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“The pandemic has been like getting on a ship in the middle of a storm where they gave me a different rudder than the one I knew how to maneuver.”
In February 2020, I heard there was a pandemic in China. I did not attach much importance to the news. “It’s far away,” I thought. In early March, I heard that Europe had already become infected with the virus from China. “Surely, it is like the flu,” I said. However, I made provisions thanks to an e-mail that Google sent explaining the use of GSuite tools. I started preparing the teachers in my charge for the worst-case scenarios. They also had not listened to the news from across the world.
In mid-March, I saw a video where a Puebla girl (Mexico) said she had been infected abroad and had only been like the flu, that nothing else happened. Within a few days, my boss called to inform me that face-to-face classes would be suspended, and I had to help academic management move the semester to an online modality.
“I was drenched in the anguish of hearing my colleagues relate economic and family situations that did not allow them to fulfill their teaching work, also the complaints of students who were not satisfied or did not have the resources to continue their studies.”
At that moment, I boarded a ship in the middle of a storm, where I was given the helm that I did not know how to maneuver. I saw myself, like all my fellow teachers and ICT coordinators, being swept away by the inclement waves that hit and tore down the boats with the force of the economic crisis that caused businesses to close, widespread panic shopping, the resistance to precautionary measures such as masks, antibacterial gel, and social distancing. I was drenched in the anguish of my colleagues recounting economic and family situations were preventing them from teaching at the level of demand that my boss wanted me to impose. There were complaints from students who were not satisfied with the methodology used, who did not have the resources to continue their studies.
In the summer, the eye of the hurricane arrived. Finally, I had time to plan an online semester and the strategies and tools to facilitate the teaching and administrative work. I was determined to change the plan previously followed to improve performance and facilitate access to learning. I believed we were ready to embark on the waves breaking in the distance, but I was wrong.
In September, the wall of the hurricane’s eye beat us with such force that it fissured the ship. We lacked resources; the teachers resisted the use of technology; the students rebelled; the widespread anger grew about the situation that had been beating holes in the ship’s armor to the point of sinking them.
I was trapped. Several of my colleagues had jumped overboard, others were hiding in their cabins, and the few that stayed on deck took buckets and bailed water coming from the cracks that looked increasingly bigger. The captain of my ship, seeing the situation, approached me and asked, “What else can you do?” I found his question incredulous. I could have tied the helm to a broom so the ship would not stray from the course and go down to the deck with buckets to help my colleagues. I could have adjusted each one’s lifesavers and collected rags to plug the cracks. I could have given more, but that would have meant giving up my freedom.
I realized that the ship was going to sink, and I was no captain. I could not make decisions nor release the lifeboats. I could only require the crew members to carry out the activities that would, in theory, prevent the ship’s sinking. I know that this feeling overwhelms all the school coordinators at risk of sinking. I know that their power is limited and demands on them go beyond what should be asked in times of pandemic. I know that people feel drowned in work and can do nothing but bear the blows of the storm. Therefore, I decided to abandon the ship. I handed over the helm to the captain and jumped overboard to my own ship: one forged by my studies and experience that let me start working independently.
My yacht is the right size to climb the waves, it has all the attachments I require to work remotely, and it is the kind of boat I can maneuver to my pleasure since I am the captain. I count on networks [1] to provide me with contacts, tools, and ideas to perform my teaching work better. I have been continuously training to improve my work with students and have managed to implement methodologies to communicate better with them, optimizing their performance and the times they spend in virtual classes.
Pomodoro Technique
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45-minute classes
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20 minutes to review theory.
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5-minute break (away from technology).
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20 minutes – Students do training and summary activities to strengthen and evaluate their learning.
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5 minutes for clarifying questions.
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60-minute classes
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20 minutes to review theory.
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5-minute break (away from technology).
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30 minutes – Students do training and summary activities to strengthen and evaluate their learning.
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5 minutes for clarifying questions.
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Multi-hour or adult classes
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50-minute periods of work activity.
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10-minute breaks.
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Direct communication with students
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Seesaw for the little ones. It also serves as a portfolio of evidence.
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Hangouts for young people and adults. Ideal for those with institutional e-mail.
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Google Classroom my preferred virtual classroom. It also serves as a portfolio of evidence.
Evaluation
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Google Forms allows creating diagnostic, formative, and summary examinations that are high quality and precise.
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Google Classroom allows creating ways for students to see their grades in real-time.
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Socrative is an entertaining tool I can use to review the contents with my students and award them extra points.
Now that I am navigating on my own, I dedicate myself exclusively to teaching and have discovered how tiring and overwhelming it is to work 8-12 hours sitting at a desk. Thanks to the tools described above, I have maintained my sanity and can get involved with the students so they can take advantage of the time we spend together for maximum performance. It is not easy; the planning requires much additional time, and the preparation, design, and implementation of the materials and tools are complex and detailed. However, once everything is in order and my students start working and discovering the contents, I know it has been worth the effort.
My biggest recommendation for my teaching colleagues is this: plan your classes with simple things. Consider half the time you have with each class and soak up the strategies other teachers have experienced and approved [2]. Remember that you are not alone and that, in this ocean of uncertainty, there are other ships with captains who know how to sail in dangerous waters, and you can always learn from them. We have not come out of the storm, we do not know how much longer it will last, but we know that “no calm sea made a sailor an expert.”
About the author
Maya NiRo (teacher.niro@gmail.com) has a degree in communication sciences and techniques, teaches Ibero-American letters, teaches education, is an Apple teacher, an ICDL Americas certified digital teacher, author of the e-book The Woman in the Picture. She currently works for the University of the Gulf of Mexico and the University of Latin America.
References
[1] TED, EdTED, GSuite, Khan Academy, Coursera, Observatorio de Innovación Educativa, etc.
[2] Presencia en el Aula Virtual (Presence in the virtual classroom)
Edited by Rubí Román (rubi.roman@tec.mx) – Observatory of Educational Innovation.
Translation by Daniel Wetta.
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This article from Observatory of the Institute for the Future of Education may be shared under the terms of the license CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 
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