Even those least affected by COVID-19 and the ripple effect of its presence will be forever changed. It is understandable to desire a return to “normal.” It is human to look back on the past with a sense of clouded nostalgia, remembering things as we want to remember them, not as they actually were. But before we jump into a return to the way things were, we should take a moment to imagine the way things could be.
I sat in an airport in Costa Rica with a crew of teenagers, preparing to return home to Houston after […]
2021 is going to include a lot less airplane travel, time zone changes, extra-large suitcases, or language translation, but I think it will be quite an adventure nonetheless. And if it doesn’t include packing up a home over Facetime or leaving people we care about without so much as a goodbye, I’m ok with a little bit quieter year.
I have no idea what this coming school year holds. I don’t know how long I will be teaching in person, if or when we will be forced online, and I don’t know what school is going to look like for my own kids. I’m scared and apprehensive and exhausted and hopeful all at the same time.
COVID-19 didn’t break us, it showed us what was broken. We were so busy pretending that everything was ok and that we loved the rat race that we didn’t stop to consider what it was doing to our bodies and souls. And then everything stopped and suddenly we had to slow down and face the boredom that we’ve desperately avoided our entire lives.
I’m beginning to wonder if one of the reasons some people are struggling and insisting on a return to “normal” is because they didn’t allow themselves the space to grieve the loss of normal before accepting that loss and moving on to see it as a way to grow. We need to allow ourselves to grieve that loss. We need to give people the grace and space to grieve the things that have disappeared, some of them permanently. And then we need to start looking for the places where we see potential for a better future moving forward.