Grab an Oar and Pull Like Hell: Thoughts on a Return to Teaching Advocacy

I love to teach. Stepping in front of a room of eager students and wholeheartedly pretending to be an expert is frightening, thrilling, exhilarating, and a whole lot of fun. Frankly, it still scares me a bit, but that’s part of what makes the process so thrilling. This week, as classes began at my law school, those butterflies reliably returned, and I wondered again if I could make it through an entire semester without all of my students realizing that I’m just as fallible as they are.

But there are new stressors this semester that we all face, from both sides of the podium. I’ll be speaking through a mask, to other students in a mask, and to still other students watching from their computers at home. I’m trying to generate the same buzz in classroom discussions that I always (think I) have, but with significant limitations. And perhaps the biggest limitation is the weight that seems to hang on my every decision.

Exhaustion with the seeming life-or-death consequences of everyday chioces has weighed on me and my young family all summer long. Should we try to go to that playground for an hour, or is it a threat to our health? Can we get by without stopping by the grocery store for a gallon of milk, and possible exposure to a deadly disease? And now choices between live classes and online learning, between group work and individual writing tasks, can seem just as fraught. Yet somehow as an educator I have to overcome that exhaustion and bring my usual energy to the classroom, even if it is a socially-distanced and partially-online one.

I want this to be great. I think it can be great. But we—myself, my students, my administrators, my university, my community—can only achieve those great things in a the COVID-19 world by pulling together. We cannot delude ourselves into thinking that returning to the classroom will be smooth, or that our well-laid plans will cover every contingency bound to arise. But we can have faith in our honest efforts to do our best. We can adjust when needed. And we can accept that some circumstances will be out of our control.

I don’t know what that will mean in the long run. Perhaps our return to the classroom will be short-lived. But dammit if I’m not going to do everything in my power to make it worthwhile for as long as it lasts. I cannot completely control the path of COVID-19 in my community, or even my law school. But I can do what’s right by the students in my classes. I can promise them that they will get my very best every day, in return for their best efforts to master difficult material under extremely trying conditions.

There’s beauty in that joint effort. There could even be a special sense of accomplishment that comes from energizes a student community and learning new things no matter how difficult the circumstances.

If ever there was a teachable moment about grit and determination, this is it. And that is where I’ve been able to find the energy for my first few classes. We may be in a storm, but I’m going to grab my oar and pull like hell for as long as that storm lasts. Maybe it won’t be enough to overcome the odds stacked against a successful semester, but I can take satisfaction in knowing that I gave it my all. I hope that my students and colleagues can come away from this experience with that same self-assured confidence. We can all be better for the effort.