We were actors in a theatre of hygiene.
Every morning staff checked students’ temperatures with forehead thermometers as they entered school. Coming in from the cold winter air invariably lowered the digital reading by four or five degrees. Upon arrival, I, too, dutifully took my temperature and recorded it on the staff roster. On paper we all had hypothermia.
Schools had gone to a “soft start” so students had time to answer questions about their wellbeing while getting their faux temperature taken. The answers were usually the same day in and day out: yes, they felt fine. No, they hadn’t sneezed or coughed.
We also cut classes short in order to sanitize desks and other classroom materials between periods even though scientists have said that COVID-19 is primarily transmitted from person to person and not from exposure to contaminated surfaces. Some days, headache-inducing chemicals wafted through the air. Children kept lotion on their desks to combat the dryness from the relentless application of hand sanitizer. Some teachers went so far as to remove posters and student work from the walls. The empty walls, artificial odors, and masked faces did create a sense of sterility, not of disease, but of connection.
Establishing a relationship with students as a substitute teacher isn’t easy under normal circumstances. Try getting the attention of 27 fifth graders through a mask. You will need a cough drop by the end of the day. Three-quarters of communication is nonverbal. How much of that is lost when half the face is covered? How many times did I miss a child’s look of confusion or frustration? For what?
Young students don’t wear masks like adults. They tug and pull at them. They manage to pick their noses or wiggle a loose tooth. If masks get moist with saliva they actually become a vector for disease. Turn your back for a moment and second graders, like kittens, will snuggle together or rough house.
Policing masks, temperature taking, and over-sanitizing — these rituals must have made some people feel better — but along with mask breaks, extra recesses, hand washing time-outs, and learn-at-home days, they took time from actual learning.
Some days, we only managed an hour or two of core academics. Even this little bit of in-person education seemed preferable to what I observed online. Disengaged students didn’t log in and didn’t turn in work. Those present were less likely to engage in discussion or ask questions. “Asynchronous learning time” was spent doing anything but learning.
The harm done last year wasn’t limited to elementary school students. For example, high school students told me they did not feel prepared to advance in science.
Itap not surprising that the average kid lost 116 days of reading and 215 days math work according to a study by Eric Hanushek and Margaret Raymond at Stanford University. A McKinsey & Co. report estimates that students are starting school this fall on average five months behind in mathematics and five months behind in reading. Students in low-income schools are seven months behind. Both analyses predict that unless made up, the missed learning will have lifelong consequences for these students in terms of earning potential.
This cannot happen again and it need not. Although I substituted primarily in public schools, I also guest taught at a large private high school where the majority of students attended in person every day. No outbreak occurred and learning was uninterrupted.
This year, we have vaccines for adults and students over 12 years old which are highly effective in preventing severe infection, hospitalization, and death. Even when not vaccinated, children are less likely to get COVID-19, transmit the virus, or develop a serious case. Are we willing to sacrifice their education, mental wellbeing, and future prospects for the sake of unvaccinated adults?
Krista L. Kafer is a weekly Denver Post columnist. Follow her on Twitter: @kristakafer.
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