It’s been a long year…

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So here we are: December 2020. The holidays are here, and it feels quite a bit like Easter did. NJ had over 5000 new Covid cases today. The death rate has dropped to 21. And the rate of transmission is back to 1. Vaccines are here.

But what does this mean? Last week at a meeting for work, someone said that no one expected the pandemic to last this long. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Haven’t you checked out the Spanish Flu?” But I bit my tongue. I had already said too much about having to make the choice between my health and my family’s financial wealth. This pandemic isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Which may be why I started seeing notifications that more people had been reading this blog, specifically the first 40 days of Covid 19 in NJ. So here I am again. Month 10.

I am high risk for negative Covid outcomes, according to my GP. This is somewhat ironic as I have been the only family member leaving the house with any regularity. While I was provided a few accommodations at work, getting up and getting there has been especially stressful. Now, don’t get me wrong, I loved seeing my colleagues from six-feet afar. But watching students gather in the hallway, or seeing some colleagues alone in their rooms without masks made me twitch. The stress of going in to teach most of my classes, then running home, changing and showering before teaching my last was exhausting. Worse, I was compelled to check our Covid numbers with such regularity that they only increased my stress levels. There is nothing normal about this school year.

Perhaps the most damaging message is that our children are being left behind. Left behind from who? The wealthiest of us who can afford to hire a retired teacher as a private tutor? Perhaps. But our kids’ mental health should be worth much more than an SAT score. As I said, there is nothing normal about this school year.

When we are stressed, cortisol enters our brain. Then we have challenges recalling and acquiring new information. The same goes with kids. You may want your teachers to shove curriculum down children’s throats, but that isn’t as beneficial as giving your kid a hug.

Now I get to hug my son daily. I am thrilled to teach from home. And I hope to be in a classroom with my students some day…when it is safe for all of us.

I chose this picture, which I took in early Fall. The rocks’ reflection in the water teases the eye towards the waterfall. Reflections are funny that way. How will we reflect upon this year? Covid has provided a time for reflection.

We will be alone for the holidays, for the first time in my 50 years. But I will be safer than if my family chose to gather, which they haven’t. I cry for my 101 year-old grandmother who remains stuck in her little box at an assisted living facility. I pray for the chance to sit with her again at lunch. I pray the sadness she has doesn’t drag her too far down. She is living in hell.

But this is 2020. Events feel as disjointed as this blog post.

Be well, friends. Be safe.

J.Monell