So we are in a pandemic. Most of the country is on some form of lockdown. Those who can work from home, are. Those who can't risk their own lives to survive, so that the rest of us can. Teachers are expected to continue to teach. Remotely. Assuming they are able - outfitted with technology, stable in their homes with parents who can stay home with them, healthy and with healthy caregivers. The world is expected to continue spinning until...
So, in the midst of trying to cope and establish normalcy, I spend time in emergency remote teaching during the day, fortunate to have stable employment and a safe work environment. My family is healthy. I am in virtual contact with many, and often. I enjoy escape as much as anyone, but am finding it impossible to pull off.
I reach for the familiar pursuits. I throw myself into antiracism. There certainly is no shortage of projects, since we are in a heightened state of things. It is a balance of speaking up and telling the truth and fighting feeling that the words are useless. After all, can I really afford the stress physically? Can I afford to expend energy that may need to be stored for literal survival?
Is this all there is? Just a count-down until the last day? Do my students feel it? That I am not okay? I am not used to this silence from them. They are way too polite. We are not talking about the thing we are most afraid of. It is not normal. When will it be normal? Would we recognize normal now if it presented itself?
Reflecting is good for the soul. Doing so in public is terrifying and exhilarating.