Teaching in Trying Times
by Sharon Daly
I showed my students this photo the day after the siege of the Capitol in Washington D.C. on January 6th. It depicts a milkman in London, delivering the milk the morning after German bombs reduced familiar streets to rubble, erasing known landmarks. We talked about how Congress came back in session after an afternoon of traumatic events and did what they had been there to do, certify the electoral votes of the 50 states. It was a day that some legislators, hearkening back to the attack on Pearl Harbor, said will ‘live in infamy.’ This photo seemed to call to me across the decades and I wondered if the students would feel the hope that it was intended to inspire. It doesn’t gloss over the obvious destruction, the utter devastation of the scene. Its focus is on the ordinary milkman, doing his job in the midst of chaos.
What will students make of these times? We continue to live in the midst of an ongoing pandemic and see the rubble left by political ideologies and divisiveness. Both have drastically changed our domestic landscape. Students are feeling the stress. We know that we can’t ignore the backdrop and the realities swirling around us. But how do we keep the banner of hope flying? Their emotional lives from being overwhelmed by it all? A 5th-grade student that I work with recently wrote a letter for an imaginary time capsule project. In it, they were supposed to bury three artifacts that represented the year 2020 along with a letter explaining these items. She wrote:
The third, and final thing I have left you is an old computer mouse, My old computer mouse. It stands for the virtual everything, Virtual school, virtual playdates, virtual weddings, virtual funerals. I could not see any of my friends, due to Corona. I could not go to school, either; so I went to virtual school, and let me tell you, boy does it suck. I hope you have had a better year than me, I hope you were able to see all your friends, I hope you were able to attend funerals and weddings, and I hope you keep this as a reminder of those less lucky than you.
The emotion in the student’s words is palpable. As educators, we know that creating space for students to be vulnerable and share their thoughts and feelings is as integral to our work as the curriculum we cover. In these times, this safe space is essential.
There is a backstory to the image of the milkman carrying on with his mission. The photographer, Fred Morley, wanted to project strength and stoicism to the people of London. So he borrowed the uniform of a milkman, the milk bottles and carrier, and had his assistant walk across the ruins. Real fires were burning in the background and real firemen were trying to put them out. At the time, censors did not want photos published of where bombs had fallen so that the Germans would not see how successful their attacks on the city of London had been. But the newspapers immediately published this one, hoping that despite showing the catastrophic destruction, the image of the milkman carrying out his duty would inspire the British to carry on.
Our students need inspiration too. And I think about what educators have to put on and carry every day to keep delivering hope and connection, nurturing and safety among the broken systems that hamper our efforts, making it difficult to walk the walk. And sometimes we have to be an actor, wearing a uniform of calm that doesn’t always fit well and show up in our classrooms ready to play the part, leaving our wildly fluctuating emotions in the wings. We do it to hold onto good so that our students can find something to smile about. We try to keep imagination and hope alive. We help them envision a brighter future- a path forward. We do math, science, and social studies, write, read, process. We listen. We discuss. We sift through the chaos and try to find our way through.
