A Teacher's Message To The Class of 2020 by Dr. Michael Flanagan

YouTube link of my remote learning lesson for the Class of 2020

In walked my twelfth graders. 

They came in, sat down and began to prepare for class. They took out their notebooks and looked up expecting to learn about economics and current events. 

In the middle of a pandemic.

The virus was taking lives—more and more—and it was my job, as their economics teacher, to discuss the devastating effects it was going to have on the economy. To potentially upend lives and livelihoods for years to come.

The bell had just rung to begin my sixth period class, on what would ultimately be the last day I would ever see my seniors in an actual classroom. It was a Friday, and it would not be until Sunday afternoon that Mayor Bill de Blasio and Schools Chancellor Richard Carranza would make the unprecedented decision to close the schools due to the Covid-19 pandemic. 

The efforts to pressure them, and Governor Cuomo, to make the call to close the schools is a story in and of itself. Besides being an economics teacher, I am also my school’s union representative, as well as a parent of a public school student. Many teachers were voicing concerns of the danger of being in an overcrowded school during a pandemic. They were asking me what advice the union had in this situation. At that time, there was very little direction coming from the UFT, outside of members of the union’s MORE Caucus organizing a conference call to discuss a teacher sickout, to force the schools to close in an effort to save the lives of students and staff. 

Ultimately, my advice that weekend was that each of my colleagues would have to make their own decisions, based on what was best for them and their families, and not rely on the DOE or the UFT. I did state in no uncertain terms that my child would not set foot in a NYC Public School building again until at least September. I also did my best to convince parents in my community to do the same thing, hoping they would decide for themselves that sending their children to school was far too dangerous. 

But, on that last Friday, I had an economics lesson to teach. To students that I might not see again—perhaps ever— depending on what happened over the weekend.  So when it was time to start my class, I made a decision. To hell with my economics lesson. I went to my locker, took out my guitar, and played and sang songs for them. I then let several students sing and play for the class as well. 

It had hit me that if and when the schools did close all students would suffer, but these seniors would be losing; their last year of sports, their talent show, their senior trip, the prom, their graduation ceremony, and all of the other rewards of being a senior. The most important year of their high school experience was being stolen from them by this virus. Not to mention the uncertainty of beginning their first year of college.

So, if this was going to be our our final day together, I wanted their last memory of my class to be one of music, of friendship, and of hope. I wanted them to remember my appreciation of them, not only as students, but of the incredible young men and women they had become during their years at our school.

Since Mayor de Blasio reluctantly closed the schools on March 16th—thanks to parent and teacher activism—educators have transitioned into “Remote Learning” providers. Yet, as I sit at my computer this morning, waiting for my video lesson to upload, I miss my students. I miss being a teacher in a real classroom.

The abrupt end of this school year has been overwhelming for all students, but what these 12th graders have endured is profound. Far too many are quietly internalizing the anxiety and depression over the loss of their final year of high school. With the incalculable pain and suffering this virus has caused for millions of people, missing out on senior year may seem minor. But to these students, the pain, anger and frustration are very real.

The last thing I did with my students was play guitar. I left them knowing I was not just their teacher, but someone who cared about them as people. That memory has helped me continue through this lockdown. Through the loss of friends and family. It has given me strength, and I want to use that to encourage them to get through this as well. So, here is a teacher’s message to the class of 2020:

Dear Seniors,

I know you are struggling, more than most. While so many lives have been lost, and the world—the whole world—has been put on hold, your senior year has been taken. In the grand scheme of things, some might say this is minor. But it is anything but that. To you, you are missing out on the culmination of twelve years of hard work, hard play, friendships formed and lost, and memories created. You are not selfish for wanting attention right now. You deserve it. You deserve to feel special. Because you are. 

The loss of these rights of passage cannot be replaced, but that doesn’t mean that we—as teachers, as parents and caregivers, and the school systems across the country should not try. We are working to give you something to hold onto as you venture into the next phase of your lives—memories that will transcend the Coronavirus and this lockdown. We don’t know precisely what this will look like yet, but we want to celebrate the culmination of all that you have worked so hard for. Just as I am challenging myself to be a better teacher for you, especially now, I challenge all of my colleagues to continue to strive to make this the best it can be. For you.

So, Congratulations to the Class of 2020! Thank you for letting me be your teacher. I wish you the best in the next steps of your lives, and I hope you can make this world a better place. I believe in you.

One of your wise classmates quoted Winston Churchill: 

“Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”

Sincerely, 

Michael Flanagan, Ed.D.