PART 4 - Saved

It turns out Marty's apprehension about starting a new semester online was wrong—it turned out far worse than she imagined. While many teachers did lots of preparation for day one, everyone knew there would be bumps. Some you could predict. Others you could not. Marty's institution got double-hit by a decision made the previous year before the word covid was known to every American. They had decided to switch teaching platforms from google classroom to canvas or the other way around, though it doesn't really matter as they are both equally good and bad all at once. Without a pandemic in the mix, a conversion of this magnitude is sure to wreak it's share of havoc. With a pandemic afoot, having it categorized as anything short of a full-catastrophe is the best one could hope for.

The issues quickly out-paced the school's ability to support. There are many terms to describe the outcome. Shoulder-rolling. Face-planting. Bailing-water. Lost-cause. Choose your descriptor. That was the state in the first few days and weeks of their shiny new school year.

I can count on two hands the number of times I have seen my wife cry in the thirty years we have been together. Technically I didn't see it happen this time because she was at work, but when she came home, I knew. This process, the mounting failures, the senseless march forward, these things finally broke her. A colleague saw it. They hadn't known her thirty years, but they knew her long enough to realize they were witnessing something rare. In these moments, I've learned to do little more than making myself available and listen. There's a process that needs to happen, and I have found it best to let that process unfold naturally.

Later that evening, Marty received an email. It was from an administrator at the school. Curiously, Marty taught her decades earlier. The woman spoke of how sorry she was for the troubles Marty was having. She said it was unfortunate that her current students didn't get to experience her first-hand and her full-frontal energy. She also shared a story she remembered hearing when a friend applied for the same job Marty did (when Marty was returning to teaching after a ten year break to raise our kids). The girl mentioned this to her father, who was familiar with Marty and the new applicant. In hearing the news, he said it was a tough break for his daughter's friend because "who could possibly be better than Marty Walter." This young woman, in her email to Marty this night, promised that she would make sure Marty received support the next day until all of the technical issues were worked out, and Marty could get back to doing what she was there to do—teach.

Marty and I were both dubious of this person's ability to deliver what she generously promised. But the next day, they had pulled multiple people together to ensure Marty had coverage for every teaching hour, and they addressed the numerous issues throughout the day. I feel as though the universe and karma deliver just enough to keep the believers believing.

Of course, this new teaching continues to be an adventure but one that she, and others, are navigating with growing competence. It is neat to hear of the innovations Marty and others are coming up with to combat the many challenges before them. I see inspiring examples of perseverance all around. And while I would never say Marty would ever come to a point of preferring this teaching model, it does seem that given enough time she could become confident and competent in this new format. Though honestly, I think for a tech-challenged extrovert like Marty there would always be an uphill and joyless quality to it. So I don't see this new-way working for her long. I imagine for some people, they might prefer a remote learning model as there are likely some perks once you get your curriculum re-set, but it would take, I believe, a special skillset and person.

As an aside, a few weeks after the support incident, two administrators from Marty and Alex's school came to our home in the middle of the school day. The reason they unexpectedly knocked on our door was Alex was named student of the week. This recognition came for a new role he was playing in helping other teachers record and share their lessons. This essentially entailed doing for other teachers at the school what he did for his mother in the Spring. For teachers with hands-on courses like woodshop and auto repair, this was more of a requirement than a nicety. The fact is, the school created a new experiential class they could enroll Alex into to get him proper credit for the work he was doing. And at the end of all of that, they used the videos Alex made to start an in-school video library they plan on using post-pandemic for students who miss these hard to repeat lessons.

But back to the two people at my door. I realized that one of the people standing on my front porch was the lady who saved Marty weeks earlier. I interrupted our son's decoration to thank her for what she did for my wife. She played it off as many are wont to do in that situation, but I wouldn't have it. I told her how much it meant to Marty and how much it meant to me. I wanted to hug her but, of course, could not. But my emotion was evident. While Marty may only cry, on average, once every five years, I make up for it by crying about five times every year.

NEXT Part V - Meanwhile, at home