A Credo for the Classroom

Last week, Lucy McBride and I got an email from camp director Steve Baskin of Camp Champions in Texas. He and I met last summer when we were all studying how to operate schools safely and I was launching the COVID-19 school dashboard. Meanwhile Lucy was witnessing the emotional toll of pandemic restrictions on her teen patients and consulting with a handful of DC area schools on safe reopening.

Last summer Steve was trying hard to keep his campers, counselors, and staff safe — and he succeeded. His camp had zero cases of COVID-19. He had expected the summer of 2021 to be easier. Epidemiologically, it was. Emotionally, it was not.

With the fall approaching, students, teachers and parents turn their minds toward a return to in-person schools. The disruption to these groups has been tremendous over the past year and a half.

In the current moment, there is tremendous focus on the challenge of simply returning to school, the logistics surrounding the delta variant, debates over masking and vaccines. In a sense, we may expect the school parts of school to be easy. But they may be a lot more challenging than many people expect.

Steve’s note — plus Lucy’s observations of naturally stressed-out adolescent and adult patients — provide some insights. The news is a bit concerning — but Steve also offers some encouraging thoughts. For all of these reasons, we thought his words were important to share widely.

— —

Dear Emily and Lucy,

This summer we are dealing with an odd confluence of post-pandemic emotional challenges. We are seeing these challenges appear acutely in all our populations: campers, counselors and parents.

Campers are emotionally ill-prepared for camp. I like to compare them to concert pianists who have been denied the chance to practice or even attend a concert for 18 months. They are elated to return to the concert hall (the happy moments are happier than normal), but their skills have atrophied. For 18 months, they have not practiced their interpersonal skills. They have not built their resilience. They have also been cloistered in very small communities with awkward (or non-existent) schooling and stressed adults. They are simply less prepared for the social aspects of camp. The shy children are shyer, the anxious kids more anxious, the angry ones are angrier. Children that tend to miss social cues are missing more of them. In short, they are more prone to lash out or shut down.

The counselors are in a similar if not more acute situation. At the very time in their life that they strive to individuate, their college experience became one of Zoom meetings and limited (or subversive) social interactions. I am communicating with camp directors all over the nation and we are all seeing counselors in a concerning state. Some just cite “mental health” and quit. This is not limited to new staff, but often includes some stalwarts who have attended a camp for a decade. Directors are all seeing more mental health struggles in one summer than we would expect in 5–10 summers. The counselors that remain have been attentive and loving to the campers (who desperately need it), but even they have required more energy and TLC than usual.

The parents are also really on edge. I suspect that many were hoping that 2–3 weeks of camp would solve all the ills of 18 months staring at screens and isolation. Also, the parents have themselves been under pressure — sick/dying loved ones, worry, financial issues, marital struggles, guilt seeing their kids idle or with excess screen time, etc. I feel almost certain that the level of vitriol we saw in the Presidential election and the protests (while all inspired by terrible things) was amplified by ambient frustrations.

Now, any camp-related issue can elicit an angry parental email. For example, a parent of a picky eater wrote an angry email claiming we only served a chicken option once a week. We actually had a chicken option on the menu daily, but that did not seem to really matter. Her daughter had struggled a bit at camp (normative homesickness enhanced with COVID anxiety) and the mother was just mad to a degree that was unreasonable. We understood her frustration but were quite shocked at the intensity of the reaction. I could cite dozens of similar examples, but the anger is consistently disproportional to the precipitating causes. We know the parents are struggling too, but it does not make the emails or calls much easier.

I do not work directly with schoolteachers, but I can imagine what their past year+ has been like. They have seen children they love struggle with new learning methods. Some of their students checked out altogether. All the teachers had to work harder for lesser results. Some feared for their health and safety. Large swaths of the public (usually unadulterated fans of teachers) suddenly became highly critical of them, which I assume was emotionally draining. Finally, this year they will certainly be teaching some 4th grade content to their 5th grade students — thus adding to their workload.

In short, I see a perfect storm coming this fall. As a nation, we are focused on non-pharmaceutical interventions and safe classrooms (as we should be), but the conversation seems oblivious to the levels of anger and frustration we will face. We are essentially a nation of people with very thin brake pads who are all speeding into our schools.

Parents will be less tolerant of social cruelty or impatient teachers. And we will have more social cruelty (or at least perceived social cruelty) and more impatient teachers.

Students will struggle socially and emotionally. Teachers will not be as patient or feel as successful. I doubt we are ready for this challenge.

Schools have been a central part of our national project. Imperfect though they may be, they bring together committed adults and curious children. At their best, they provide inspiration and hope. Most people I know can share at least one story of a teacher who impacted their lives through the gifts of love and knowledge.

Knowing that this will be a tough year for all of us, but especially our teachers, I want to challenge each of us to strive for grace and forgiveness when we interact with our teachers and administrators.

For our fellow teachers, we need to be prepared for students that have never needed us more, but who will be much more challenging to manage and teach.

I hope teachers will remember that parents are scared and frustrated as well. They are worried about their children. When seen through this lens, their occasional anger is easier to understand and forgive.

If each of us approach the classroom as precious and its participants as well-intended people trying to do their best, we will serve our children and each other much better than if we allow our frustrations to drive our emotions.

In first grade, I remember my teacher apologizing after she lost her temper. This admission struck me, I was amazed that adults can make mistakes and admit them. I admired her the rest of the year. I hope we can all accept the challenge to be our best selves for our fellow citizens and for our students.

Steve