The image connected with this post was created by nationally renown cartoonist and maze-maker Joe Wos. At our request, he created a maze to illustrate the difficulties of navigating the complex terrain of school during the pandemic. (If you like the maze, you can enjoy a cup of coffee in a mug featuring the maze image. Click on “Store” on the main menu.) The following reflection offers a glimpse into the special difficulties the authors faced when complying with mask-mandates and social distancing guidelines. The conversation they share is an example of how teachers reached out to each other and found comfort and support through their in their on-line community. If you or your colleagues have formed similar supportive groups, please share your experiences. Knowing we are not alone can help us persist in the face of stressful circumstances.
Three Cups of Coffee
Megan Reister, Jane Ammon, and Stephanie J. Gardiner-Walsh
We three authors have never fit the mold that many would define as “normal.” Other than being white women working in higher education, our experiences differ from those of many of our peers. Each of us is, medically speaking, some version of deaf. We do not, however, completely fit into Deaf culture, which engenders a sense of “yet I am, but am not.”
We grew up in mainstreamed, general education classrooms, using hearing aids and spoken language to communicate with others. Stephanie is a Child of a Deaf Adult (CODA) and is proficient in sign language. Jane is a speech language pathologist. Meg is an early interventionist. All have hearing spouses and hearing children. All of us are college professors and researchers who work with pre-service teachers at our respective institutions—a large public state school, a small private liberal arts school, and a large community college. Despite the differences in our settings and variations in the details of our hearing loss, we have in common the challenge of being the “faces of difference” in our classrooms. Teaching primarily hearing students has shaped the unique and creative ways in which we “do school.” Long before COVID, this dual identity of “same, yet different” presented challenges; yet those challenges were exacerbated by the restrictions imposed by COVID—primarily mask-wearing and social-distancing.
During the Fall semester of 2020 and the Spring semester of 2021, two of our institutions offered only online courses; the third offered face-to-face instruction for the entire school year. During both semesters, the three of us taught entirely online.
Through Jane and Stef’s connections with Meg, the three of us came together as a group via Zoom. What started as a quick introduction evolved into multiple conversations through which we explored our experiences of motherhood, deafness, and teaching during the pandemic. Although we now live in different areas of the country, we all share strong connections to the Appalachian Coal region of Pennsylvania. Hence, we named our on-line conversations, the Coal Cracker Coffee Chats.
We identify ourselves as MotherScholars[1] whose roles as mother, teacher, and researcher are inextricably intertwined. Often the focus of our Coffee Chats flows seamlessly among concerns associated with our overlapping roles. Here we share a brief example of a conversation in which we touch on issues of accessibility, communication, and identity.
Stef: I had come to the common screen to chat with other people who know the experience of being hard of hearing in academia. As someone who is white, cis-gender, and straight, it has been difficult to see myself as an under-represented group, because I am very much a part of the majority. As a hard of hearing person, I “pass” enough as hearing that I often feel like an imposter. I know that I am faking the level of accessibility I have, but COVID-19 has exaggerated barriers to communication.. Communal space has helped me to see how much I have been craving a safe space to talk about the frustrations I experience, but feel insecure in expressing at work.
I have a colleague at work who faces similar challenges in her department. We’ve bonded super closely because we’re dealing with sensory disability. In our field, in our departments, they should know what to do. But it’s fatiguing. Having each other now has really helped us. It’s so much easier to go directly to someone who was successful navigating the system. We can feed off each other’s understanding.
Jane: I think it’s the same thing that our students of color do. It’s like the book about all the black kids sitting together,[2] They need that common bond.
Stef: Maybe that’s why these conversations restore me. It’s common space without having to explain or justify myself.
Meg: I was at a Zoom meeting and asked to be note taker. I thought, “Well this is going to be great, because I don’t have to deal with a mask. I can see faces. I’ll take notes and read stuff verbatim.” But then the captions were wrong. So I put in the chat box, “Can someone clarify for the person with hearing loss?” I didn’t want to interrupt the conversation, but I couldn’t keep up, because I didn’t know what a key word was.
Stef: I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have been the note taker and how many times I’d be like, “You all realize that the deaf person just became the note taker?”
Jane: Yeah, and typically when the meeting is in person, I will interrupt. That’s what I do. I’ll just pretend I need clarification in my role as note taker. But really it’s self-advocacy.
Stef: I’m always told I overshare and have no boundaries. But that is part of deafness. If my family and friends don’t overshare, I don’t get information. I don’t hear things incidentally. As teachers of the Deaf, we overshare because it’s the only way our students get information that others just pick up casually. But I also think it’s part of growing up in a small town. It’s like Thornton Wilder’s play, Our Town, Everyone knows everything about everyone—and that’s the norm.
Jane: I tell students all the time, “You guys feel like you know so much about me, but I’ve chosen what I’m going to share with you. I’ve chosen what parts of my life I’m going to be completely open and honest about. I have a lot of my life that you guys don’t know.”
Meg: I talk to students about sharing being part of best practices in teaching. It’s really interesting to think about how they feel comfortable. I’m doing research on “other mothering” and share where that comes from. Connections occur through sharing. It all ties back into vulnerability.
Stef: I feel that vulnerability more now, because everything is recorded due to COVID. I wonder what will be used against me. But you’re right, I’ve always felt that “other mother” piece, Those are the teachers that pulled me through; those are the teachers I’ve modeled my teaching practice after. As a student, I knew which teachers always had the solution for every physical or emotional emergency we experienced in the day.
Meg: But that’s the nature of itinerant teaching. It’s that “other mother” piece. We are the ones who carried the batteries and the tubes; the ones who knew what students with hearing loss were experiencing since we had hearing loss ourselves. It’s being part of our pedagogy. We did this as itinerant teachers before we were moms.
Stef: That’s the hardest part of COVID—this separation of connection. Yet, I feel like they are in my living room every day, and I’m not going to hide my kids. So my daughters are in and out of my classroom constantly. The boundaries I normally have are blurred making this whole boundary thing even harder to understand.
But here’s a cool thing. The girls are listening and picking up on my profession. The other day Kat said, “I’m deaf like mommy,” while signing what she was saying. We had to have this whole conversation on what deafness is and what a CODA is. This happened right in the middle of class. You can’t make that up. It just happened. And suddenly my class had a glimpse into my life in a way I would have never shared, but it was MAGICAL.
Meg: Oh my gosh! She’s really becoming a CODA kid. My daughter Charlotte is the same. Even though we are not a signing family, she knows to get in my line of vision. She has even physically turned my head and said, “Mommy, pay attention to me” or “Do you have your hearing aids in, Mama?”
Jane: I’ve asked my kids over the years, “How do you feel about the fact that your mom is hard of hearing?” They’re just like, ‘That’s who you are, and I don’t think anything of it.”
One of my biggest fears about the pandemic was if I had to go to the hospital. The masks cut off communication. Normally, my husband goes with me, because I can understand his deep voice. But now…
Stef: Every day it’s a reminder of our lack of access.
Meg: You know, it’s not just during these times. I remember before I had Charlotte—and that was way before the pandemic—I talked to Stef about the masks and trying to speech-read while in labor. I was like, “Stef! How did you speech-read while in labor?”
Stef: Yep! I remember that. Back to that oversharing problem. Gotta tell the whole labor story with details I’d never tell anyone else.
Jane: Totally. But you know, with the pandemic and the masks, I worry because I struggle to understand what’s being said. I wonder if my credibility in the classroom will go down, because I constantly need repeating.
Meg: The other day, I was sitting in a circle with my students, and I was nodding my head with the conversation. But I wasn’t being asked a “yes/no” question, and it was like I was called out. Suddenly they all realized I didn’t really know what was being said. I just saved face by asking them to remove their masks, saying we are far enough apart we aren’t breaking social-distance rules. Why did I let my insecurities get in the way, but I realize there are certain people in our lives who get it faster. It’s nice to have colleagues like you; you understand what it’s like. This group is especially nice since I don’t have anyone at my university who’s in the same boat.
Jane: Yeah, so excited! It was awesome talking today.
Stef: Let’s meet again soon. I’m gonna go refill my coffee before my next meeting.
“Eavesdropping” on conversations among friends always gives an incomplete picture of the topics under discussion. We hope, however, this brief excerpt of a Coffee Chat gives readers some insight into the complications presented by COVID. In some ways, the complications have always been part of our lives: difficulty hearing others; the embarrassment of asking others to repeat themselves; the vulnerability of being different and needing special considerations. Each of us had developed compensatory strategies that worked in our lives as mothers, teachers, and researchers. However, the mask-wearing and social-distancing restrictions of COVID brought new twists.
Zoom mitigated some problems associated with in-person meetings, but automated captions which were not always accurate posed other barriers. Although appropriate sharing of personal information is integral to our relational pedagogy, teaching online eroded our control over what we choose to share. The boundaries between school and home became more porous in our home-based classrooms. Sometimes this resulted in wonderfully spontaneous teachable moments with our students. And our own children gained insight into our professional lives as persons with hearing loss teaching in teacher education programs. Yet, these blurred boundaries exacerbated an underlying sense of vulnerability. Others had unprecedented access to what and how we teach. How might this information be used to judge us? What will they make of the mixed messages between our own experiences and the expectations of others?
Sharing through our online Coffee Chats helped us to deal with feelings precipitated by the pandemic. We felt supported as the pandemic re-activated questions about motherhood, deafness, academia, and identity. As MotherScholars these questions are never far from our thoughts. So, whatever “new normal” emerges from the pandemic, the Coal Country Coffee Chats offer a safe space for dealing with doubts, frustrations, and moments of success. May this coffee pot never run dry and may our conversations continue!
[1] Lapayese, Yvette. Mother-Scholar: (Re)Imagining K-12 Education. . Rotterdam, Netherlands: Sense Publishers, 2012.
Matias, Cheryl E. “American Educational Research Association (AERA).” In Paying It Forward: Mother Scholars Navigating the Academic Terrain. . New Orleans, LA, 2011.
[2] Tatum, B. (2017). Why are all the black kids sitting together in the cafeteria?( Revised edition). Basic Books.
Wow! I thoroughly enjoyed reading this article/conversation! As a pre-service educator and college student with some hesitancies and worries about how students will perceive me when I do fieldwork in the classrooms, it is comforting to see educators who can talk through their similar struggles and gain wisdom, compassion, and fellowship! I do not have hearing loss but seeing how you deal with your struggles teaches me a lot about how I can deal with my own. From all my years of being a student I can attest to the struggle that it is easy to be intimated by some teachers who seem to have complete confidence, few struggles, and very high expectations. Now things such as high expectations are good but I have found that when teachers are vulnerable with some of their human struggles, my respect for them grows. When I know that my teacher has compassion because they understand what it means to be a student and the struggles that come with it I am put at ease. In the case of this article, a student with hearing loss would feel very much understood and at peace if their teacher also struggled with the same thing and shared about it! It was mentioned that you struggle with the balance of vulnerability and how much to share, but I would just like to affirm that as a student I am totally okay with, for example, repeating something I said to help a teacher who is hard of hearing. Students should help out teachers at times since they help us a majority of the time! I also like how you tie in teaching and motherhood and it made me reflect on how when I start teaching I won’t be a mother but I can definitely be a mother figure for some students!
Emma, What you’ve said is so important in terms of the adjustment to teaching. Too many beginning teachers are leaving the field within the first 5 years, often because it is not what they expected. It seems to me that by seeing examples of how expereinced teachers struggle and need support, it would help new teachers understand that we’re always learning how to do the job. It’s not like we graduate with all the knowledge to be experts the minute we walk into our own classroom. It takes tme to gain a sense of comfort and confidence. I hope the conversation in the post inspires you to start building a supportive network while you are in school and keeping up those connections after graduation. Also, I hope you’ll stay connected with the Scholar-Practitioner Nexus. Maria
This article has really opened my eyes to see that even teachers have struggles wether if they deal with disabilities or not. I find these conversations very inspiring to see three different teachers with different backgrounds but have the same disability come together and talk about issues that they have to deal with as teachers especially issues most teachers do not have to experience daily. To see their issues, and especially to see their true vulnerability with each other, that they are able to be open about this because not only are they helping teachers who are deaf, but are also helping teachers who do not have disabilities. They are also not just helping educators but also helping students with and without disabilities .To show that no matter how difficult it can be with their studies, that there are lots of educators and websites that are able to help them. I find these conversations very encouraging for people who have disabilities, because these educators show that even though it is extremely hard to do their jobs, that their is always a way, and especially they show that you are never alone with your struggles that you deal with in the education department.
We are so lucky to have a relationship that started as collegial and ended as a friendship. I think our connections really allow us to be vulnerable with one another. Honestly, it’s been a few months since we last met for a coffee chat– and I think I need to get us back together.
I am so inspired by your resilience in the face of these challenges! It is also humbling to get a glimpse into the lives of individuals with hearing disabilities and then to see how they figure out such effective, successful, and graceful ways to overcome their challenges. As a pre-service teacher, it is also meaningful for me to understand that teachers have struggles too because often as students we don’t see those as much and so we can develop a false sense of the reality of the profession. At the same time, it is further meaningful to see teachers overcome challenges so well, and it gives me hope that with the proper effort, I can succeed as well.
Nati and Collette,
Thank you for adding your thoughts to the conversation. If you have a few moments, would you be willing toshare a little more about the type of teacher you are hoping to be? What grade and subject? What ideas will guide your work with students? I’d love to hear more. Maria
I really enjoyed reading this article! It is so good to keep in mind! It is a great reminder that teaching based on how you learn is not what is always best for students. I am personally a tactile learner; however, if I focus on this I would be leaving out the students who are not. Or, if I am an auditory learner and focus on teaching in this way, I would be leaving out students who either are not auditory learners, or who may even have hearing disabilities. It is very important to keep in mind that one should differentiate instruction to fit the needs of all of the students. Every learner is different, and teachers need to keep this in mind. I had never thought about it until now, but I tend to make a lot of lessons very hands-on because that’s just what I find most engaging personally. This article is a great reminder to think about not only my future students, but my future coworkers and professors.
I thought this article was insightful. It showed me the perspective of teachers or professors who experience or have experienced deafness. I was around deaf children growing up because my friend’s younger siblings are deaf. I learned so much by spending time with their family. One thing I thought was interesting was how teachers who experience deafness were affected by covid. When Meg talked about how it was difficult for her to be a note-taker because the captions did not pick up everything the speaker said, I thought about how difficult covid is for students who were deaf. Remote learning has affected all students. Remote learning particularly affected individuals with a disability. Overall, this article gave me empathy for people who have a disability and were forced to teacher or learn remotely during covid.
This post was so inspiring to read, thank you for sharing your experiences so honestly and openly! As a pre-service teacher, it is so hopeful to see teachers coming together to collaborate and share their experiences. It reminds me that we are truly in this together. I feel that it is easy to disregard the needs and struggles of teachers and the work that goes on behind the scenes–what you have done is so valuable! This gives me hope that I too will be supported in my teaching journey in service.