Checking-In

Since the beginning of the school year, mornings have begun for students, parents, faculty, and staff with the usual “rise and shine” routines with the addition of the completion of the COVID Screening App in preparation for arrival on campus each day. Maybe a shower, maybe not. If lucky, toast up some 12-grain bread, spoon down some strawberry yogurt, or perhaps throw down something edible and portable in the car or while waiting for the T. But don’t forget to complete that screening app. That 3-minute investment in an early morning temperature check (with a result below 99.5, of course) and 15 checked “No’s” is the price of admission for in-person learning each day. Hit all the right buttons, and the green light for entry appears on the smartphone or tablet screen.

 

As a result of having stood in a parking lot or tent or doorway now to do Screening App Check-In for going on the fourth month now, I close my eyes and see a green square. But if I open and close my eyes immediately again, I see the faces of the students and parents in our school community. These faces exude life and represent real live people (for the most part, anyway, as it is first thing in the morning and not everyone is a “morning person”). In the throes of a pandemic, when we are encouraged to avoid large gatherings, to socially distance, to keep our cohorts small and, of necessity, to meet with others frequently through a Zoom patina, even a brief encounter at morning Check-in uplifts the spirit. Pretty much the entire middle school cohort materializes in the gym parking lot each morning, disembarking quickly or arduously from the family auto depending on how many bags, backpacks, winter jackets, or devices they are toting with them. Maybe I have a deja vu when I recognize a familiar sweatshirt, one that I saw just yesterday; but whatever, it’s comfortable and warm, and everybody smells good in the fresh air and morning sunlight. I offer a “good morning” or “have a great day” to students and even try to be witty to help wake them up, but that generally falls flat and is immediately tossed into the recesses of the “dad joke” bin.

 

I greet and briefly chat with parent/guardian/sibling chauffeurs. They show me their screening app results. I love the ones with giant letters, but I begrudge no one for how they present it because each green quadrilateral means that their child or children are healthy and attending school. A thumbs up to them, and they can roll up the window to keep out the rain or cold air and go on their way. I’ll see you again tomorrow or next week--a wonderful prospect.

 

I see a few of the family dogs who are happy to be along for the ride; they wag their tails and say hello with a head out the window. No one ever brings along a cat. I am okay with that.

 

When I see the Middle School cars arrive and form their daily parking lot parade, my blood starts flowing. And while my feet may get cold, or my hands start to freeze, my heart gets warmed each and every time I see the Middle School cars arrive and form their daily parking lot parade.