Hell No To The Hybrid Model by Christine Vaccaro

Image by Christine Vaccaro

Image by Christine Vaccaro

Like most teachers, I would love a first day of school that involves meeting new students at my classroom door, wearing a tone-setting outfit and a broad, maskless smile. But while I like to dream, I also respect facts.  And at this time, there are none to suggest we should be anywhere near a classroom come September. 

Without major medical innovation, this capricious virus will remain the new normal. While we all know real teaching happens in our rooms, planning to gather in them this fall would be a reckless danger to us, our students, our families and our communities. The forward-thinking move is: stop fantasizing about being part-time in a classroom, and use this summer instead to develop as robust a remote learning system as time and resources allow. 

A hybrid model combining remote and classroom learning does not need to be off the table forever. But right now, it is not safe, practical or equitable. States, districts and schools must pivot from the whimsical acrobatics they are undertaking to hybridize the system, and focus on developing sustainable and generative online teaching practices -- ones that could ultimately be rolled into a better-strategized fusion model later in the year. 

The quixotic logic of a classroom return is obvious to us teachers. It is almost inconceivable to imagine the necessary precautions being implemented broadly, fairly and successfully amongst schools and zip codes. High risk factors for Covid are embedded lifestyles for many: immuno-deficiencies, obesity, asthma, diabetes, pregnancy, high blood pressure -- if you mentally scan your faculty for these issues, you would likely be left with a skeleton crew. It is not safe for them to be there, nor fair for those who are healthy to be reporting to duty, either. And of course, opened classrooms not only endanger students, but make them a tiny army of potential virus spreaders. 

On a practical level, in addition to the threat of this -- or a new -- virus, we are just one climate change cataclysm away from once again imperiling a functioning school system. It is inevitable schools will need to shut down in the near future, and yet, the only thing we are preparing for is to be caught flat-footed once again. Somehow, during this golden age of technology, in the nation boasting the planet’s wealthiest economy, online teaching was launched from individual kitchen tables in the midst of a global pandemic. Remote learning was trial by fire, and while we got through it, it was developed in survival mode. A hybrid model debuting now would be a mash-up of scattershot remote learning practices and implausible classroom permutations.  Why on earth would we spend the time and resources this summer creating a rickety infrastructure that will be rendered irrelevant with one unfurling of a second Covid wave -- or a resurgence of the first? 

The oft-bandied about “split-schedule” is the only mathematically feasible way a school population can maintain social distancing -- and is a carnival of inequities and potential contractual violations.  Picture having kids attend two or three different schools, at two or three different times of the day. This does not approach a logistical reality for anyone, let alone lower-income families, or ones where one or both parents work on shift. As for teachers: say I teach one subject, high school English. In New York City, my classes average out at about 30-32 kids a piece. To maintain social distancing, I would need three sections of each class, while simultaneously running an online classroom -- which, as we just learned, is well beyond the purview of a full-time job.  Fifteen live classes, and five remote -- and that is if I’m lucky enough to have the same subject. How many teachers teach in two or three? 

We just finished crisis teaching. Now districts are crisis planning. The summer needs to be leveraged as a time for proactive, not reactive, solutions.  Making this call now will enable schools to marshal their forces into preparation, and mitigate a tremendous amount of anxiety for the students, parents, and teachers facing nothing but uncertainty. 

What We Need To Do Instead

Like it or not, online learning is now a fully indoctrinated facet of education, and we must focus on enhancing its integrity and efficacy. The time, energy and money that will no doubt be squandered this summer to develop hybrid models should instead be put into one place: solidifying the actual virtual element that undergirds the whole enterprise. 

On the district level, the first and foremost mandate is obvious: ensure EVERY student has tech and access to the internet. Second, Special Education and English Language Learners must be prioritized in having their needs and accommodations adapted and met remotely. Third, finding, developing and implementing suitable -- and meaningful -- professional development for teachers who span a spectrum of comfort and skill in online teaching resources, and technology in general.  

Remote learning revealed many macro areas for growth, but a school community is a unique ecosystem requiring micro solutions.  Every school I know of in the New York metropolitan area addressed this challenge differently, based on demographics, resources and administrations.  Now school leadership must do what they implore us teachers to do: collect and assess the data, then allow it to inform instructional practices. 

To that end, there are precisely two factions of experts that exist in the fledgling field of remote learning: teachers and students. This summer, every school should be convening an inquiry task force, dominantly composed of these two groups to explore and codify best online practices. Every school is different, but here are some general issues:

1. Overall structure: What made live meetings effective for our community? What was a good ratio for synchronous and asynchronous learning? Many schools used Google Classroom, but the implementation varied widely amongst teachers within a school, causing student confusion. What is the best way to organize a Google Classroom to streamline the student experience? How will we as a school work towards meeting the needs of SPEDs, ELLs, as well as generally addressing learning gaps?

2. Engagement: One of the frequently mentioned frustrations amongst my high school teaching peers were the ghosted gridboxes of Google Meets. Informally polling my students, I found many of them were uncomfortable showing their homes or bedrooms. Could a simple improvement be as easy as getting students the tech to use digital backgrounds? What standards do we want to set, as a school, for attendance in live meetings? Should we use a standardized rubric for attendance and participation? How can we, as a school community, incentivize student participation on live classes? 

3. Social Emotional Needs: Connecting with students remotely was often profoundly challenging -- and that was with the benefit of pre-existing relationships and six months of trust-building. Next year, in most cases, the students we encounter on our screens will be strangers.  What can be done to develop rapport and relationships, virtually? How will we as a school community remotely address social-emotional and mental health needs, made more dire by traumas incurred these past few months?

4. Tech Proficiency: For such a tech-savvy generation, many of our students lack basic online skills such as keyboarding, doing a boolean Google search or just writing an email. What can be done, remotely, to support specific deficits in foundational tech skills? Do we even feel all of our students are fully fluent in the use of Google Classroom? What expectations are we giving students about proper online behavior, or the reposting of material or images?

5. Grades: Grading policies were yet another bedrock crumbled by remote teaching, necessitated by the emergency from which it was born.  Here in New York City, in the eye of the storm, grading standards laxed considerably out of respect to what students and their families were enduring. Now, attention needs to be given to developing thoughtful protocols and expectations aligned with a school’s mission. What can be done to adapt our schools grading policies and expectations in an online world? What was our school’s experience with non-original work? What strategies could we put into place to ensure academic honesty?

6. Student Organization: The destabilizing shift to online learning forced many older students into instantaneous adaptation of self-organizing strategies. Those equipped with more developed executive functioning skills and/or external supports at home fared far better than those lacking one or both. How can our school community support the independent learning and self-agency of all students? 

It has been often noted that the Chinese character for crisis consists of two parts: danger and opportunity. We are no doubt surrounded by crises without bounds: societally, institutionally and individually. But our urgency to return to “normal” in the face of the most abnormal circumstances of our lifetime speaks to a collective discomfort with death, our idolatry of capitalism and an abject denial of the realities we face. As we stand in the crossroads of this crisis, danger lies in continuing to myopically address each barking symptom, rather than the holistic problem. A rushed hybrid model is a band aid solution. Educators know remote teaching is not even remotely teaching.  But seizing this moment as an opportunity to thoughtfully map out our community’s online learning approach will enable us to better supplement -- NOT replace -- what we do in the classroom.  It will not only improve our ability to successfully navigate this critical time, but will fortify us to face whatever else may be coming down the road. 



Michael Flanagan