Class Assignment
I assigned my history classes to write a “Living History Journal” for this last quarter of the school year. Every week, they add a couple hundred words to their project, telling their story of life in the 2020 pandemic. I feel like someday, they will want to know what it was like to be twelve, or thirteen, or fourteen when the world came to a halt.
I was tempted to compare the project to the Diary of Anne Frank, but I didn’t want to scare them. Anyway, it gets them thinking about everything that’s new and different in their world. In the beginning they wrote about toilet paper shortages (and Raman noodle shortages too) and being able to sleep in. Now they talk a lot more about missing friends, lost trips and vacations, and struggles to stay on task in “online” school.
And they talk about the crisis. You can hear their parents’ views echoed in the journals, some saying we need to stay in isolation until we are sure, others talking about how we need to “open up” right away. You can also hear the fears, from the kids with parents working on the front line as nurses, or a police officers, or prison guards. And you read the worry they have about losing the “old” people in their lives.
Zooming
But what you hear most is the isolation. They miss their extended families, and they miss their friends. We have “Zoom” classes, something I’d never even heard of two months ago. In case you missed it, the kids all log their computers into a video meeting. Their pictures are arrayed on the screen like the Brady Bunch (that reference shows some age) and they can all participate.
There are issues with Zoom. There’s a time lag in the audio, and only one person is able to speak at a time. If a dog or someone’s little brother gets in the picture everyone sees it. But it’s a chance for the kids to communicate “live” with the teacher, and even more importantly with each other. As a teacher, it’s a frustrating experience (at least for me) but the kids get to socialize, maybe even more than to learn. In fact I “lost control” of my first sixth grade “Zoom Class”, the kids were talking to each other about anything besides Ancient Indian history. But that session also served a more important purpose than history, I think.
The kids talk about all the work they are doing around the house. Rooms are being built, mulch is being laid, gardens planted and lawns mowed. It’s happening here at my house too, right outside our front window. It’s good to get out in the sun even if it is to “work”.
Family
It was my oldest sister’s birthday last night, and we had a “Zoom” meeting for our entire family. We’ve been talking to each other a lot, but it was the first time that my two sisters and I have seen each other for more than a year. It was great to see everyone: sisters and husbands, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren. Like the sixth grade class, it was confusing and disjointed, but it was fun.
My “middle” sister is hunkered down in New Jersey just outside of New York City; my niece is a Nurse Practioner in the Denver area, working in nursing homes. They are in “hot spots” for the virus; it’s not a “somebody else” problem for them. But even under that risk, they continue to live their lives. My New Jersey sister and her husband are artists, and they do their work from home. And my niece does her job, and then comes home to three young kids. There’s not a lot of time to worry, though both do.
Time Served
We are all getting to that point here in the COVID-19 crisis. It’s been six weeks in isolation, and the kids, and my family, are all getting anxious to “get on” with life. My family is lucky, everyone who needs to work is working, and the oldest generation, mine, are all retired. Many of my kids’ families aren’t as lucky financially. But both from my family, and from the History Journals, the pressure is on.
This will be the really hard part. As pieces of the United States open, other parts will need to remain closed. Folks in Ohio will see people in other states going back to restaurants and bars, and wonder why we can’t do that. In Florida they are opening the beaches, while in Pataskala they just cancelled high school graduation and closed the local athletic fields. There’s a lot of mixed messaging going on. And the folks hearing those messages are anxious to “go”.
But “going” might be too soon, and create a whole new round of COVID-19 illness and death. No matter how you read the statistics that risk is clear. Can we suffer more time apart, available on “zoom” but not in real life? Can we handle the isolation even if it takes until we can all be tested, or even vaccinated? And if we can’t, are we willing to accept the moral responsibility of the death and suffering premature “opening” may cause?
As the commercial on TV just said, “…we’ve got to get this right”.
