Pandemic: Wave One/ Part Two

This picture was taken back in late March. I can’t believe it is the middle of July. The last couple of months have gone by in a haze of fear. But as we made it to June, things felt almost normal in NJ. Our COVID 19 numbers were lowering, and stores began to open. I almost cried when I was finally allowed into our local Barnes & Noble for the first time since March. We picked up our new puppy, Merlin. The school year ended.

And then, there was the emptiness.

Somehow it seemed easier to exist when I had some sort of a schedule and a longer to-do list. As work came to a close for the year, my life slowed down further. The puppy kept me busy, forcing me to wake-up earlier than I had in months, tracking his movements to make sure he didn’t take another dump on the blue, oriental style rug in our living room. But there was little else.

And then COVID 19 blew up in our southern states. The news once again showed images of over- crowded hospitals, and long lines for testing. Covid Death had come to a new part of the country, a part where some had watched NY and the rest of the northeast with skepticism. Wasn’t Covid just a bad flu? Weren’t the numbers exaggerated? My own sister, who lives in Tennessee, sent me articles stating that my local news was lying to us.

Watching what happened to NJ and the rest of our area happen in the South has triggered my anxiety. Combined with protests about racial inequalities and images of “Karens” behaving badly refusing to wear masks, FEAR has a stranglehold again. I had been hoping that NJ and NY would be the only severe outbreak spots.

And September is coming. Suddenly my job is a political football. I will be a front line worker in a classroom in a couple of months. This year, “Back to School” is not about cool new clothes, or school supplies. It’s about our President declaring we will go back despite new infections and our Vice President stating clearly that we need to reopen schools for the economy. What?

I won’t know what is expected of me until maybe the first week in August. The school I work in has twice as many students as the building is supposed to serve. It’s a fifty to sixty year old behemoth with no ventilation, crappy plumbing (the toilets exploded many times last year) and hallways so crowded that you’re often shoulder to shoulder moving during passing time. Will we have A/B days, weeks? Half days? Last year I had 128 students. How many will have I have this year?

And how will that number increase my risk of exposure? Being 50 with asthma makes me high risk for COVID. Besides the students, there are over 200 staff members. Are we going to contact trace each other?

How will I survive teaching all day with a mask on? Who will provide the mask? I have already bought thirty from Old Navy. But the thought of teaching in a 85 to 90 degree classroom in September with a mask on makes me gasp.

These are the thoughts that haunt me and normally I don’t think about school until August.

I’m afraid we are just in the beginning of this pandemic unless we can come together as a country and a world to deal with it. That seems so unlikely as we appear to live in a country that is either red or blue. Where’s the purple?

There’s an old saying that life is 10% what happens and 90% how you react. The problem for me is that I don’t deal well with uncertainty.

Guess I’d better learn how.

Namaste