I am a teacher. To be more specific, I’m actually a college professor. One of the things I love most about my job is the interaction with students. It is, in many ways, the true fountain of youth.
Young people have energy and life and good ideas. They bring so much to the table; some of it is good healthy fare, and some of it is junk food, but they are contributing to the potluck.
Here we are in May 2020. In December of 2019, I had never even heard of Covid-19, and now it has significantly changed my life. I am no longer in a classroom interacting with young minds. I am sitting behind a computer in my home office, which also happens to be my bedroom. From a socially approved distance I am attempting to educate.
I do not like it.
What don’t I like about it? Almost everything, but primarily I dislike the lack of contact with my students. There is value in face to face learning that cannot be replaced by technology, but that is another blog.
I love my students – in many ways I don’t even view them as students. Our relationship isn’t built in that way. I have always viewed myself more as a guide, steering them down an unknown path, encouraging them to do something they may not have done before, using what I know to help them overcome what they don’t know.
Here is a truth I don’t like. I’ve lost some of them. In this digital method of learning, some have gone AWOL, MIA. They are ghosting me. This gnaws at my heart in a way I was completely unprepared for. There are still many fantastic students. Responsible in the classroom, they are responsible on line. They get the work done, they interact to the best of their abilities with me via technology – it’s not ideal but we are communicating.
It’s the others. Their loss is haunting me. Are they ok? Is it a technical issue or are they spiraling emotionally?
So I keep reaching out – I send emails, I send texts. I grovel, I beg for contact, I ask them to come back.
Jesus tells a story that is similar to this, one that I’ve always slightly skimmed over because it was nice but didn’t really resonate.
Then Jesus told them this parable: 4 “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? 5 And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders 6 and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ 7 I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent. Luke 15:3-7 NIV
Yep, lost sheep – the shepherd goes after them. But what about the other 99 alone in the open country?
Suppose one of you has a hundred students and one ghosts you…
There are 99 perfectly responsible students. They are okay on the hillside for a short time. They will continue to eat the grass, and drink the water, and stay in contact with each other.
So I go after the one student and I hound them until they respond. And I invite them to come back into the fold. And I Zoom every last one of my colleagues rejoicing! “Hey – we got him back!”
I will keep trying. I do not want to lose even one.