2 Weeks...And A Year Later
This week my daughter went to school for 5 days straight. For the first time, since this time last year.
It was supposed to be for 2 weeks remember? 14 days? Flatten the curve?
For the past 11 months, 49 weeks, 343 days and an ungodly amount of hours my 5-year-old daughter has been living damn near inside my skin. Or with her face deep in her iPad. Her little body, full of anxiety. When the virus came. When the world shut down.
She’s improved significantly, don’t get me wrong. She goes to school for instance, and her learning pod, to gymnastics team practice and her godparents house. However, more times than not she throws a fit about leaving the house and it gets pretty intense.
This week my daughter went to school for 5 days straight. For the first time, since this time last year. After today’s more drama-filled than usual meltdown about going to gymnastics, something occurred to me. Where was her transition? Where is OUR transition? I flipped a switch on her and she wasn’t ready. I pushed her into the social and energy demands without giving her the space to process what had been, what is and what will be. In her unknowing child wisdom, she checked me hard. “Mama, I just want to be home. I’m used to being home. I want to be with my things and with you.”
We are all doing this foolishness. Listen to the news. Scroll social media. Listen to talk radio...
“We have to get back to normal.”
“We have to re-open.”
“We have to get things back to the way they were.”
“The kids have to get back to school.”
“Everyone needs to get back to work for the economy.”
We are so focused on getting our lives back, that we aren’t taking true stock of what our life has been over the past year. Here’s the thing...from one year to the next, we are never the exact same person. Even more so, in the COVID context… I don’t care who you are, in March 2021 you are NOT the same person you were in March 2020. Not even close. You have been forever inexplicably changed down to your very core fibers. We have all been rocked in a way we never could have imagined.
The whole damn earth has experienced collective and individual trauma and somehow we are supposed to flip a switch and walk out into the world like it never happened. Think about that? The fucking world shut down! Outside was deadly. We were at war with an invisible enemy. AIR WAS NOT SAFE.
Of course, my daughter was afraid to play outside. Of course, she was afraid for me to go to the store. Of course, she was apprehensive of getting on the highway. Absolutely the thought of going back to school was terrifying for her. Home was the only safe place. School was so hazardous, it closed, for almost a year!
“Is coronavirus over? How do we know it’s safe Mama?”
Fuck if I know! I’m walking in faith. I’m putting on my smile for her. I’m telling my fellow educators that our union is doing the best negotiating we can to make sure that school isn’t hazardous for them; that the air IS safe for the grownups and the kids. I can only pray that I’m not giving false hope.
What I know for sure, is that our children are not ok right now. Our children are scarred. They miss their friends. They miss living a care-free children’s life. Our babies miss their routines and structure. They miss sunlight. They miss childhood adventure. They are anxious. They are depressed. Yet somehow the idiots in politics and educational leadership are getting ready to push kids back to school, test them ad nauseam and pound them with academics. God forbid, they “fall behind” our artificial educational benchmarks. The children of America don’t need to be tested to show that they have lost academic ground. We already know the likelihood of that. The children of America need their pediatricians and social workers, psychologists, religious leaders, teachers and parents to stand up and scream “WE NEED OUR CHILDREN TO HEAL”. This is the most important thing we can do for the future health of our kids. If we don’t give them the space and skills to heal from this trauma, we will lose this generation forever. The academics will come, but you have to prepare the vessel. Children will not be able to absorb even the most diligently delivered curriculum if they are in this heightened state of anxiety.
In the meantime, all I can do is work on healing my baby girl. Here are my tips for helping a child manage their anxiety as the world re-opens.
I have to respond to her emotional distress. If she asks me for 50 hugs a day, I need to give her 51.
I need to reassure her that she’s safe.
I tell her exactly what’s going to happen throughout the day, so she knows what to expect.
I help her name her feelings. I let her know that it’s ok to feel nervous and unsure.
I give her time to veg out and watch her favorite shows.
I tell her it’s important to start doing things that she loves outside of the house, a little bit at a time.
I remind her of the things she can control to stay safe: wear her mask, wash her hands, keep her distance
I encourage her to FaceTime with her friends and cousins to maintain relationships
I plan for the future with her. We talk about playdates and vacations that we will have soon
I can’t wait to hear children laughing and see them playing again. Close your eyes for a minute and imagine. Doesn’t that feel good? Until then, I’ll be sending you and the children you love, positive vibes.
