It’s nice being married sometimes. I mean, being married is great all the time. But there are specific moments when you realize...wow! This other person cares about my health and wellbeing.
Caroline thought I was going to die for a total of about five seconds the other night. She noticed a brown, slightly discolored splotch on my arm when I rolled over the go to sleep. Immediately, her brain must’ve projected images of me succumbing to some vicious, fast-acting melanoma. She was widowed and alone, left to care for a fatherless Eliza. She grabbed my arm to show me, misty-eyed and scared.
It wasn’t a mole, though. It was chocolate. From my mother-in-law’s M&M cookies we were eating on the couch.
She cares, which is nice. That’s how you know the person you’re with is the one -- when they start hectoring you about your health. I knew Caroline was in it for the long haul when we started fighting about sunscreen. She wants me around. This is where you say…”awww!”
This is the final week of the quarter. I’m grading nonstop, and hunting down students for missing work which, if I’m honest, I’ve been doing since February. Students have always struggled with “work completion,” and teachers have always fretted about it. It’s only gotten worse this year. Now, on top of all the typical reasons students struggle to finish assignments, they’re also burnt out, and like us, they’re brains have been broken by this yearlong pandemic.
I’ve felt a strong obligation to keep my students afloat, emotionally and academically. I’ve tried to keep it simple, and emphasize the stuff that matters, while tuning into how they’re coping with the apocalypse. But they also need to be held accountable, and they’re expected to handle a typical volume of coursework. Because it’s not simply enough for them to navigate this global crisis like the rest of us, there are also formative assessments to complete.
Anyway, here I am. Inputting numbers. Granting extensions. Calling parents. Trying to figure out how to grade one-paragraph essays that might as well be written in crayon because the student “just needs to get it done.” All the while hoping that the math adds up in their favor.
At least there’s a new (old) Taylor Swift album.
There has to be a better way. I suppose I could be more rigid with deadlines, less inclined to give students a break. But I went to a high school with a strong “sink or swim” mentality, and I keep that kind of thinking as far from my classroom as possible. Never made sense to me as a student, and it doesn’t make sense to me now.
Anyway...back to work.
Eliza Update! (By the Numbers Version)
27 (as of this writing)
Different foods Eliza’s tried so far. She lights up whenever we stick a spoonful of apple sauce in her face. Pureed green beans? Not so much.
1
Soiled Easter Dress. At least she waited until after we took pictures.
2
Teeth. They work, too. Watch your fingers.