Since we've shifted to remote learning, teachers and schools have been...

Since we've shifted to remote learning, teachers and schools have been on the virtual and physical frontlines. Credit: Getty Images/mixetto

As the important deliberations about school-reopening plans amid a pandemic grow intense, so does the presence of divisive sentiment directed at how reopening happens. In The Atlantic, it’s the reductionist notion that teachers should be “doing their job,” like nurses did. In The Hill, teachers are “hurting the country” by having serious conversations about safety in the building. And in the New York Post, the most ludicrous notion of all: teachers have “contempt for [their] own work.”

This dangerous thinking cannot be further from the truth. Since we’ve shifted to remote learning, teachers and schools have been on the virtual and physical front lines. While teaching and learning have never been limited to seat time, now more than ever educators are exploring innovative ways to engage students while irreplaceable in-person classroom best practices are sidelined. How short our memory that we’ve forgotten drive-by graduations, doorstep diploma drop-offs, online celebrations of all sorts, lunch distributions, private consolations, prom surprises, and other educator-led initiatives to serve kids and their families during this national crisis? And when have teachers not eschewed their own personal and familial responsibilities for the benefit of students and collegial communities? This is not flaunting. This is par for the course and has been going on to some degree for most of my 25 years in public education. Teachers, on the whole, are energized by love for their vocation, not contempt.

The hesitations leading to conversations between decision-makers in communities around the state and the country revolve around one idea first and foremost, and that’s safety. We’re amid a pandemic, and anyone who downplays that does not understand the work of some of the smartest people who have devoted their lives and scholarship to helping us stay informed and safe during the coronavirus. Some places and individual institutions seem more ready than others for reopening in a traditional sense, according to the guidelines released by organizations such as The American Academy of Pediatrics and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. But the truth is the guidelines are intricate and questions need to be unpacked because there is simply too much at stake (hence, the now delayed start for NYC public schools).

Over the past few months, those who did the vital work in environments that involved face-to-face interactions did so largely in a manner aligned with state and federal recommendations. New accommodations and procedures were put in place, and when conditions were problematic, communities reacted and provided support in inspiring ways (PPE donations for nurses, lunches for delivery persons, free rides, etc.). Will these same communities be outraged if conditions are dangerous and resources lacking at our schools and be supportive in the same way? Some of the rhetoric we’re seeing doesn’t suggest that.

Why direct contempt at the educators who have served our communities time and time again in national crises and who will, most assuredly, do so again? I have my hunches and you might have yours, but rather than making inferences that are probably better explored in a different essay, I’ll say this: what’s not at play here is the outrageous notion that teachers do not want to do the important work to which they have committed their lives. We are here. We’ve always been here and will continue to be. We are reading your social media posts and reading your op-eds. We are thinking of the best way to serve you and your children. We are concerned and fearful but preparing. We are shook but not without resolve. And while the world is talking about coming back to school in September, we know we never left March.

Writer and musician Alan Semerdjian teaches English at Herricks High School and lives in New Hyde Park.

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