Months ago, when COVID-19 was still a whisper, I was photographed by the Huntsman Cancer Institute about my face masking. The photograph was one, the questions many. Do face masks “work”? How can working in one affect your health? What’s your advice for those just getting tested?
Nine months later, the pandemic roars. Our nation’s priorities have been thrown into a sack, shaken, spilled onto the floor. Tried-and-true expert strategies are hardly applicable, let alone sustainable. How do we move forward now that our methods of wellness – daily yoga, weights at the gym – are deemed unwell? When our social infrastructures – Sunday morning brunch, concerts in the park – dissolve? How should we proceed when our indoctrinated school system – a teacher stands and speaks, a group of children sit and listen – is now disputed for safety, efficacy?
I have few answers, but I know the importance of the question. It is no longer: What is happening? It is only: What happens now?
The reality is this: we have been handed a year of turmoil. Norms are toppling, status quos are being called to question.
What happens now?
What will happen is this: your entire family will tilt toward discovery. When I was home-schooled we would spend less time fretting over kid’s school schedules and more time igniting wonder in our childhood souls. My mom educated us in the way that worked for generations prior: one of apprenticeship, of practice, of trade. Her children gained independence. We made our own lunch. We washed our own socks.
(Yes, even the littles.)
Her children learned from her.
My mom learned from her children.
She would invite us kids into her daily life, whether through accounting spreadsheets or blueprint renderings or sautéed garlic.
Yes, she still had time to herself. Yes, her kids still had the basics covered one way or another. Yes, her children did take ownership over their own education with a few hours/day and a library card.
Yes, it can feel tricky with littles.
No, it is not feasible for everyone, logistically-speaking. Neither is remote learning, or business-as-usual, or co-ops, or pandemic pods.
But it’s an option for some, nonetheless. And it’s one worth considering.
—
And she did, perhaps, get what she wanted all along: a child that begins to value Shakespeare over taco day, achievement over athleticism. She got the choice to switch out Laura Ingalls Wilder for L.M. Montgomery. She could ban Dr. Seuss; she vetoed letter grades. Tossed the uniform, and the uniformity. She educated as an act of resistance, and she raised children to think critically about their role as an advocate for the world around them.
—
And she did, perhaps, get what she wanted all along: a child that begins to value Shakespeare over taco day, achievement over athleticism. She got the choice to switch out Laura Ingalls Wilder for L.M. Montgomery. She could ban Dr. Seuss; she vetoed letter grades. Tossed the uniform, and the uniformity. She educated as an act of resistance, and she raised children to think critically about their role as an advocate for the world around them.
If goodwill is hard to find, if our kids feel lonely and unsafe and ill-equipped, perhaps it’s time to offer them a gap in the war.
What happens now?
It’s up to us.
