Delta is rising and schools are reopening. For parents, it’s hard to know how to feel
This was supposed to feel celebratory. It should be a relief. But with the start of in-person school in Tacoma now less than two weeks away, the unavoidable truth for those with children is that the annual rite of passage will be neither of these things, no matter how much we might want it to be — and, for the record, I really wanted it to be.
That’s why this is so hard.
Like many parents, the last 18 months have been a slog of disappointment and survival, so much so that I freely admit that I might not be of sound state and mind. If adrenaline and novelty carried us through the initial school shutdown in March of 2020, then the best coping mechanism for last year was resigning yourself to low expectations while hoping for better days ahead. None of it was easy, and all of it took its toll.
So what will this year bring? That’s the big question, and the problem that — at least at this juncture, with the Delta variant running wild — is making preparing for the start of school next month so difficult. Logistically and emotionally, I have no idea what to brace for; no one does. Has the pandemic made us more comfortable with uncertainty? Perhaps. Does that make trying to navigate this new uncertain territory any easier? Absolutely not.
As a parent, my emotions run the gamut, and I suspect I’m not alone. Sometimes I’m conflicted. Sometimes I’m terrified. Often, I’m angry, particularly at those who still refuse to get vaccinated. I’m always tired.
But most of all, I’m worried. I’m worried about the health of kids, families and staff, and also about the very real possibility that we’re naively going through the back-to-school motions right now, only to watch everything fall apart again. It’s enough to make your head spin. And worse — given how difficult and traumatic the last 18 months have been — it’s enough to make you question your own judgment as a parent. In our house, we have three kids preparing to return to school, but only one is old enough to be vaccinated. Answers — and peace of mind — don’t come easily.
What’s a parent to do? Buy school supplies and keep your fingers crossed, I suppose. But it’s an approach that messes with your mind.
At my most optimistic — and, to be honest, my most exhausted — I agree that kids need to return to the classroom, and believe there are reasons to trust that Washington schools can do so with appropriate safety measures in place — such as mandatory masks and mandated vaccines for employees. That’s what the experts and the state officials whose news conferences have become must-watch TV have so far argued, and they have a point that’s hard to refute.
While some families were able to adapt to remote learning, many were not — for circumstances beyond their control. The risk of not trying is simply too high. The last year and a half has already pushed local families to the psychological and financial breaking point — mine included, at times — and a repeat performance of mass school closures would be devastating.
As Dr. Neha Nanda, medical director of infection prevention at Keck Medicine of USC, recently told The New York Times, “We learned that in person education is not something we can replace with virtual learning.”
It’s firsthand knowledge we acquired the hard way.
Still, it doesn’t make the early warning signs and cautionary tales from across the country any less troubling, or the current case spike in Pierce County any easier to ignore.
In Arizona and Texas, for instance — where the academic year has started — COVID outbreaks have already closed schools. And as the NYT also reported, “In one county in the Atlanta suburbs, more than 700 students and staff tested positive for the virus” in just the first two weeks of in-person learning. The list goes on, and even if the states experiencing the worst outcomes are often the same ones that have managed the pandemic with the most defiance and negligence, it’s hard not to feel like there’s writing on the wall. Throw in Pierce County’s current grim trajectory and low vaccination rate and, well, you get the picture.
Recently I was on Twitter, which — in retrospect — is not something I recommend. A friend with a new child took to the social media platform to say there was “zero” chance they’d be sending their kid to school this fall, if that was a decision they were forced to make. Luckily, it’s not.
I wish the situation was so easy and clear cut for everyone who was actually facing it, but I know that’s not the case. There’s the potential cost of childcare, the prospect of lost wages and the educational damage to factor in — just for starters.
Then there are the things that are much harder to quantify.
Since the last day of kindergarten in June — which was fittingly conducted remotely — our 6-year-old has been eagerly anticipating first grade, in person, with her classmates, teachers and friends. Her shiny new shoes are still in their box and her jeans don’t have grass stains yet. She’s too young to read the news, and too young to be vaccinated against a virus that too many adults have stubbornly refused to contain in the misguided name of personal freedom. The prospect of school potentially puts her health at risk, while the potential of another lost year risks her youthful spark and social-emotional well-being.
As her excitement builds, the sad reality is that it’s increasingly beginning to feel like the best possible outcome — an in-person school year largely uninterrupted by COVID-19 — might have been a mirage all along.
That hurts my heart, and all I can do is hope that I’m wrong.
This story was originally published August 27, 2021 at 6:00 AM.
