"Suck it up, buttercup."

When I started this blog, I wanted to focus on teaching. I wanted to focus on sharing resources and ideas, what has worked well for me, or new approaches that I wanted to try. I didn't want to write about teaching during a pandemic. I've chosen to write about it now, though, because it seems disingenuous not to. It feels like I'm leaving out part (a pretty significant part) of what teaching today is all about. And so, I want to share a few (hopefully not too controversial) thoughts.

Back in August, I posted my concerns about returning to school on Facebook. An acquaintance from my home town, who is a nurse, commented (I'm paraphrasing), "Suck it up, buttercup. If I have to go into work every day, so do you." I understand that she was probably speaking from a place of stress (I can't imagine being a nurse right now), but I also know her, and she has a very brazen personality. I was upset by the comment, but I also didn't see the logic in it. Shouldn't you want more people staying home, so there are fewer people getting the virus and potentially fewer people in the ICU?

Rather than replying, I did the somewhat cowardly thing: I deleted the post, and I deleted her as a Facebook friend. I don't need her negativity in my life, I thought. (I've always been a pretty non-confrontational person. I don't like ruffling feathers. I have my opinions--oh, Lord, that's the understatement of the century--but I don't like sharing them for fear of upsetting people.)

Fast forward a few months. The high school where I teach English has gone through hybrid learning, distance learning, and now hybrid learning again over the last few months. And now, the leadership committee (of which I'm a member) is discussing going back in full. I should have seen this coming. Plenty of other high schools in our area have gone back in full already or will be going back in person sooner than we plan to, and the community as a whole is pushing for "back to normalcy".

I understand the allure of normalcy. I miss seeing people. I miss going places. I understand many people have already returned to their pre-pandemic normal of seeing people and going places, but my family hasn't. My family has chosen to remain vigilant and cautious. I still "shower off the germs" before I embrace my daughter after I get home every day. I still hand sanitize between classes. I still diligently wear my mask (in school and at the grocery store--I literally don't go anywhere else).

At first, I was doing all of this out of concern for my pregnant wife. Now that our son is one month old, that is no longer a primary concern. Right now, I am concerned about my mom, who is "Grandma Nanny" for our daughter. Beyond that, I am anxious and paranoid about myself, simply because I am germophobic as it is and have a great fear of pandemics. I would probably survive if I were to contract the virus, but I also don't want to take that chance. I do not want to get sick.

All of these thoughts played through my head during our leadership and planning meetings, as I tried to push for us to at least delay going back in full, but the consensus among everyone else was to return to fully in-person one week sooner rather than one week later. Eventually, I stopped talking.

For the sake of getting some thoughts off my chest, here are some arguments that I heard and the responses that played through my head (which I did not voice out loud):
  • "Numbers in our county and in our school district are way down right now. We should get the students back in full while we still can." They're way down because we were just in distance learning from Thanksgiving through two weeks after Christmas break!
  • "We're not following X, Y, and Z guidelines, so why are we choosing to follow A, B, and C guidelines?" Okay, so since we are not following ALL the rules, we shouldn't follow ANY of them? Why isn't this the argument instead: We used to follow X, Y, and Z rules; why aren't we anymore? Shouldn't we keep following those rules for the safety of our staff and students?
  • "We need to get back to normal because all these guidelines and restrictions are taking a toll on students' and teachers' mental health." Ugh, this argument frustrates me. What about people like me who have pandemic-phobia and whose mental health is suffering out of this overwhelming anxiety that I am going to contract COVID-19 from someone because social distancing is going to be so difficult with everyone back in the building? The mental health argument works both ways.
Thankfully, I can see some light at the end of this tunnel. I'm getting the first dose of the vaccine today! I was hoping to get the second dose before all the students are back in the building, but no such luck there. I should consider myself lucky, though, that at least I'm getting the first dose today. I had a student argue with me earlier this week saying, essentially, that older people should come before teachers. Vaccines to the over-sixty-five crowd are, as I understand it, rolling out at the same time as teachers, but his argument seemed to be that the vaccine should be prioritized by age alone. I understand that the elderly are far more susceptible to more serious reactions to COVID, but I also understand that, if you're going to force me to teach in person (which we absolutely don't need to do), you had better offer me a vaccine.

I understand that I am being selfish throughout this blog post. Ultimately, though, I have come to the conclusion that now is the time to be selfish. I'm worried about myself. I'm worried about my family. Those are my priorities, as they should be. If I can't maintain social distancing in my classroom when we go back in full, then at the very least I intend to maintain distance between me and my students.

Ultimately, it's important to practice resilience no matter what happens, but when you tell people to "toughen up" or "suck it up", that's not the same thing. We ought to practice empathy far more than "toughness". Try to understand where people are coming from rather than just dismiss them.

If more people were more empathetic, we would live in a far better world.

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