The horrible reality of change is that it is as inevitable as a broken heart. Who among us, though, would trade falling in love to avoid a broken heart. Most dive into love because it is the foundation for all else that we do while we kick up dust in the rest of our lives, even though it is diving head first into so many unknowns. 

We do, it seems, have a tendency to shy away from change—whether in our personal or professional lives—out of the terror brought on by not knowing. No one wants to walk into the dark. It is in the dark that we make new discoveries, isn’t it? Think about the time when you were a kid, and you first explored the attic or crawl space in your home. Getting there took much nerve, but once there, time seemed to melt away.

Teachers have one additional problem. We shy away from change, not only out of the terror of the darkness, but out of us not having the time to make the change. Sometimes, however, we have no choice. Our current coronavirus pandemic has created one of those situations. I, for one, try to see this as an opportunity for significant innovation and growth. Yes, I admit it: I am terrified. Still….

Because environment dictates the filter through which we view the world, any change of environment will naturally thrust us into blinding and immediate darkness. Yet, we should not forget the gold we might find once through the initial darkness.

At this moment, most schools are wrestling with a shift from what we once assumed would always be there, our classrooms. It’s all-hands-on-deck time. Everyone from administration to teaching staff is being asked to re-imagine education because what was true yesterday is no longer true today. And in this nightmare-like state comes the opportunity for innovation. I don’t know about you, but innovation is one thing that gets me up in the morning.

When I was in my classroom, I did as teachers do. I taught. I defined teaching by my training, experience, and continued education and learning. And my classroom was the filter by which I viewed and measured my professional world.

That familiar, tried-and-true world came crashing down on us last year when the health departments chased us from our classrooms, from what we knew and could see.

And where did we fall? Into a classroom that exists in the cloud. The fourteen to fifteen-hour days—or more—that we now spend on teaching is unsustainable, as you might have realized by now. Innovation takes up most of that time, finding fresh ways to do the wonderful things we have been doing for years to help our students grow. 

But think of it this way: in the short run, we spend every waking hour on our jobs. Much of what we are learning is not in the content. It is in the technology and the novel ways of looking at learning. Our work will pay off when all of this is over. The innovation will not only lead us to a higher level of teaching but will lead us to a more efficient way of teaching. The long days will ease because the technology will eventually allow it.

Go ahead, walk into that darkness. I am convinced, if you have not experienced it already, that we all will be better teachers because this new environment has challenged us to re-think the way learning occurs. I have been in this business long enough to know that we are up to it. Keep plugging away. Support each other. We will come out of this as heroes, unsung perhaps, but heroes.