create individual instrument bags. All the drumming we could stand. We had TikToks, Youtube videos, Insta stories, Facebook groups, and blogs like mine to help us. I always hope that you could use what I could give. We got burnt out on virtual PD. Some of these things will absolutely stay with us for the foreseeable future. Some we will rejoice that we can skip them for awhile and bring them out only once in a while. Our sub plans will never look the same.
Music is not designed to be all technical, history lessons, and understanding of the concepts that we aren’t practicing. No matter your ‘method’, music involves making noise and experimentation. It’s messy, loud, and full of mistakes that make us better for having made them. Music is joy. Music is collective. Community. The 2020-2021 school year forced us to give up much of what makes it community. Yes we taught music. But we didn’t get to keep our heart. Most kids aren’t going to sit back at 40 and think about the great music history lesson we taught them (unless it’s that person who SPEAKS to them). They are going to remember the joy. The performance, the game, the fun they had when they didn’t know they were learning. Lots of things we struggled to have this year, or couldn’t incorporate at all.
We did our best. We are enough. What you did this year is what you NEEDED. If it was tossing out everything you did before, if it was adapting, if it was ditching all concepts for activities that keep the students engaged and on task while giving them a mental break they desperately needed this year.
If you walked away and put yourself first.
We survived teaching in a pandemic the way we needed. As teachers, we will be better for in no matter what we did to survive. Give yourself some grace. Step away. Put that stuff down on the last day of school and leave it be. Walk away from work and give yourself the break you deserve. All we did last summer was figure out how to completely change our entire career’s worth of knowledge to fit new needs. We don’t need new, and we will be able to bring back old as vaccines open for the younger set.
When someone dies, no one rejoices. They celebrate what they brought to this life, their mark on the world, and how they changed our lives. 2020-2021 changed our lives and we can celebrate those changes.
Today I celebrate the loss of identity.
Many of you know I stepped out of the classroom because of my anxiety about the virus and my pre-existing conditions (a repaired congenital heart defect and asthma). Since I have started teaching, my dad, my grandma, both of my aunts, and my uncle have passed, and those were just the family closest to me. My only sister died in 1997, and I have no first cousins. The fear that I would bring the virus home to the only two members of my close family that I have left – my husband and my mom – was more of my worry than myself.
I stepped away from a job I loved, a band program I founded on a cart with no budget, and a workaholic mindset that had me working from 7 am to 5/6pm every night. I stepped away from an identity that I create for myself. Music teacher, band director, choir director, marching band director, musical director, yearbook coordinator. Much of this year, I spent feeling guilt that I stepped away when many of you were still in the classroom, that I didn’t force myself to put up with hybrid, no singing, and all the pivots that 2020-2021 brought despite my anxiety.
For a long time, I believed that I would never retire because my middle school band director died 9 months after his retirement and college choir director 8 months after her retirement. In the last year, I have since decided work cannot become that important that I spend my whole life working, despite the joy and importance of music, to die within a year of retirement. Instead, I choose to find a work life balance so that when retirement does come, the loss of identity doesn’t come with it. No matter the profound effect of my teachers on my life, this is their last lesson for me. And that is the lesson that 2020-2021 gave me. It took a pandemic to force me to to look at my choices, what made up my identity, and how that teacher identity is not all I am.
So raise your cup with me and toast to the things that the 2020-2021 school year brought us, the lasting effects of being a teacher in a pandemic, and the good things that came from it.
Hearts on fire, minds on ice
I really enjoyed reading your post. I am currently in self isolation for 2 weeks as a kindergarten student came to school with CoVid. I often feel this underlying ache & reading this really reminded me where it comes from. This whole year has been so difficult for so many.
<3 Stay safe. This has been a rough year.
This resonates so much with me. I also have a congenital heart defect and asthma. Also cancer treatment, Barrett’s Esophagus (thanks, meds), cold urticaria, chronic hives, and allergies. The district designated me a tier one ADA employee and I’ve been teaching from home since March of 2020. My kids have played rhythms. Many, many, many rhythms. We have studied composer after composer. I’ve even had them stand in the classroom (I have a sub in the room with them) and do some movement. But this is NOT how I do music. So frustrating. So confining. So detached. I can’t wait to get back. My pulmonologist says I’ll be in a mask for at least another year. But I’ve got to either get back in the building or quit.
I’m glad you were able to be distanced. I wish this had been an option for me.
So much of this is true. I can hear your hurt and joy and sorrow and your whole heart in this message. Thank you for writing this and sharing it. This is my 6th year of teaching and has been by far the hardest year yet. I’ve questioned how long I can stay in this profession and also questioned if I did enough this year. So many mixed emotions and I feel like your message gave words to my confusion, anxiety, and mixed feelings about the school year. This was such a blessing to me. Thank you.
Thank you for such an honest- and raw description of what this last year has been. Thank you- as it was very validating to see my own emotions and feelings put on paper by someone else.
There are many things I learned this year that will benefit me teaching in the future- but it did not come without a heavy price on many levels. Melissa- thank you. Your post was much needed.
<3 Thank you and yes. The cost this year was astronomical.
Thank you Melissa AND Susan – Great read this morning Melissa – took many of my thoughts and feelings and put them into words. 🙂 And loved what Susan replied – “There are many things I learned…but it did not come without a heavy price…” This summer I am planning on taking a much needed break and then looking at the many things I did learn and how I can incorporate *SOME* of them into my teaching for the future. Hoping that the future is bright and somewhat ‘normal’ this year. Thank you for your posts!
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What you wrote resonates with so many. A eulogy is definitely appropriate right now. Thank you for all you have done to help those in the trenches in the last year. Know you are appreciated. 🤗
<3 Thank you!
This really spoke to me. Well done! Yes, to those who stepped away, grace, lots of grace. To those who stayed and are so tired we can hardly stand, grace and rest. I struggled with sooooo much anxiety in the fall! It took a pretty big mental toll. But, As much as we lost this year, I feel like we gained more meaningful time. Time with my students meant more. Everything has been so much more intentional. I think it has made me a better teacher. But, I’m glad this year is almost over and that at my school we were able to stay in person all year.
<3 Yes. Lots of intentional work this year!
I identified so much with your “loss of identity” feelings. My district required music to be asynchronous lessons only all year, and it was not “required” that students participate. The overwhelming feeling of being completely unvalued really had me questioning my self worth…because my identity has been tied to my career for my whole adult life. You articulated so well what I was feeling but didn’t have words for.
<3 Sorry for this situation. It definitely changed things.
Wow! Thank you so much for that post! I needed that!
<3 Me too
Thank you, Melissa. <3
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Well said. Thanks for all of your wonderful posts to help us through this year. This was my first year teaching elementary music. While I haven’t really established my true identity as a teacher yet due to COVID, I feel excited knowing that things will only improve year after year, and my options for helping kids experience music will increase. I had the virus back in February, and the hardest part hands down was being away from my students. I need them as much as they need me. And coming to a Title 1 school where music has never been a priority, I’m bound and determined to change that, one day at a time, one kid at a time.
Fight the good fight! What a year to be your first! I hope this summer is a good break for you.
Beautifully written, and a careful reminder to let things go this summer. I love the “hearts on fire, minds on ice”. Thank you
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Melissa,
WOW. Your words certainly ring true in my music teacher heart and soul. It has been a tough year. The end is near and boy… do we all need the break to revive and find our selves. Thank you for sharing so much with us this year.
Judy in Maryland
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