I was a guest on “Steve Novotney Lives” Friday, and a part of that segment was a discussion about COVID-19 and the upcoming school year. Here it is Sunday, and my mind still lingers on that conversation. Why? Because I’ve wanted few things in life as badly as I want a normal school year this time around. Even thinking about it puts a lump in my throat, to be completely honest, because last year tested and weakened every last ounce of our resilience.
The word “resilience” pops up in my life quite a bit. It’s given credit for pretty much being the only reason I’ve been able to keep moving forward according to most people. I tend to shy away from the word in that regard because I think it fails to acknowledge that resilience isn’t something you necessarily get to choose, and it’s not ever associated with comfort, in my opinion. Sometimes resilience isn’t really resilience at all, but, rather, a bulletproof survival instinct, with which I’m blessed. I tend to think of resilience in terms of how far my life can be twisted, pulled, or rearranged without breaking me to pieces; my ability to bounce back, if you will, like silly putty. But the school year last year pulled me so tight that you could see daylight through my resilience.
One of the biggest reasons I am aching for normalcy is the fact that my oldest is a senior this year. Along with grades on those upcoming college applications, this is her last year for her extras, such as marching band and chorus. These activities weren’t given the same considerations when the governor was rolling out rules and procedures. The marching season was almost nonexistent. Games ended at halftime for the kids rather than playing in the stands the whole game. It was depressing for band members and parents alike. We’re hoping that the season is long and uninterrupted this year. Band camp begins Monday and I’ve been whispering wishes into the wind all month.
My heart broke for seniors in 2020 and 2021. It just wasn’t fair, and that’s a word I’ve grown to rarely use because few things in life ever are. And while I’m wishing her a fantastic senior year, I’m wishing the same for my kid who’s a freshman. I want her to have a great first year. I wish for her the kind of freshman year that excites her about the next three. I want her to find her crew and find her space. I want those mean kids who have held her back to blend so far into the student body that she forgets they’re even there.
I didn’t know two months ago if any of us were going to come out of the year winning. We had extenuating circumstances at the beginning of the year, such as moving, that became hurdles we couldn’t get our legs over no matter how hard we tried. Mental health became a serious concern for the first time and too many of those “I’ll never worry about that in my family” things became real threats. We simply were not okay, and I pray that the work we’ve put in this summer to be okay again won’t be threatened.
Two months off doesn’t even sound- or feel- like enough time to fully rest and get our stars aligned before starting again (ours is shortened by band camp), in my opinion. I work all summer. The oldest worked all summer. The youngest was with family in the south for a month. We haven’t even had the chance to burn money on a vacation, although I’ve had that in mind and twirling in the background for the better part of a year. I dread the thought of my kids returning to school, especially with the escalating concerns with COVID-19.
Knowing that COVID-19 is a fluid situation, I wonder what guidelines will be put into place to address it, and, let’s be honest, don’t we all, on some level, want to know what to expect for the rest of the year? I am hopeful. I mean, I haven’t signed up for a crash course in 9th grade English- yet. I wish I had a crystal ball.
Meanwhile, members of the U.S. House adjourned for recess, leaving before they’ve passed some important legislation, such as an eviction moratorium. That might not sound like a big deal to you, but there are some big bills hanging in the balance. Some of us are relying heavily on the passage of some of this legislation and don’t even realize it. We need protection in case this year is a repeat of last. Summer recess isn’t a time of rest for a lot of us. In fact, sometimes it’s more time to worry.
Onward,
Amy Jo
