Some Pandemic Coping Tips - Issue #14
Some Pandemic Coping Tips - Issue #14
(From Someone Who Hasn't Coped Particularly Well with the Pandemic)
Hello friends, welcome to Issue #14. This week, JB offers some humorous and helpful pandemic coping tips…definitely what you need to read on Friday at the end of another long week. And we also have a big “In case you missed it”—on Wednesday, Jason wrote up a suggestion for how Democrats might get Republicans on board with impeachment; this is particularly important as the case moves to the Senate for a trial. I think you’ll agree with one of our readers who wrote, “Am I the only one who thinks this would actually be the perfect out for Republicans?” Read Jason’s piece here.
One last thing before we dive in: in this new year, we’d really like to push a bit to increase our readership, so we’re asking if you, our readers, would be willing to share the newsletter widely. If each of you helped us bring in just one new reader, our subscription count would double (MATH!). Thanks, friends!
On a scale of one to ten, I’d say my current pandemic experience ranks in at a solid “not great.”
It hasn’t always been this way. There were times, especially in the warmer months, where I found myself living a pretty fabulous pandemic life, my mornings filled with writing, mountain bike rides almost every afternoon, shaking up martinis and firing up the grill for dinner...
Back in those days – they seem now like a distant dream – I was grateful for the forced stripping away of so much extraneous daily activity.
When my kids – a kindergartner and second-grader – were able to attend school in-person from September through November, the days were even sweeter still, even while they got a bit more regimented schedule-wise.
But the weather grew colder and the coronavirus charts grew more concerning, and finally we got word we’d have to return to remote learning from December 1 through mid-January at least.
It’s been pretty trying at times. It’s hard to describe, but when my kids are home I feel constantly unsettled.
During normal times, my kids go to school where they are taught by professional educators, engaged in healthy social and emotional development, and stimulated by fun activities and friendships. Meanwhile, I go to work and make very important money for my family doing work that I enjoy. We all come home after a productive day and if I then go on to make dinner for my family, which I often do, I feel like a gosh-darned Super Dad. This was the blueprint I was given for dadding, and it seemed to be working.
For the last six weeks, though, especially, no one seems to be where they’re “supposed” to be. And I think that’s the root of this unsettled feeling.
I realize that, for many of you on the East Coast, this experience has been a constant since last spring. And I can’t imagine how much more challenging it’s been for you.
That being said, my current approach to remote learning is a lot like my approach to the TSA.
Sometime before I finally sprung for pre-check, but after they started requiring shoe, jacket, belt, and laptop removal, I made a mindset shift: I started to view Airport Security less as something I needed to do and more as something that was happening to me.
To view it more as a test of endurance rather than my own competence or efficiency has allowed me to approach the TSA with an uncharacteristically Zen mindset; one that admittedly can frustrate my wife as I refuse to participate in the general pandemonium that surrounds us.
Ultimately, I know that I have no weapons or illicit substances in my possession, so whatever happens in this process is, in the long run, going to be more the TSA’s problem than mine. Send me back through, search my bag, pat me down, take me in the room for questioning… Eventually, you’ll have to realize that this is a waste of your own time, and you’ll send me on my way.
A couple of important side notes here. 1. For this mentality to work, you have to show up EARLY. Generally, I’d rather be a little bored for an hour on the other side of security than extremely stressed for an hour on the front end. 2. While I don’t want to unpack this here, I would like to acknowledge that my assumption that I will eventually be adjudged a non-threat and returned safely to my family is probably one of many White Privileges I enjoy.
Anyway, this is also the way I cope with remote learning.
Today one of my daughters had her Assessment Test, which seems intended to determine how this period of at-home schooling has affected student progress broadly. I don’t know what kind of assessment a child sobbing on the floor of her room refusing to take the test generally receives, but we’re about to find out.
Seeing my kids set up at the kitchen table with their Chromebooks and their little headphones and pencil kits is simultaneously adorable and heartbreaking. I see them thrive with in-person learning. And I see them stagnate and struggle at home. I don’t feel equipped to solve it. I just want them to be back where they are supposed to be, so I can feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be.
But ultimately, I take some comfort in knowing that every student and every family is facing the same daunting challenge. I’m envious of those who seem to be handling it better, and I’m worried for those who seem to be struggling even more than we are.
In the end, I don’t have any control over when or how we go back to school. As with the TSA, we just have to endure the inconvenience and indignity for a time, and eventually, it will be over. Thankfully, we’re at the airport early, and we’ve still got plenty of time to get to our flight (i.e. college or some other form of adult non-failure).
Watch a couple of Ted Talks or listen to a couple of podcasts and you’ll find stories from amazing people who endured all kinds of traumas and challenges as children. People whose families spent years in refugee camps. People who spent their teens in juvenile detention centers. People who’ve overcome unstable home lives, poverty, and myriad other challenges. They’ve gone on to achieve great things in spite of – or in some cases because of – these trying experiences.
My kids are not thriving right now. But being distraught about whether my kids are “thriving” is a pretty privileged position to be in in the first place.
Sometimes it’s the painful experiences that really shape us. And while our impulse as parents is naturally to try and shield our kids from pain, I am holding out hope that enduring this trying time together will ultimately strengthen us and our relationships.
What We’re Listening To:
Jason: I recently became aware of a 90s hip-hop MC called Shortie No Mass. I had never heard of her before, but her EP Like This came up in my suggested tracks and the beats and rhymes are, as I put it to my wife, totally sick. I got a bit of teasing for that. But I stand by it.
CW: Potentially offensive language
JB: Old Rage Against the Machine and Public Enemy. Pretty much incessantly. I’ve come back to these two groups to help me through trying times for nigh on a quarter-century. Their aggression envelops me like a favorite old blanket. While you might think they’d stoke the outrage I mentioned in last week’s piece (which I’m trying to moderate), they seem to act as more of a release valve for my anger, frustration, and anxieties. I put together this little playlist for myself of all my favorite Rage tracks, and I’m happy to share it with you here, should you need it. I’ll work on one for Public Enemy too.
Fitz: Common! My buddy Dave reminded me that there’s a new Common album out. I’ve been a fan since back when the rapper went by Common Sense (before some band sued him and he had to change it to Common). But seriously, he’s one of the greatest…even if his output isn’t consistent. I’m still digging into this latest record. It’s nowhere near his best (he seems to have settled on a formula), but it’s a good reminder of why I’ve loved his music for so long. As a matter of fact, I’m probably going to go back and listen to Like Water for Chocolate now.
What We’re Reading:
Jason: I’ve been reviewing a bunch of recent articles to try and curate a more contemporary, urgent, 2020-centric reading list for my writing class that starts next week. Unsurprisingly, one of the most affecting pieces I chose is from the end of summer, written by Ibram X. Kendi: “Is This the Beginning of the End of American Racism?”
Also, I’m going to introduce a “What I’m Watching” entry: Lovecraft Country on HBO Max is a stunning series—aesthetically beautiful, full of cleverly-modulated horror tropes, and driven by a persistent dissection of historical injustice. I couldn’t more highly recommend it.
Fitz: I’m working on an article about chaplains right now (not going to say more at this time), but as part of that, I’ve been talking with Brandeis professor Wendy Cadge (who is an expert on all things chaplaincy) and reading her book Paging God: Religion in the Halls of Medicine. It’s super readable (especially for an academic book) and really interesting.
Thank you, as always, for reading.