Covid#1

Today, my brain became too addled by Covid19.  Today it became too much.  Yet I think it’s barely started. 

School’s closed.  Or so the Prime Minister said. 

We saw this coming for most of the past fortnight; everyone thought schools would close at the end this week – two weeks before the Easter holiday.  I expect that sort of speculation is exactly what the Government wanted – just enough for schools to get prepared.  And we did what we could.  We readied the children we teach and we readied extensive packs of learning activities for them to do at home.  Naively, we thought Government might also be preparing.

It was announced yesterday: schools will close on Friday.  Except.  Except.  Except.  The children of key workers will still need somewhere to go.  Vulnerable children will still need looking after.  We still need to provide for children with an EHCP.  But who qualifies as a key worker?  Do both parents need to be key workers?  Which children qualify as vulnerable?  Do all children with an EHCP continue to need provision?  And what about school staff?  Are they now key workers?  What happens to their children?  Will they be paid if they stay at home to care for their children? 

All day, the BBC News website has read ‘Answers promised after school shutdown confusion’, yet the answers haven’t come.  You’d think someone in Government might have seen that and thought it doesn’t read well.  All day, confusion, questions and concern have reigned.  All day, Headteachers have fumbled in the dark, jumping to conclusions and adding to the worries of their staff.  (I don’t blame them; they needed leadership too.)  Some parents received text messages or e-mails telling them their children’s schools are closed from Friday.  No ifs, no buts.  Others’ schools told them they would be open on Monday.  Some key workers and parents of vulnerable or SEND children have nowhere to send their children on Monday; others do.  Some school staff have been told to turn up for work as normal on Monday and that they will be working through the Easter holiday; others have been told they might be staying at home until September. 

Never have I felt so undervalued as a teacher.

Weighty pennies have dropped for me personally too.

Usually, I hate it when people say something is surreal, but the experience of many teachers has been surreal in the last week.  Whilst we read about the world around us shutting down and watch it on the news, we drive to work every morning as normal, through regularly busy streets; we cocoon ourselves in our classrooms, oblivious to the outside world; then we drive back home to our regularly comfortable homes.  This won’t last though.

My own class effectively shut itself down on Wednesday – all the children stayed at home – and I miss them already.  We might not see each other again for months. 

I’m going to visit my parents this weekend.  The drive to Cornwall can’t possibly count as essential travel and there might be a slight risk in me seeing them (we’re all in decent health, by the way) but if I don’t see them now, I don’t know when I’ll see them again.  That thought really upsets me.  I wrote it through blurred eyes.  I don’t know when I’ll see my brother again or my beautiful niece and my playful nephew.  I’d always do my part to support people through these trying times and I’ll proudly return to work next week but there’s also a bit of me that envies those who will be at home with their families.  When I come home from Cornwall, go back to work and socially distance myself, I’ll have no-one.

Yet I fear all this has barely started and it’s going to get much, much worse.