A Teacher’s Promise: “From this Season, You will Grow”

Dear Beloved Students,

I know that you have been working hard to prepare for exams that you will no longer take. I know that you’ve committed yourself to months of rehearsals for a show that will no longer be seen, and that you’ve practiced for hours on a team that can no longer play the game. I am sorry for your feelings of loss and urge you not to give up on those goals, but instead, to view this season as an opportunity to continue to grow. You’ve been isolated from your friends, your teachers, your school. The comfort of your home has been tainted by the weight of heavy air, tense energy, short responses, and stern expressions. I am sorry that you are scared—for so many reasons. But, I want you to know—from this season, you will grow.

Take these days to sit and observe the stir around you. Allow yourself permission to disregard unnecessary pressures during this time. I understand that academic progress is important to you, but remember that so much is learned through life experience. Trust that this period of uncertainty will pave the way for a deeper level of understanding than any conventional classroom environment could have. I am sorry that it may go against everything that you’ve been taught up until this point. But, I want you to know—from this season, you will grow.

As best as you are able, be kind to yourself. Though many of us find comfort in routine, it is important to recognize that there is nothing “normal” about these circumstances. Allow yourself time to process and acknowledge the realities of the new world around you. Keeping yourself distracted out of fear will only deter the development of coping mechanisms that will serve you throughout your lifetime. Give yourself permission to feel anxious and afraid for a short period, but then recognize this season as an opportunity to mature into the active, responsive community member that you were always meant to be. These hard days will teach you about citizenship, leadership, and problem solving. I am sorry that your normal routine has been turned upside down. But, I want you to know—from this season, you will grow.

Take note of the quiet heroes around you. The ones who you may not have always seen or appreciated. The ones who instinctively wave their families goodbye each morning to charge the front lines of this monster, despite their fears. Coming from all different educational and career backgrounds, they are similar in their ability to recognize their place in this fight for the better interest of humanity. These people will leave you feeling inspired and grateful for the rest of your lives. These people will teach you about honor, commitment, and service. I am sorry that we need so many heroes right. But, I want you to know—from this season, you will grow.

Make a concerted effort to spend time with the people you love. Within the confines of your own home, play a board game. Have a dance party. Write a heartfelt letter and slip it under someone’s door. Act in ways that will promote interpersonal communication and quality time. In this digital era, we’ve become disconnected as human beings. This is a wonderful opportunity to re-connect with one another. Though we are apart, we can still find ways to be “together.” Utilize technology as a means of connecting with other people who you cannot physically be with. Call them. Listen to them. Identify with them. For some who are lonely and scared, simply hearing your voice may provide a great sense of hope and comfort. Take care in the way that you treat the people who are dearest to you. Make sure that they know how you feel. I am sorry that we cannot be together right now. But, I want you to know—from this season, you will grow.

Connect with nature, as well. While there may feel like no place to “go,” stepping out into fresh air can make a world of difference. Any time of the day, step outside. Take a mug of something warm, close your eyes, breathe deeply, and listen. Nature will speak to you. Notice the colors changing around you as the days pass. Walk. Look for different shapes in the clouds. When the most difficult moments arise, refer back to nature for comfort and resolve. In these unsettling times, the wonder in the world around you will remain constant. These days of being home bound days will teach you about mindfulness, beauty, and spirituality. I am sorry that at times, you may feel trapped. But, I want you to know—from this season, you will grow.

Pitch in when you can. Adults are not accustomed to trying to balance childcare with household chores and working from home. Additionally, widespread unemployment is creating financial hardship for a majority of families. There will also be limited availability for ideal food choices and other novelties that you may otherwise be accustomed to. Learn from your elders about how to prepare meals with staple ingredients in your home. Make a family game of meal planning on a budget, or a race to find who makes a bed the fastest. Help out with the laundry responsibilities. Organize a space that has been needing attention. These household responsibilities will teach you about resourcefulness, consumerism, and teamwork. I’m sorry that your home life feels more stressed than usual. But, I want you to know—from this season, you will grow.

Most importantly, we are all in this together. Every person, regardless of socio-economic class will feel the wrath of this historical experience in some way. We will all feel fear. We will all miss hugging someone, or casually meeting for a cup of coffee in our favorite local shop. We will all feel some kind of loss. There is no amount of money that can buy our guaranteed health and safety. In fact, this season will teach many of us that money has nothing do with wealth. Throughout this experience, we will all seek solace in nature and comfort in our loved ones. With each passing day, we will all walk forward with renewed perspective. We will all recognize essential workers as our unsung heroes. We will be all be reminded of simpler pleasures that we have taken for granted. We will all come out of this experience with a greater appreciation for life.

This season presents itself with a blank canvas for every single one of us. And I want you to know—from that canvas, we will grow.
With Love,
Your Teacher

Before our Eyes: Roots in the Ruins

It has been about one week since President Trump formally declared a national emergency in response to the fast and furious global outbreak of COVID-19 (Coronavirus). Originating in Wuhan, China just months ago, the pneumonia-type illness has spared not a single nation, bringing us all to our knees. Today, as I write this, there are 9,415 cases of the illness diagnosed in the U.S., spanning all 50 states. Here in New York, we are faced with the highest number of confirmed cases in the country. Social distancing has become an urgent, widespread command. It’s a phrase that we never wanted to be so familiar with, as we struggle to find our place between panicked and prepared. 

Confined to our homes and discouraged even from visiting the local parks, out of fear of our homebound children seeing (and subsequently engaging with) their friends; the very nature of this disease seems to remind us of life’s sweetest simplicities that we should have never taken for granted. 

We head to the grocery stores, reluctantly, because we have to—our families need to eat. We make sure to keep a minimum of 6 feet between ourselves and the other masked, gloved, anxious humans.  Together, we stare at the empty refrigerator where we were hoping to find a single dozen eggs. There’s no meat of any kind. No bread, either. Not even flour or yeast to make our own bread. Not a single bunch of bananas. People have been hoarding toilet paper so frantically, that it has become a widespread joke.  We aren’t laughing now. We move up and down each aisle in a sort of slow motion, more deliberately and carefully than we moved in this same store, just two weeks ago.

Unfortunately, it’s not because we are taking our time to be courteous—it’s just that we don’t want to pierce that gap of potential contagion. Occasionally, our eyes meet. We identify in one another’s fright.  This pandemic has pulled the proverbial rug from underneath us all. 

Just one month ago, the same shopping experience was far less dismal. Or was it? Were there concerning symptoms before? Were we unable to see them? Did we not want to see them? Today, perhaps in the most ironic side effect of all, this pandemic has required us to look up. We are suddenly forced to be keenly aware of our surroundings. We are forced to notice one another. This grocery store, just a few weeks back, would have been buzzing with the same over-scheduled, hurried, device-obsessed people—most of whom would have been multi-tasking in some form (myself included); Pushing the shopping cart while talking on the phone, texting or referring to a list stored on their device, checking emails while ordering their cold cuts, ignoring the attention-seeking behaviors of their children, etc.

And now? Post COVID-19 outbreak?

Here on Long Island, you’d be hard pressed to find a single adult in any such state of device-related hyperfocus. None of us are willing to to risk any amount of potential cross contamination, or heaven forbid, our child’s mouth touching the shopping cart handle. It’s such a dramatic turnaround and I can’t help but think—is this some “wake up” call? Is there some Higher Power demanding the we regain perspective of the most important matters in life? Have we been denying the symptoms of our human dis-connectedness for far too long?

Ok, universe. You have our attention.

Undoubtedly, there will be many who find my suggestions to be too philosophical, faith-based, or “hokey” for their tastes. I accept that. But personally, I’ve never been one to believe in irony or coincidence. All I know is, on this first day of Spring (there’s that irony, again), I’m hopeful for a rebirth.

It’s interesting how we all process situations differently, and at different paces. Some may argue that now, more than ever, we have become addicted to and dependent upon our screens. After all, during this time, people everywhere are confined to their homes and zoning out into their devices. Right?

Let’s think about that for a moment. Look a little closer into your home at what is happening right now. I will share with you what is happening in mine.

The screens are, undoubtedly present. We are using them for academic distance-learning, virtual dance classes, art experiences, museum and zoo tours.  A few times, we have looked up new recipes to bake during this extended period at home. We have created Google hang outs with our friends from school, and have had virtual conferences with our classmates and teachers.  Finally, we are FaceTiming members of our friends and family (who we genuinely miss), to check on them and to express our love. 

There’s an important distinction to note about our screen-use during this COVID-19 pandemic. As a result of this global health crisis, screen-use in our homes seems to have shifted from passive viewing, to activities that require active engagement. This means that we are more recently drawn to interactive choices, as opposed to those associated with hyperfocus, addiction and other negative, screen-related behaviors. 

Though we all regret the current circumstances, many of us are reflecting upon this period of social distancing as a time to strengthen our bonds within the family unit, and to find deeper meaning in the “little things” that we may have previously taken for granted.

Healthy, home cooked meals are more frequently being prepared without craze.  Dinner tables are being carefully set for sitting together, as the pace in most households has slowed, significantly. More productive, intentional conversations are being had between spouses, as breaking news updates require us to discuss family plans. Morning snuggles are extended—after all, there’s no rush without an open office or school. The kids are grabbing ziplock baggies and heading out for scavenger hunts in nature, just before we take our picnic baskets to the beach for lunch. Afternoon floor puzzles and games? Sure! Why not? And you know something else? I never realized how many exotic animals my son could identify! I’m certain that he didn’t learn them from me. The other little guy keeps sneaking to the fridge for leftover “green pancakes” that we made for St. Patrick’s Day. They certainly made up for the fact that our leprechaun couldn’t make it this year. Dear daughter? Happy as a clam, in the middle of the whole ordeal. Skipping to the window, as she gleefully tapes her “Be Well” rainbow onto our front door. This was part of an Instagram art lesson from Portugal entitled, “Vamos Todos Ficar Bem” which means, “let’s all be well.” 

In fact, many of the aforementioned activities were originally suggested by or facilitated by some social media post or website. Admittedly, COVID-19 has absolutely resulted in the increased use of screens, however, our choices seem to support human connection more than they had before the rapidly evolving global health crisis.

There is a collision of beauty and misfortune happening all around us.

People are falling ill with this horrific illness, many fatally. We are all fearing for our health and livelihood. None of us are sure how long we will be confined to our homes, when our children will return to school, or worse—when we will get sick. But somehow, in this brokenness, we have found the beauty of togetherness that had gone missing for too long. Countless numbers of people are pitching in to help out with creative new ideas that are keeping our children calm, in hopes of maintaining some form of routine and security for them. Screen use remains ubiquitous, but we’ve simultaneously grown more mindful of our relationships with one another. Families are having real conversations again. We are spending time together, expressing love for one another, lending our helping hands to those in need, and breaking bread together. 

Perspectives have been leveled. Before our eyes, we’ve found great clarity in some of our darkest days. I pray that we continue to redefine our values in the interests of human connection and bonding. And today, on this first day of Spring, that we vow to grow roots from these ruins.