From a post last week: Where are the masks? Where are the real ones, the ones that are documented to work — not the cute, handsewn ones with American flags and butterflies? Where are the wipes for the classrooms? Those shortages were entirely understandable in March and April, but we are now closing in on August.
Meanwhile, the PPE crisis is back in the news. I was struck by one sobering moment while listening to a CNN broadcast. Apparently some hospitals are “stockpiling” PPE equipment. Readers, stockpiling is a less-loaded synonym for hoarding — a nicer way of saying “we don’t know if we will be able to get supplies later, so we have stashed everything we can lay our hands on in the basement.” Only recently, I remember friends trying to find toilet paper because so many people had ‘stockpiled’ rolls. Neighborhood apps were filled with helpful sightings of Charmin, hand sanitizer, and other helpful items.
It’s almost August now: Where are the wipes? Of more concern, where are the REAL masks? How can it be that there is still not an N-95 in sight, outside of a hospital?
WHY ARE TEACHERS IN SOME AREAS AFRAID TO ENTER THE CLASSROOM?
LET’S START WITH THE REAL PPE CRISIS IN A TIME WHEN THE CDC RECOMMENDS MASKS FOR STUDENTS AND TEACHERS.
A teacher shared social media advice from a nurse friend recently. The nurse had recommended she obtain five N-95 masks for the school year and label them — M, T, W, Th, F. Then let each mask sit one week between uses to allow any attached germs to die from germ old age. That might be a fine plan — except for the part where she has to somehow find N-95 masks.
The Washington Post’s July 8th headline: “America is running short on masks, gowns and gloves. Again.” A snippet from the article: “Nurses say they are reusing N95 masks for days and even weeks at a time. Doctors say they can’t reopen offices because they lack personal protective equipment. State officials say they have scoured U.S. and international suppliers for PPE and struggle to get orders filled.” Meanwhile, the White House says PPE supplies are “adequate in most states.” Adequate in most states? What will that mean for school needs?
Even now, in hard hit areas, health professionals are locked in absurd battles to lay their hands on equipment they require to do their jobs properly. Governor Jay Inslee of Washington state described the situation as “akin to fighting a war in which each state is responsible for procuring its own weapons and body armor.” States are still competing with each other to find PPE supplies. In the absence of leadership and a coordinated response by the federal government, those supplies are not always available, while prices have been skyrocketing.
What will happen to the teachers who need those supplies? Doctors and dentists are looking for those better supplies, along with prisons, nursing homes, and other group care facilities. Traditional users of masks, such as construction and other factory workers, also want real masks, the masks that keep out toxic dust.
Yet within a month or two, millions of new users are scheduled to enter the market. According the the U.S. government, about 56.6 million students attended pre-K, elementary, middle and high school in the U.S. in 2019. They were taught by 3.7 million teachers. I ask readers to pause to think about those numbers. Let’s say we could do it right — which we can’t — we need, oh, about 60,000,000 masks for this group TO START.
Obviously we will be starting in different versions of butterfly masks and blue doctor’s offices masks. We have no choice. Those cute butterfly or Marvel superhero masks are not useless, but they certainly are not medical protective gear. They are better-than-useless-anyway-and-hopefully-good-enough protective gear.
Will education systems even try to enter the REAL market? I doubt they can afford to do so. Let me throw in another headline, this one from Newsweek: “Supplier Charging $7 Per Face Mask That Typically Costs 58 Cents, Hospital CEO Says.” Some sources are charging more than $7 apiece for those N-95 masks. For the vast majority of teachers, I would say the N-95 has to be taken off the table. School districts don’t have that kind of money for a commodity that has to be replaced regularly. I’m not sure who does.
WHY ARE TEACHERS AFRAID TO ENTER THE CLASSROOM?
ASIDE FROM THE LACK OF PPE EQUIPMENT, CLASSROOM DEEP CLEANING MAY ALSO LOOK OVERWHELMING TO MANY TEACHERS.
The absence of wipes for everyday consumers has to be spooking many teachers. How did I clean my classroom? At least one common technique involves walking around the classroom and passing out Clorox, Lysol or other wipes. But if there are any wipes in the greater suburban Chicago area, I have been unable to find them.
Yes, wipes can’t be considered essential. I can go through my room with a bottle of “This-Kills-Germs-Somehow,” passing out paper towels. I can’t do this with little kids, but older students should be able to help me. Otherwise I will be using lots of bottles of “This-Kills-Germs-Somehow” on my own in a classroom that may or may not have decent ventilation.
Because I know down in my bones that the custodial staff will not be rescuing me regularly. Yes, I am sure they will do an expanded night cleaning. But I doubt most districts can afford to expand the custodial staff beyond maybe one or two extra people at most. Those who hire out for cleaning probably don’t have funds to greatly increase their cleaning costs — and may be hit for higher costs regardless, depending on their contract.
These custodians doing the night cleanings are the same people who have been dumping the wastebaskets nightly but changing the trashbag once a week, the same people who sweep five days and mop once a week. I don’t want this to be construed as criticism. Our custodians work hard. A single day of school can create a breathtaking mess in some classrooms, common areas and cafeterias. But teachers looking at guidelines are clear — classroom cleaning is about to begin sucking up extra hours each week, with or without the help of students in the classroom.
Nursing homes, stores and other special needs facilities are managing to lay their hands on wipes. I am betting schools will too. But teachers looking into the empty gaps where those wipes used to sit cannot be blamed for feeling nervous. The usual snot on elementary school desks may feel like a biohazard in 2020.
Eduhonesty: Teachers and others are being asked to take a great deal on faith: 1) Faith that essential supplies will be available, including adequate sanitizer and barriers in classrooms and bathrooms; 2) Faith that rigorous night cleanings will be possible and will happen; 3) Faith that cute butterfly masks will work since the real stuff remains unavailable and 60,000,000 NEW PEOPLE MAY POTENTIALLY ENTER THE MARKET when America’s school doors are actually thrown open.
I suppose we could say that 3.7 million people are entering the PPE market, since the kids will probably be OK with little unicorn, Ironman or blue doctor’s office masks. But 3,700,000 or 30,000,000 or 60,000,000 — that’s a gigantic increase in demand for personal protective equipment given that we can’t meet demand now. I am leaving that 60,000,000 number out there for now, too. How much protection will teachers and students actually require to make the next school year work? No one knows.
The administration currently telling us kids hardly get sick is the same administration that told us COVID-19 might be gone by April, operating under the same leader who finally admitted in JULY that masks just might be a good idea. That administration is hoping that not too many kids will get sick. Well, we’ve seem a lot of hope in Washington D.C. get dashed on the rocks of reality.
I wonder if the 2020 administration has given any serious consideration to the impact on the PPE market of all those teachers, paraprofessionals, principals, assistant principals, deans, bus drivers, cafeteria workers, school nurses, school librarians, office workers and custodians? My millions above left out many people — all the nonteachers in a school who work together to help educate America’s children. I won’t belabor the well-covered issue of children losing, not using, chewing and abusing masks that then have to be replaced.
A quote from Stephen Covey: “Stop setting goals. Goals are pure fantasy unless you have a specific plan to achieve them.” Is there a plan? A better plan than an unworkable set of CDC guidelines? Because whether those guidelines can be made to function or not — and some school districts have much more money to throw at the problem than others — any plan that depends on PPE and deep cleaning is already in deep trouble.
