As an educator, I’m happy that my school district can provide instruction to students during this pandemic. We are using the hybrid model, with one group of students coming in to the physical buildings on Monday and Thursday and the other group on Tuesday and Friday. Students work online when they aren’t at school. A third group is totally online.
School is happening. But it requires a lot of screen time. I think I am suffering from screen fatigue.
I’m a librarian. Students aren’t coming to the library for classes or to browse for books, but they can request books online. Library staff fulfills their orders, and the students receive a notice to pick up the books.
My colleagues in the middle school/high school and I have spent many hours creating a virtual library for students, as well as getting the word out to teachers about how students can borrow books. I created a video explaining the process. This all involves screen time.
I consider this important and necessary work. The pandemic is taking an emotional toll on many of us. Reading can be an escape from the everyday world. Stories can provide solace in difficult times.
And time with a book can be time away from screens.
Unless, of course, you’re reading online, which is an option my library team is promoting. Because, of course, we have no idea if we’ll have to shut down again. Elementary students have library class, but can’t borrow books yet.
There’s no doubt in my mind that the internet and streaming video are getting us through this pandemic. We can carry on with our daily lives because we can connect virtually. But it is exhausting.
I came home one Friday feeling spent. That wouldn’t have surprised me if I had spent the day teaching classes. But I hadn’t. I had a Zoom meeting for an hour and a half. I worked on a promotion we’re doing to have students get public library cards. This would allow them to have access to ebooks, audiobooks and streaming media. Of course, this involves sending emails to teachers with attachments containing instructions, etc.
Screen time.
Ironically, even time away from school involves screen time. Recreational options are limited right now. I take a half-hour walk every day and my husband, Paul, and I enjoy a day trip to a scenic area on the weekends. I’m an avid reader, and I’m trying to read physical books, but sometimes I end up on my iPad. Our main source of entertainment at home is streaming movies or TV shows.
Yep. More screen time.
I worry about my students, too. They have to spend so much time with their Chromebooks. Then, at lunch, they’re seated one to a table, so many of them are hunched over their phones. And I’m sure they are spending a lot of time gaming online as well.
I try to look on the bright side. My colleagues and I, as I said, created a virtual library on our web site. We used Google Slides and Bitmoji versions of ourselves—those funny little creatures you can dress up in different outfits and put into various poses.
We tried to recreate the library experience. The library was thriving before the pandemic. Students came to the library to check out books, study and read in the comfy chairs. They came in for classes on doing research, and programs relating to Banned Books Week and poetry month. They could also work on jigsaw puzzles, or color on their own or on collaborative projects. There was a real community spirit.
Of course, that’s impossible right now. So, on the screen we provide links to the online catalog and the Digital Maine Library and online reading resources. There are virtual book displays so students can get ideas for what they want to read. They can click on our Bitmojis to connect with our email if they want personal advice.
There’s a “maker space” page with links to coloring pages, online jigsaw puzzles, a knitting tutorial and more.
We even have a wellness page that includes links to mindfulness activities, yoga and tapping.
Putting this together took a lot of screen time.
But this is how we live right now. Only about a third of our total school population is in the building at any one time. It is way too quiet. Adults can’t socialize. If someone passes by the library, my colleagues and I sometimes joke, “Look, it’s a person!”
This is how quiet it is. The library is off the food court, and yet we keep the door open. Even through three lunches.
It is so quiet I can hear my fellow librarians typing on their keyboards. Which is most of the time. Because we are living on the screen.
This too will pass, I know. But not for many months. So I do get angry when I see people in public without their masks, when I hear people decry them. There is only one way for us to get out of this, and that is by keeping our distance and covering our faces.
Alas, it also means more screen time.
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