My classroom has now reached an epidemic level of flu cases over the past week. It's to the point that each day includes sending at least one child home early, followed by me spraying down the entire classroom with bleach at the end of the day. It's brutal.
But, this epidemic has also brought a solid halt to our educational routine. Granite, I work with two year olds-- we don't have a staunch educational program and we definately are not preparing for the WASL. Yet, we have our circle time at 9 am every day. We read the book of the week (which is nearly memorized come Friday), go through our flashcards (animals+sounds, foods, simple Spanish), and do a simple group activity that requires a bit of physicial movement. As of late, circle time is a no-go. When you have two kids crying because their guts are rumbling, one with diahrea and another who's temperature just read 103 degrees, circle time seems kind of fluffy. Physical child care, caring for the health of the child, is a much more immediate need.
So the books are pushed aside. By the afternoon art project, we are down to half our class size as parents come for their ill children. How can you justify hanging art on the wall that only represents 1/2 your students? By the end of the day, I don't even have enough students left to be concidered "school"-- it's more like personal tutoring at that point.
Up until tonight, I've just seen this epedemic as annoying in my efforts to conduct a proper classroom atmosphere. After reading Sapon-Shevin's "Building a Safe Community for Learning" I have realized what is really happening in my classroom. My classroom community is being upheaved. I have one little boy who has been out with the flu for an entire week now. The first few days the other kids would ask, "Tina, where's Lockie at today?" After the weekend passed, nobody bothered to ask about Lockie. It's not that they have forgotten who he is, but as far as their two-year-old mind is concerned he is out of sight and out of mind. Last Friday, one of my little girls, Soledad, was physically frightened after a fellow classmate vomited all over the classroom. The sick girl was then ostricized for the remainder of the day.
The flu has literally been destroying my classroom community, and at this age the learning community is far more important then the physical schooling that happens inbetween all the socialization and exploration. Now, there are many benifits to working with upper-middle class, white two-year-olds. One of which is that this distruction of community will soon be mended. This flu epidemic will pass, most likely never to return until next year's flu season. Within a week or so, my kids will be back in full blast. Their age attention span will allow us to pick up almost exactly where we left off. The little girl who was otricised for puking will be welcomed with hugs the morning. Things will fall back into order and community will be restored.
But, let's say this wasn't a well off community of white toddlers. Let's say perhaps they are your typical inner city middle school, jam packed with poverty stricken students and enough minority students to qualify as a UN embassy. Yikes! Just imagine, all the issues and factors that go into building a strong learning community.
In a school population where many students fall at or below the poverty line, health can become a very burdening truth. Children of poor families are more susceptible to catching colds and other illnesses common among school children. But unlike the more well-off families, a flu season impacts poor families in many more uncomfortable ways. Single-parent households or dual income households may not be able to take a day off from work to stay home with a sick child. Perhaps an older sibling is asked to take care of younger brother or sister, taking yet another child out of school. Or perhaps, there are no other options and the child must attend school—even if it means staying in the nurse’s office all day.
Any one of us who has tried to work a full day with even a slightly meddling cold has first hand experience of the miserable feeling that stays with you throughout the day. Now, translate that same miserable feeling to a seven year old trying to get through a day at school. She cannot even fully express what she is feeling or understand why. Does this miserable feeling make a connection in young person’s mind to school itself being miserable?
To make matters far worse, many families in our country do not have proper health care. This is no longer just a problem for the poor inner city schools—families across all but the top economic, cultural and geographical lines are lacking proper health care. Middle class white families in the suburb and poverty stricken, unpapered immigrants in the country or inner city all suffer from lack of health care. This translates to education in a very direct way. When a child is suffering from even a something as simple as a tooth ache, their family cannot afford to take them to a doctor. Keep in mind a doctor’s visit must also include an available family member taking the day off work to accompany the sick child.
It is so intense to think that a teacher trying to build a safe and enjoyable learning enviornment has work around such a huge national health care problem. I have worked with the difficulties of teaching through the flu season, and it is rough-- but temporary. It takes entirely dedicated individuals to be able to battle health issues in the classroom all year round. Ill children are unable to enjoy school in the manner as healthy children. Likewise, children forced to stay out of the classroom due to illness are further alienated from their educational community.
Aww, the joys of figuring out how to create the perfect learning community amist the horrors of reality.
But, this epidemic has also brought a solid halt to our educational routine. Granite, I work with two year olds-- we don't have a staunch educational program and we definately are not preparing for the WASL. Yet, we have our circle time at 9 am every day. We read the book of the week (which is nearly memorized come Friday), go through our flashcards (animals+sounds, foods, simple Spanish), and do a simple group activity that requires a bit of physicial movement. As of late, circle time is a no-go. When you have two kids crying because their guts are rumbling, one with diahrea and another who's temperature just read 103 degrees, circle time seems kind of fluffy. Physical child care, caring for the health of the child, is a much more immediate need.
So the books are pushed aside. By the afternoon art project, we are down to half our class size as parents come for their ill children. How can you justify hanging art on the wall that only represents 1/2 your students? By the end of the day, I don't even have enough students left to be concidered "school"-- it's more like personal tutoring at that point.
Up until tonight, I've just seen this epedemic as annoying in my efforts to conduct a proper classroom atmosphere. After reading Sapon-Shevin's "Building a Safe Community for Learning" I have realized what is really happening in my classroom. My classroom community is being upheaved. I have one little boy who has been out with the flu for an entire week now. The first few days the other kids would ask, "Tina, where's Lockie at today?" After the weekend passed, nobody bothered to ask about Lockie. It's not that they have forgotten who he is, but as far as their two-year-old mind is concerned he is out of sight and out of mind. Last Friday, one of my little girls, Soledad, was physically frightened after a fellow classmate vomited all over the classroom. The sick girl was then ostricized for the remainder of the day.
The flu has literally been destroying my classroom community, and at this age the learning community is far more important then the physical schooling that happens inbetween all the socialization and exploration. Now, there are many benifits to working with upper-middle class, white two-year-olds. One of which is that this distruction of community will soon be mended. This flu epidemic will pass, most likely never to return until next year's flu season. Within a week or so, my kids will be back in full blast. Their age attention span will allow us to pick up almost exactly where we left off. The little girl who was otricised for puking will be welcomed with hugs the morning. Things will fall back into order and community will be restored.
But, let's say this wasn't a well off community of white toddlers. Let's say perhaps they are your typical inner city middle school, jam packed with poverty stricken students and enough minority students to qualify as a UN embassy. Yikes! Just imagine, all the issues and factors that go into building a strong learning community.
In a school population where many students fall at or below the poverty line, health can become a very burdening truth. Children of poor families are more susceptible to catching colds and other illnesses common among school children. But unlike the more well-off families, a flu season impacts poor families in many more uncomfortable ways. Single-parent households or dual income households may not be able to take a day off from work to stay home with a sick child. Perhaps an older sibling is asked to take care of younger brother or sister, taking yet another child out of school. Or perhaps, there are no other options and the child must attend school—even if it means staying in the nurse’s office all day.
Any one of us who has tried to work a full day with even a slightly meddling cold has first hand experience of the miserable feeling that stays with you throughout the day. Now, translate that same miserable feeling to a seven year old trying to get through a day at school. She cannot even fully express what she is feeling or understand why. Does this miserable feeling make a connection in young person’s mind to school itself being miserable?
To make matters far worse, many families in our country do not have proper health care. This is no longer just a problem for the poor inner city schools—families across all but the top economic, cultural and geographical lines are lacking proper health care. Middle class white families in the suburb and poverty stricken, unpapered immigrants in the country or inner city all suffer from lack of health care. This translates to education in a very direct way. When a child is suffering from even a something as simple as a tooth ache, their family cannot afford to take them to a doctor. Keep in mind a doctor’s visit must also include an available family member taking the day off work to accompany the sick child.
It is so intense to think that a teacher trying to build a safe and enjoyable learning enviornment has work around such a huge national health care problem. I have worked with the difficulties of teaching through the flu season, and it is rough-- but temporary. It takes entirely dedicated individuals to be able to battle health issues in the classroom all year round. Ill children are unable to enjoy school in the manner as healthy children. Likewise, children forced to stay out of the classroom due to illness are further alienated from their educational community.
Aww, the joys of figuring out how to create the perfect learning community amist the horrors of reality.
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