It seemed, at first, like an impossible task.
When Lincoln Public Schools closed its doors in March to help slow the spread of the coronavirus, Monica Asher figured there was no way the family literacy program that meets daily at 12 schools for parents of English Language Learners could continue.
The participants — more than 100 parents who joined the class to learn English and to better understand the work happening in their children’s classrooms — had shown little interest in remembering passwords and usernames and communicating through email.
“That was not one of their top goals for the program,” said Asher, LPS family engagement coordinator. “They wanted to learn English and connect with their students and know what resources were available for them.”
Given the challenges of setting up email accounts, the idea of teaching families how to use Zoom seemed like too steep a hill, and she told her staff continuing the program wasn’t going to be possible.
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Then she got an inkling she was wrong.
The parents were talking to bilingual liaisons and literary specialists and made it clear they did not want to give up.
“It was very evident that we had to try,” Asher said. “So we kind of did a 180 and decided we were going to do it.”
And over time — as the coronavirus pushed its way through the state — it seemed not only possible, but invaluable.
“We were able to tell them about new precautions they should be taking with COVID,” said Peggy Newquist, who taught classes to parents of students at Elliott and Prescott elementary schools. “Before spring break (the virus) had only been reported in Washington state. By the time we were all online together, things had radically changed.”
Teachers told parents about social distancing — using a tape measure to demonstrate the 6-foot distance to make sure they understood. They tried to squash the myths about the virus. They told them about renters' rights and COVID-19 scams and food distribution sites. They advised them to wear masks, to send just one person to the grocery store, to wash their hands often, not touch their faces, use hand sanitizer.
First, though, they had to get connected.
Teachers and supervisors began contacting families and setting up email accounts. In some cases, they used their child’s school Chromebook to set up an account through their Google Classroom, Asher said.
Internet access wasn’t a big problem, she said, and they ended up delivering only a few wifi hotspots to families so they could log on. Mostly, the parents changed their attitude about mastering the technology.
“They knew this had to happen and now it was a priority,” Asher said.
LPS was the first district in the state to begin family literacy programs two decades ago, funded through the National Center for Families Learning, Asher said.
The program has four parts: English classes for the parents; child care for the younger children; parent time when the class discusses community issues, connects parents to resources and helps them navigate a new culture and community; and time in their child’s classroom, where they can see what happens, get to know the teachers and learn with their child.
Family Literacy delivered via Zoom was different: no child care, so LPS officials shared activities parents could do with their younger children at home. Classes were an hour, rather than two, and they offered reviews and additional support in various forms.
“It was a process,” Newquist said. “I think the first day we had three parents from Elliott and one from Prescott. And we were thrilled to death. Because it’s baby steps.”
And those baby steps worked, with more than 100 parents ultimately linking to Zoom each day to learn English, and connect with other parents, and learn about what was happening in their community.
At first, parents had lots of questions about when school would be back in session, Newquist said. In addition to working on English, teachers also helped parents understand remote learning so they could help and monitor their children's schoolwork. They also learned a lot about computers.
And they learned how to be safe in a pandemic.
Cultural centers had already been reaching out to people in their communities to help them understand how to protect themselves from the virus, translating information from the city, health department and CDC into numerous languages, connecting people to food distribution sites and other resources.
But the family literacy meetings turned out to be vital sources of information, too.
At least two parents interviewed — both from Burma — whose husbands worked at meatpacking plants, said they learned how to take precautions from their family literacy teachers: How their husbands should take off shoes outside, to shower before hugging their kids and families.
Still, it’s been hard. Newquist said at one point, some of the parents began to ask about symptoms. Teachers encouraged them to get tested. Three — all with some family connections to those who work at meatpacking plants — tested positive, though they are OK now.
At Newquist’s last class of the school year, teachers and students brought flowers and cookies and balloons to their Zoom meeting to celebrate. They gave themselves pats on the back.
And they got some good news: the district got a grant to continue the family literacy classes this summer, for the first time in two decades. Doing the classes remotely, while it presents challenges, also eliminates barriers such as transportation and deciding which schools to offer summer classes, Asher said.
So far, 38 families have been participating in summer school.
Still, at the last regular Zoom meeting, before summer classes began, the parents had a question.
“When COVID-19 is gone will we still meet in Zoom?"
Their teacher gave them the most definitive answer she could.
“I don’t know about COVID,” Newquist said. “But as soon as it’s safe to be together in a classroom we will. Zoom is just temporary. Because it’s better face-to-face.”