Reopening After a School Closure and Lessons Learned from the Pandemic

This return to the classroom looks and feels like the first day of school. Just like September, all teachers and students are masked; arrows indicate traffic flow directions through the school’s central cortiles and down each hallway. Standing in the Cortile, one can hear snippets of the City of Rome class, Inge Weustink introducing the new unit on “Sustainable Cultural Heritage,” and the beginning of an IB Environmental Systems and Society class, Jan Claus Di Blasio explaining the difference between climate and weather. During classes, when the Cortile’s benches stand empty, voices continue to fill this open space, as each classroom door and all windows remain open throughout the day, facilitating the constant circulation of fresh air. Every so often, a stray student or teacher emerges from a classroom, bundled in a puffy coat, wool scarf, and knit hat. Just before lunchtime, a gregarious, energetic group of Latin I students rushes through the Cortile, hurrying to make it in time for the departure of their field trip to decipher ancient Latin inscriptions at the Aventine Hill churches of Santa Prisca and Santa Sabina.

Caught up in the euphoria and relief of the first day back in school (albeit at 50% capacity), it is easy to forget the confusion and pain of late October 2020 when the latest nationwide school closure was announced.

Back in late October, few felt the impact of the shift to remote learning (first 50%, then 75%, then, two weeks later, 100%) more acutely than grade eleven boarder Vittoria Giusti. In her short essay, “Reflections on the Strength and Resilience of an SSS Boarding Student,” she writes:

Again .... all at once... I was forced to pack up (I would say books and notebooks more than anything else) and go home to Naples; again, everything seems finished; we only meet online, now I don't feel motivated to finish projects.

I regard Vesuvio from my windows; it seems to me real patient, resistant to any pandemic.

I am no longer angry, like in March, but just tired.

I read in the newspaper that getting used to distance learning benefits me and prepares me for university studies. Indeed this is good news! But will it be true? I think so, but my current problem is getting my life back.

Now the school is going to reopen ... well ... half of it ... so no more lessons in pajamas and food all day.

I try again, I resist. Maybe Vesuvio will help me!

To stay sane in this pandemic, we have each had to find our Vesuvio, our anchor, during a time of constant uncertainty. Personally, I cling to nonfiction books. Reading biographies of artists, writers, and the occasional U.S. president, I am reminded that others, shouldered with far greater responsibilities than my own, have conquered adversity and, in the best cases, become wise in the process.

Now that we are back together in the same building, we return to our daily rituals and begin the work of rebuilding our routines, but we are not the same people we were in March and not even the same people we were in October. In the words of one of my students (who joined the St. Stephen’s community this September), over the course of these past three months, we have learned how to wait. And, in moments like the morning of January 18th, we savor each hour, having learned never to take a school day for granted.