"Glorious Awkwardness"
I am a naturally awkward person. So, it’s easy for me to think of cringe-worthy moments. Unfortunately, as a teacher, these moments happen all the time.
Reflect on a particular moment in your past when you felt most in touch with your “Glorious Awkwardness.” It could be a cringe-worthy moment you’ve replayed a thousand times in your mind. Or something essential about who you are, something unchangeable. Go back there. - Jon Batiste
I am a naturally awkward person. I blush often; I say things I later regret; I’m easily embarrassed. So, it’s easy for me to think of cringe-worthy moments. Unfortunately, as a teacher, these moments happen all the time.
When school shut down for quarantine in 2020, I was posting online material every day. I scheduled remote office hours and live zoom lessons, only to stare at my own reflection in my computer screen. I even posted videos of science experiments on my sciencewithmselson Instagram account. But despite my greatest efforts, my ability to foster my students’ learning and growth was waning. The school eventually asked all teachers to check in with students they hadn’t heard from. I had many students go MIA, and at the top of that long list was dear Alonso.
Alonso was the human embodiment of a basset hound, with brown eyes that drooped down with his big lashes and a gentle disposition. Alonso responded to questions with a three second delay, or sometimes with no response at all. He also had a sense of humor that was hard to understand or reciprocate. He delivered jokes with a dead-pan face, stood with his feet together, his shoulders slack and his hands dangling by his side. By the time it dawned on my first-year-teacher self that Alonso may also have had a learning disability, it was too late. I hadn’t heard from him since school had closed.
After multiple attempts, I finally managed to get through to Alonso’s parents. They did not speak English, so with my iPhone wedged between my ear and my shoulder, I prepared my dialogue by inputting a script into SpanishDict.com. It went something like this: “Hi! This is Ms. Elson, Alonso’s science teacher. I am checking in to see how he is doing. Also, he hasn’t completed any work since school closed.” Due to my limited Spanish-speaking capabilities, the conversation was short-lived. It turns out that in order to have a conversation in another language you have to plan for more than just your opening line, God forbid the person on the other end actually responds to you. Eventually, the parents gave up on me and handed the phone over to Alonso himself.
“Hi, Alonso! How are you?”
One, two, three.
“Hi Ms. Elson”
“How are you? It’s good to hear your voice!”
One, two, three.
“Good.”
The conversation continued at this pace. Me, inquiring about his missing homework and lack of communication, and him, responding slowly, apathetically. Finally, I got him to promise to commit to completing two missing assignments, or, at the very least, log into the education portal. As I was wrapping up our conversation, emails and messages were popping up on my computer. I was momentarily distracted from the task at hand. A momentary distraction was all I needed to absentmindedly blurt out —
“Ok! Bye, love you!”
The words quite literally echoed in my head for several seconds. Love you? LOVE you? I heard myself saying it again and again as I sat, frozen in my seat. And before I could even think of something to say in an attempt to cover up my blunder, Alonso responded —
“Okay.”