As I would say to my statistics classes, the average is not the interesting measure, it’s those measures of variability, what makes things different from the average, that we really need to pay attention to. And lately, we have been challenged by an intense amount of variability, haven’t we? Since mid-March, our worlds have been turned upside down in a way that we couldn’t have predicted or planned for. In my household, my family of five found new ways to coexist and connect while we navigated remote school and work. And in my role as Dean of Faculty, a relatively new step in my fifteen years at Bullis, I have been so moved by the creativity and care from our Bullis faculty, who have been rapidly responding and adapting to changing expectations, teaching modalities, and technologies for months. Once again, these fluctuations from the average steal our attention and grab our energies. Reflecting on all that has changed, I think we are starting to wonder… what will be our new “average”?
Technology is often cited as a change maker—keep up or the curve may end up too steep. Throughout the pandemic, technology has become even more central to connecting us, perhaps in some new, maybe even strange, ways. Some I hope stick with us, as they have enriched our lives and relationships, but others I am eager to see exit with the pandemic. Those who know me well are aware of my propensity to “lose my phone” the minute I arrive home from school, as I find myself more than ready to disconnect from one world and connect with my other as a wife, mother and avid hobbyist. However, in these COVID times, I am sure you can relate to the almost exponential increase in emails and texts, necessitated by a world in need of speed. Fast-paced decisions and quick responses became the name of the game.
The notifications on our phones have become the Morse code of our times—various pings and dings that let us know a meeting is coming up or a message awaits. On more occasions than I care to admit, our no-tech dinner rule has been broken by three or more dings coming in quick succession from a sender signaling urgency with texting fingers…or the sound of messages from multiple senders alerting me that some new information has been released that I should know about. Only a glance at my phone can tell. Teachers navigating, and sometimes creating, expectations and learning environments in response to constantly changing conditions. They continue to field emails and messages in an endless cycle that leaves them exhausted, perhaps tuned to be a little too sensitive to these tiny noises.
I hope that the reliance on, and habit of, constant communication and high alert mode will once again give way to gentler and more patient forms of connection and contemplation. That sounds delightfully Zen.
Video became how we would teach our classes and hold meetings, but it also allowed us to see the emotions of a student struggling with a concept, and emote our care back.
However, it’s kind of remarkable how various meeting platforms once used primarily for conferences or business meetings have saved us in some ways, too, right? They remind us that we are not alone by connecting us to friends, preserve long-standing family traditions, and bring about new joyful celebrations. I look back and wonder why it took a pandemic for our far-flung family to use Zoom to stay in touch more regularly, connecting over virtual drinks and dinner, when before we may have settled for short phone calls or email exchanges with many participants and stilted dialogue.
While screen fatigue is real, I can’t help but think about how video has helped our Bullis community connect throughout the pandemic. Of course, it became how we would teach our classes and hold meetings, but it also allowed us to see the emotions of a student struggling with a concept, and emote our care back. It helps us to unite in our challenges and join forces in our solutions by jumping on a video meet-up as so many teachers did this summer to ask questions and discuss plans for the fall. Even now that the campus is open and we might be able to meet in person, we continue to use video meetings on occasion, preferring to watch the effect of our words spelled out on another’s entire face. Video has also provided us some moments of much-needed levity and joy, helping us all feel a little more human. If someone had told me that I would be hosting happy hours, coffees, trivia, and games in any format, let alone remotely, I would have responded with “fat chance!” But these have become important markers for members of our community that make us feel and connect, and I hope we will continue to prioritize.
Teaching has so many new considerations, some steeped in a pedagogical approach that may change the landscape of education for years to come, and others purely logistical. Tasks that teachers would typically move through with ease, such as taking attendance or making sure all students can see the board, require whole new systems and technologies. Setting up my Upper School statistics class is a study in concentration and patience as I connect one laptop to an external camera and projector, another laptop to the tablet on which I write our notes, and finally connect my phone for attendance and tracking student progress on assignments…this mess of wires and adaptors, when correctly connected, connects us. I have been so humbled by the grace extended by the students as I occasionally fumble through a setup or set the room humming with a feedback loop that I can’t mute fast enough. Teachers serve as models for their students—and throughout these times, Bullis students have been witness to the unfailing commitment, perseverance, empathy, and good humor of their teachers in the face of challenge and change.
As a member of a community where growth is prioritized, I examine these experiences for takeaways that I will use to do better in my role. Always the math teacher, for me it comes back to statistics. It is the variability, the difference, the outliers that make this world interesting. The Bullis community is filled with individuals with different skills and needs, including our faculty. We must use whatever is in our grip to learn and understand them, to meet them where they are, to nurture them. Some may be up for a Zoom coffee break while others may just want an evening without email. Acknowledging that this variability is the key to a vibrant community, coupled with the knowledge of the intricacies, will help us provide pathways for teachers to be their very best, in turn helping our students thrive. The technologies and habits that remain beyond this pandemic may be up to us; but I know we will remain centered as a caring, challenging community.
This article is featured in the Fall/Winter 2021 issue of Bullis Magazine.
- Bullis Magazine
- Faculty
- Fall/Winter 2021
