Thanksgiving was the most important holiday for me early in my teaching career. Four consecutive days away from work meant I could actually turn off my teacher brain for a bit. Single-day holidays like Veterans Day or Columbus Day were just opportunities to try to get caught up on work, or to develop a plan that felt less desperate than whatever it was I was doing at that moment. I spent those days, along with nights and weekends, unable to get away from work, but at the same time unable to do much about it.

The combination of mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion I experienced as a new teacher left me with losing options on days off: Spend my down-time in a low-return investment on work, or make a half-hearted attempt to relax while constantly worrying I wasn’t doing enough to stay afloat.

Thanksgiving brought me a day or two to regroup. Far from family and with no desire to travel, I’d sleep late, play guitar, watch football, cook a luxurious meal, and otherwise do nothing. Importantly, it was a guilt-free nothing. With four days off, I knew I could take a day or two to myself and still survive in the classroom. And with a long holiday just a few weeks away, and the end of the semester a few weeks after that, more relief was on the way.

Twenty years later, Thanksgiving stills serves as an important benchmark for me as a teacher. It’s time to take a deep breath and think about the small tweaks and adjustments that can carry us through to the end of the semester. And it’s still an opportunity to relax. For that I am thankful.

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And we’re back.

Eight months after shutting down for the first time, New York City has once again closed schools due to the pandemic.

A lot has changed in eight months. Last Spring, I was remotely teaching students I already knew well. Those relationships helped us successfully get to the finish line, even as I struggled to figure out what I was doing.

This September I started a new school year teaching live remote classes to students I’d never met. This brought with it an entirely new set of challenges, some I’ve successfully met and others I’m still working on.

While I am anxious about the school closures, I certainly don’t feel as lost as I did eight months ago. I’ve appreciated the opportunity to be in my school building this year, and interacting in person with some colleagues and some students has really helped me get a handle on what I’m doing with my classes. Some things are working, and they’ll continue to work during the shutdown.

But I hope for a quick and safe return to schools. Although I’ve reached the point where I feel like I can teach remotely, I’m still hoping this is just a temporary interruption.

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Parent-Teacher conferences joined the list of education practices remade by the pandemic this week.

Ours went surprisingly well. Parents signed up in advance, and our administration created a schedule for every teacher detailing whom to call and when. The schedule prioritized students who struggled during the first marking period, which meant conversations that really had to happen were more likely to occur.

Knowing whom I’d be meeting with was very helpful. Usually Parent-Teacher conference night is three hours of pure reaction: A parent walks through the door, I quickly try to identify them, place their child, locate their records, search my mind for what I want to tell them, and then move them along within three minutes because I’ve got 25 other parents waiting in line. This year I was able to prepare talking points and review student work ahead of time. It was much less hectic.

In my conversations I was struck by how grateful parents were. Parents are generally appreciative of the work teachers do, but there was something extra this year. Even though we could speak for only a few minutes, most parents made it a point to explicitly thank me both for what I’m doing in the classroom and for taking the time to call them. In fact, many of these conversations felt like thanking me was itself the point.

I made forty phone calls over the two days. It was exhausting, but worth it: A familiar feeling that made this year’s abnormal Parent-Teacher conferences feel very normal.

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