It’s been 120 days since our children were sent home to be schooled and we shut our doors to the public. It seems like a lifetime.
As the coronavirus continues to ravage unabated across the U.S., society continues to be pummeled by its aftereffects. Unemployment remains at an all-time high; entire sectors of the economy devastated – small business owners, hospitality, retail, in particular, pushed beyond their limits. Now, with a new school year on the horizon, administrators, parents, teachers and students are being forced to contend with the fact that attending in-person school is still a dangerous proposition. Knowing that our children’s education and social growth is being stunted because we live in a country that cannot get its act together – we have become a collection of factions, rather an a unified body – is both infuriating and defeating. Today, when I thought about my children’s first year of college and the experience at least one of them will miss out on, I wanted to cry.
This should be the time they break free and venture out on their own, in relative safety. But, no, that is not to be. And although the schools are doing their best to stay abreast of new developments and conflicting guidelines, the communication to parents and students is haphazard at best. We all remain in a state of arrested development.
From a personal perspective, as happy as I am that I do not commute to work anymore – whether it be the 500 miles a week to South Jersey or the 2+ hours a day on trains – I miss being around other people beside my immediate family. Video is a poor substitute, although better than nothing. I am envious of the people who have another place to go to during the work day. Things to complain about, observe and react to. I’m feeling a bit maudlin today. It’s so unlike me – I am normally all sunshine and flowers – and today, I feel constricted and confined. The ever-depressing news weighs on me like a leaded vest. I feel a complete lack of momentum, as if we are in a perpetual holding pattern with no exit ramps. And terrible things continue to happen, as if someone just unlocked the doors for all that is evil, degrading and foul, and threw them wide, inviting in all manner of horrors to be inflicted on the weary and defenseless. Is humanity ready for a re-set? Must we endure this horrific reality show much longer? How many more lessons must we learn? I presume that in our current state of never-ending rage, it is natural to feel exhausted, depressed and helpless. And guilty. For all the things we aren’t strong enough to do or powerful enough to combat.
I’ve begun re-reading the hard-backed novels I collected in the early 90’s, when I was a member of the Book-of-the-Month club. I needed to be in a Book-of-the-Day club, how quickly I read them. I’m on the third of my ancient collection – and enough time has gone by that my memory of the plot lines are fuzzy at best. Trying to keep my brain occupied with something other than the social media and news rot while ensuring the cells don’t atrophy – and stave off the sadness that is inevitable as a result of the news cycle. It’s summer, after all, and shouldn’t we be reading in the twilight? Can’t read at the beach this year., may as well camp out on the porch in the fading light of evening and become engrossed in someone else’s story.
How much longer will we be subjected to the indignities of our farce of a federal government? How much longer will we be enduring endless evil deeds visited upon our most at risk, our most vulnerable? How much longer do we have until we can restore dignity and grace? Will we have the strength and power to do it when it is time? I pray so.