What I've Learned While Learning to Teach During a Pandemic

In the summer of 2020, I was asked to teach an undergraduate sociology course at my alma mater; a stand-in for the retiring professor whose courses I had taken and who had literally changed the trajectory of my life. Although it would force me to face my imposter syndrome head-on, nothing was going to stop me from doing it. Not even a pandemic.

Before the semester began, I imagined myself walking into a classroom full of eager, smiling students ready to dive into the intriguing world of sociology and all of the new connections, questions, and observations they would surely have. I imagined myself facing a group of students much like my undergraduate self, the way my own beloved sociology professor had done.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. Instead, in front of me were around 15 mostly freshman students with majors ranging from business to sociology to environmental science; all masked; all terrified. Behind me on the smartboard were eight more students, little black boxes with only white text painted across to differentiate them. All with red muted microphone icons. Not even a profile picture of these students I was supposed to get to know. Whether hidden by their screens or by their masks, these were twenty two students whose smiles I would never see.

I'm proud to say that my first semester was successful enough that I was asked to return in the spring, and again the following fall. I am now teaching my fourth course, and I feel confident in saying that I have managed to make connections with my students despite the unprecedented challenges we all face. "Successful" is relative, though. I have not become a better teacher. I have not become a better social scientist. I like to think that I have become a better mentor, listener, and guide. And that is what my students have needed more than anything.

And so I feel compelled to share some of the things I've learned while learning to teach during a pandemic.

• Everything since March 2020 has been "unprecedented", including undergraduate enrollment declines (down 5.9% since the pandemic began). Going to college right now is scary enough that lots of people aren't doing it. It's important to remember that the ones who are doing it are probably scared, too. I learned to recognize my students as people with full, complex emotional lives on campus and off.

• With the pandemic entering its third year, my freshman students have spent some of the best years of their lives under varying degrees of lockdowns, shutdowns, and mask mandates. Fun was cancelled. Normal was cancelled. Where I experienced my late teens as a time of freedom and growth, my students have experienced them as a time of uncertainty, disappointment, and loneliness. They don't leave those feelings at the classroom door. I learned to recognize my students as people with rituals incomplete, milestone moments missed, dreams unfulfilled...through no fault of their own.

• Depression impacts about one third of higher education students. COVID responses likely increased the impacts of depressive symptoms and left students without the usual sources of support like friends, parties, sports, clubs, and even the comfort of predictable, simple routines like weekly grocery shopping or library trips. I learned to recognize my students as people who may not realize that their experience is abnormal, and that it's ok to not be ok with that.

• When students are satisfied with their academic experience, they are less likely to report depressive symptoms. I consider it an essential job duty to provide a satisfying academic experience to my students. That means responding to their changing needs rather than rigidly adhering to my own plans. A rigorous course need not be inflexible. I learned to recognize my students as people who overwhelmingly do not want to be researchers, writers, or academics, (but they want to be, and will be, incredible nurses) and tailor my courses accordingly.

• Students who struggle with balancing work, life, and classes are more likely to drop out . Balancing and prioritizing commitments is a learned skill, and that means that I can help teach it. I offer flexible due dates whenever possible, based on my students' assessments of their own workloads and available time. I learned to recognize my students as people with multiple demanding and competing roles, who want to succeed in them all.

• Just because the events of last year are no longer present, doesn't mean that they are truly gone. Students had their worlds turned upside down and backwards when they experienced a taste of campus life freedom, only to be forced to move back home when schools and dorms closed. Newly acquired social and time management skills may have gone right out the window. The abrupt swings from dependence to independence were probably jarring, resulting in anxiety or feelings of hopelessness. I learned to recognize my students as people who might be re-learning how to care for themselves and others, how to manage their time, and how to be on their own again in the world.

• The rollout of vaccines and rollback of mask mandates earlier this year gave some the impression that the pandemic was over. Some of us even started talking in terms of "before and after" COVID. Rising cases and the continued need for vigilance have reminded us to be cautious in our optimism. Existing in the liminal space between "back to normal" and "the new normal" has been exhausting for all of us. Our collective mental health has surely suffered. I learned to recognize my students as the individuals who make up that struggling collective, and have implemented regular wellness practices into my classes (which I hope to share in a later post).

I'm finishing up this post an hour after leaving my class and I'm so glad for the timing, because I could not be more confident now in sharing what I have learned. I am no expert instructor, no wise scholar. But my students told me today that they think about my class all the time "in the real world", and talk about it with their friends, and I can't think of a better goal for higher education. Oddly, I have the pandemic to thank for teaching me to teach the way I do.