Yesterday, when I finished my school “office hours,” and after I had filmed my daily video update and sent it to my students, and after I had texted my students with every method I had at my disposal (Remind messages, AVISO messages, Canvas messages), my chest ached and my head throbbed so that I had to get outside and walk. My legs cramped mercilessly after being crouched on my bed for hours, grading essay after essay, typing paragraphs of feedback, and listing all the suggestions I could give them at our next Zoom meeting.  

Yet the pain that drove me outside, that drove me to find some kind of escape in exercise and music, wasn’t the actual work itself, but a pain emanating from inside. A feeling that squeezed my lungs so that I was short of breath, and a breathlessness not tied to the Corona Virus. No, this pain is tied to the helplessness and the frustration I feel by being unable to reach my unreachable students. Those who have gone dark since we have shut down schools. 

Why don’t they reply? Why aren’t they doing the work? Where are they? What if they don’t turn in anything? What is going on in their lives right now? What if they don’t have food? What if they can’t get online? Why have they ghosted me? 

WAIT BEFORE YOU DRAW CONCLUSIONS HERE 

Now, before anyone starts ranting that a student shouldn’t be allowed to fail because of the hurdles accompanying e-learning during a global pandemic, and that I shouldn’t be so insistent on their turning in work when their families might be struggling for money to eat or to pay the rent, know that I agree totally. I know that the technicalities of my class are just that, technicalities, and some of my students have significantly bigger problems to manage right now than how to document a secondary source correctly.  

But if a student turns in work regularly, then I at least know they hear me, are still connected to me, and are somewhat safe. 

But also understand that my high school seniors are dual enrollment students, which means their senior English class is actually a college freshman composition class, and by taking this class, they receive credit for English IV for high school graduation as well as credit for freshman college English. This privilege comes with a catch, however, and that catch is that as high school seniors, they have to play by college rules. The reasoning is simple; if they are earning real college credit, then they must meet real college standards.  

While other public school students may have a reprieve temporarily, a breather so students can get adjusted, and whose teachers can modify the types of assignments they give, my students don’t have that luxury.  

And colleges, while having moved their classes online, are still requiring students to meet certain standards, complete certain assignments in order to receive credit. I have some flexibility to modify those assignments and responses somewhat, but the need to complete certain tasks to earn credit doesn’t waiver, even with students at home. My older son, who is a junior in college, has found the number of his assignments increasing since they made the transition to e-learning, not decreasing. The professors may be more lenient in the way they grade those assignments, but the fact that students still have to turn in those assignments doesn’t change.  

But more importantly, if they aren’t turning in assignments, there must be a reason why. There must be something keeping them from doing the work, and the possibilities of what might be keeping them from doing the assignments (assignments they would have done without question if we were in class) haunt me.  

So where does that leave me? It leaves me chasing students every day, begging for them to respond to my constant messages, and urging them to turn in something. Anything. A partial assignment. A modified assignment. An assignment on a different text. 

Because if they are turning in assignments, then I know they are safe at some level – maybe not happy, maybe not peaceful – but at least with enough peace of mind and enough time to themselves to work a little on English class.  

Because if they will honestly attempt what I have asked them to do, then I can take over with my discretion as an instructor. If they will just do something similar to what I have asked them to do, then I can work some magic. An honest attempt to do what I have asked them to do will yield positive results. I make this promise to them. Yet, some still refuse to reply.  

This is what I want to say to those who are ghosting me: “Trust me as the same teacher you knew in class. Just try to do what I have asked you to do, and I will take it from there. Stay in contact with me; let me know what is going on with you. We can work through this grade situation if you will just try and keep talking to me.” 

THE BIG REVELATION 

As I was walking through my neighborhood, tossing the situation over and over in my head, I began talking to myself, making comments such as, “I am working way harder chasing after these kids than they are actually doing the work. Pursuing them at every angle I know to use. Don’t they understand that I will help them out if they will just try to do what I asked them to do?” 

Then another voice interrupted my one-person conversation. The voice that flings my head back the very second I hear it because I know that it is the voice of truth and revelation.  

“Now you know how I feel,” said the voice.  

Yep, I see, Lord. 

At least a little. I wouldn’t ever claim to have divine answers, but I get it now, how frustrated God must feel when He asks me to trust Him with the assignment He has given me. He has promised not to abandon me, and He has promised to work the miracles if I will just trust Him and try to do the assignment. 

  I imagine I have ignored or misinterpreted signs He has sent me all over the place. I know that the assignments are written in a fairly straight forward manner through the red-letter words of Jesus in my text book, but how often do I rely on others to tell me what the assignment is rather than going straight to the book? How often does He long for me just to reply to let Him know what’s going on in my head  – not that He doesn’t know already – but if I will talk to Him about it, then maybe He can make the assignment directions a little clearer? Give me the right pencil to use? 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I might be learning a bigger lesson than anything found in my literary lessons on Canvas and D2L. 

LESSONS LEARNED, AND THEY SURE RUN DEEP 

For example, what do I want when I pursue my students so vehemently online? I want a response; I want them to communicate with me. First, so I know that they are safe and healthy, but second, if they will stay in touch with me, I can help them navigate the assignments so they can get the work done, and we won’t have to worry about their grades. I can make sure they understand what has to be done and how to do it.  I want to make sure that they have received important announcements from the College Board or from our principal or from our guidance counselors.  

What does God want when He pursues us so vehemently? He wants us to respond, to talk to him, to build a relationship with Him so that He can make sure we are safe and healthy, spiritually and mentally. Then, he can make sure I understand what He is asking me to do in my daily life. He can help me navigate the difficult tasks set before me every day. He can make sure I understand how to handle the challenges I am sure to face when I begin those assignments. He can make sure I have the knowledge I need to live an abundant life. 

Which students worry me the most? The ones who would have never allowed themselves to miss an assignment if we were in the classroom but are now letting day after day pass with no interaction on our learning platform. What do I think makes the difference? Well, that is what keeps me up at night, worried that something terrible has happened that has taken them away from school life altogether, but outside of that, the difference is how they respond when I see them daily. When they come to my class regularly, and I look them in eye, and we have one-on-one conversations, skipping assignments isn’t that easy. When I see them every day, I can tell if they are feeling down or if they are feeling stressed, if they need to talk. If they get behind in class, I can rearrange my plans for the day to help them catch up, catch their breaths, and catch a break. 

This comes only with building an in-person relationship, though. A regular meeting place where we can grow to know each other and tackle the tasks together.  

The same can be said for a regular prayer life. If I have a daily, face-to-face time with my Holy Father, then I am certainly less likely to skip out on the job He has laid out for me.  He will feed me with the instruction and steps I need and reassure me in the process.  When I bring him my anxieties and fears and lay them on Him, then He has the power to rearrange my plans and give me a minute to catch my breath and then set me back where I need to be.  

Then, what about those times when my students complete the assignment I have asked them to do, but in doing so, they have made the exact same mistake I have marked on their papers all year long? I felt like banging my head against the laptop today when I read essays where students were still using stand-alone quotations. I teach multiple lessons and give them designated practice on how to use the “quoting sandwich” in their essays. I give them permanent models to use when writing their essays so they can go back and look at it when they write their assignment. I remind them every time I assign a new task; I mark it every time I see it in their papers; I go over it again when we review the assignment after I score it. Yet, they continue to throw a random quote in the middle of a paragraph without embedding it in their own sentence, without introducing it, and without explaining how it serves as valid evidence. 

Just like me in my life when I insist on acting out of jealousy or worrying about how I am going to handle a perplexing situation. Hasn’t the Lord taught me over and over again how useless and how wrong envy and worry are? Hasn’t he provided me with real-life lessons that should have taught me never to do it again? Hasn’t he given me models in the Bible to refer to when I encounter those situations? And just like my students, I fall back into those bad habits in the middle of my frenzied attempt to manage life.  

Do you think the Lord has a super, high-powered laptop on which He desires to bang His head when I turn in my assignments with those same mistakes present every time?  

I imagine He probably asks Himself, “Why won’t she listen to me and do it right?” just like I do when I read those random, floater quotations in the middle of a really solid argument. 

Or what about when I see my students trying to do what I have asked them to do, honestly trying to follow my model, and they flub it because they just don’t quite get it, yet, or because they just don’t have enough practice? What do I do then? Why, I praise them for the effort, give them credit for trying, and guide them how to do it a little better next time, a way to strengthen it when they try it again.  

I imagine God often looks at me that way, maybe a little like that emoji with His hand on His forehead, but alongside the thumbs-up emoji. Good try, I see you making the effort, listening to what I have instructed. And I will strengthen you as you go so that next time, your response will be just a little more compassionate, a little more helpful, and a little wiser. Or more often, I imagine Him saying, “Good try; let me take it from here.”  

So while I will continue to agonize over my students’ safety and their ability to complete their work online, I will do so with a greater appreciation for all I have made my Lord endure in my sloppy copy, rough draft of this book I am writing called my life.  

And I am beyond grateful for every time He hands a chapter back to me, marked up in red, but then allows me the chance to revise.