As the academic year comes to a close in communities across the country, the work for education reporters is only ramping up.
The work ahead will include finding students and their families willing to share how remote learning has affected them — and who has been left behind, says Shelly Conlon, who covers education in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Conlon’s investigative reporting for The Argus Leader last year prompted legislation that aims to change how the state educates deaf and hard of hearing children.
“I have to just keep reminding them (parents) that we can’t tell these important, relatable stories without them and that even if they feel alone now — and maybe more alone than ever before because of the pandemic — they’re not,” Colon said in an email interview. “And we’re here to listen and share with others.”
Education reporters have big questions ahead, she said:
- Who is paying attention to minority populations and how they’re treated during this time?
- Who is making sure they’re not getting left behind and how? This includes racial and socioeconomic disparities, as well as students with special needs.
Education reporters will need to “look for those who may even have less a voice now than they did before the pandemic, and ask how they’re doing,” Conlon said.
That includes a close eye on how schools and districts will measure student success. Remote learning and waived standardized testing in states across the U.S. could create gaps that impact both state and federal funding in years to come.
“SD schools don’t have the same risk factor as say, Texas, where schools could be closed down if they don’t meet a certain measure of success for state testing for a few years,” Conlon said. “But those records still dictate how and where the state spends money for additional support to help students meet those goals the next year.
“It’s too soon to tell how not doing those state exams could affect things long-term.”
With teaching and learning taking place remotely, how have you adapted your day-to-day coverage of schools and districts?
Conlon: We also work remotely, so there seems to be a mutual understanding that if we’re doing interviews, it will be by phone or by video chat. I don’t attend school board meetings in person anymore, but I listen in instead as at least half of the board members call in remotely as well. It means I can’t ask on-the-spot questions, so I rely more heavily on the rapport I’ve built with my sources to either ask questions ahead of time or have the flexibility I need to call them, text or email when it’s urgent because we have a different level of access than before the pandemic.
When it comes to teachers and students, I rely heavily on social media for finding those sources or the public information officers within my primary district to help get us connected. And if, for whatever reason, a family is comfortable to meet in person, we wear PPE and social distance in the living room or do the interview from the porch to make sure we’re all safe. Sure, there are things they can’t answer because of our open records laws in this state, but they’ve been seemingly understanding that this is a difficult time for everyone and it’s better to over-communicate than under. Each day before a school board meeting, my primary school district also hosts a teleconference with media. The district did this before the pandemic, but the calls last longer now to give media a chance to ask any questions we need.
That doesn’t mean our role as watchdogs are any easier. In fact, because we’re all spread out and working remotely, as well as living in one of — if not the most — restrictive states when it comes to access to public information, I rely heavily on my families and community members to share documentation. Here’s an example.
But I also serve a unique role in that I’m both a crime reporter and education reporter. That started in January as a way to flex our investigative skills on the crime beat and pull back on some of the more “turn of the screw” education stories to focus on more enterprising work. The education stories don’t happen as often, but we’ve strived to find a balance between what readers really want to know and need to know — something ever essential, but challenging during a pandemic, when you’re constantly working at a break-neck pace.
What are the big questions for education reporters to answer for the public?
Conlon: Who is paying attention to the minority populations and how they’re treated during this time? Who is making sure they’re not getting left behind and how? This not only includes racial disparities and socioeconomic disparities, but for those who are special needs as well. Look for those who may even have less a voice now than they did before the pandemic, and ask how they’re doing.
What education stories or angles are most important to consider as administrators focus on when or whether to reopen public schools?
Conlon: Funding and data will play major roles as districts head into the next year. For example, in SD, lawmakers put a plan in place to give teachers a raise and move their salaries up from last in the country a few years ago. A year after that plan started, the state fell behind on its funding and has never recovered. This year, teachers protested because the governor’s 2021 budget proposed no raise at all, which would’ve put funding even further behind, especially when at least 80 percent of a district’s budget is usually salaries. The governor and lawmakers ended up approving more funding after all, but then the pandemic happened. Now the state has called a special session this summer to redo the budget, and districts have put budget season on hold until they know whether the money they thought they’d have is being reduced, which of course, has a ripple effect if so.
As far as the data side goes, this is more a question about how schools and districts will measure student success. Aptitude and state standardized testing have been waived at the federal level here in SD. Now, SD schools don’t have the same risk factor as say, Texas, where schools could be closed down if they don’t meet a certain measure of success for state testing for a few years. But those records still dictate how and where the state spends money for additional support to help students meet those goals the next year.
It’s too soon to tell how not doing those state exams could affect things long-term.
With your coverage of how South Dakota schools have failed deaf students — and the ripple effect on legislation — you’ve seen the impact that uncovering untold education policy stories can have for students and their families. Do you worry that COVID-19 will hurt education reporters’ abilities to uncover these types of stories?
Conlon: Absolutely, I worry about that all the time. I want to know what I’m missing. Some days, I feel like there’s not enough of me to go around. I’m already serving dual roles, and it’s no secret that part of our staff has been furloughed. I know there are stories we’re not telling yet, and there’s even a level of fear that wasn’t there before because people are scared to talk in person.
I tried to do a story about how parents were balancing work with their child’s remote learning. It’s a story that should’ve taken a week at most. It took three, because parents already felt overwhelmed and weren’t comfortable talking beyond what they shared through social media. They struggled to admit they needed help.
But I have to just keep reminding them that we can’t tell these important, relatable stories without them and that even if they feel alone now — and maybe more alone than ever before because of the pandemic — they’re not, and we’re here to listen and share with others. The truth of the situation matters, and others need to see that to move forward, create change and improve their circumstances.
Here’s how that story turned out.
What else should journalists know about the education reporting during COVID-19?
Conlon: It’s emotional for everyone, and the constant drum of “pandemic, pandemic, pandemic” can numb you if you’re not careful, especially on days that feel like they last for years, or you feel like you’re writing about nothing but doom and gloom. But you can’t allow that. Once you do, it means you’re no longer seeking the humanity in a story and looking for how what you’re reporting on is truly affecting people.
Your mental health is just as important as anyone else’s.
How are you taking care of yourself?
Conlon: I’m grateful I work with wonderful editors who strive to put mental health first. At one point, not long ago, we were in the middle of the nation’s No. 1 hotspot for the virus in a single facility. It shook our entire community, and had national ramifications on pork production plants.
But from the beginning, from the time we found out about the first case late one night, to the first school district shuttering its doors that same night close to midnight because the case was a parent with children in the district, our editors have regularly said, “if you need time to take a break, be it a day or an afternoon off, speak up. We’ll give that to you.”
I’ve tried hard to pay attention to when I need to take that mental step back and breathe. And when I need it, I ask. I know my team is counting on me, as is my family.
From there, I do the little things to help myself, the coping methods I learned long ago to fend off moments when I felt like I was overwhelmed: I take a hot bubble bath, watch ridiculous TV, spoil myself with a small treat or try to read a book. I look at the picture of my beautiful daughter on my desk, or videos I’ve taken during her first year and a half of life. I even keep a hand-written note my husband wrote when all this started at my work-from-home office to help me stay motivated.
And I step away from my desk as often as I can. I work in a chilly basement at the moment, and because I can’t go out and speak with my community as much as I used to, just going upstairs or on the back porch for lunch makes all the difference in the world.