A Change Would do You Good

Last week was Mother's Day, and I didn't have a blog post together. 

I thought Hey, it's my day, I'm going to enjoy being a mom and just relax. True, but also a helpful excuse, as the previous week I wrote about being a woman in the church, and honestly...with the feedback that was coming in daily, there was a lot to process. IS a lot to process.

Part 1 of the Woman in Church thing was really just a peeling back of the lid, and now I want to be careful in examining the contents. Is it a can of worms, or a bowl of cherries? I've got a lot of thoughts. So there will be a part 2 on being a woman in church, but not today.

Today I want to explore current events a little more. What is going on in our daily realities? Me, I do a lot of walking, I work, I have meetings. I make meals and do a pile of dishes (our dishwasher has been broken since January. Please start a Go Fund Me.) I plead with my son to do some school work. I have wonderful long talks with my daughter. I drink coffee in the afternoons and look at trucks for sale with my husband on his phone. I give disgusted looks to the cat, and everyone thinks I don't like the cat. Then I feel bad, and tell the family that blessed cat would surely be dead if I didn't give her food and water and look after her basic needs! Hmph.

How has Life Changed for you? 

Every week the government and thus the media have a different take, new conflicting data, a better mantra for what we Absolutely Must Do.
For those strong, independent, pioneering personalities, this is akin to a straight-up challenge. And thus we see a lot of hard questioning, protests, and even a few conspiracy theories. These are the people who shout "Have fun!" as you drive away.
They don't want to collect CERB because it comes from the bloody government (not to mention it is plunging our nation into 100 years of crippling debt).
We need these people, and I value their opinions. We need them to balance out the others.

On the other side, there are those who tend to trust institutions, want to follow the rules, and get pretty mad at those who do not. And for good reason, sometimes. These people tend toward being anxious, enjoy routine, and live carefully and thoughtfully. When you are driving away from their house, they say "Stay safe!"
They are perfectly fine with collecting CERB  because they need it, and deserve it for the hard work they had been doing. Besides, it's kind of nice to stay home.

There are quite a few of us in the middle who are waffling between hard eye rolls and holding our heads in our hands, or twiddling our thumbs and banging our heads against the wall.

This hasn't been fun for anybody.
And if it has been fun for you, well, it's time to take a good hard look at your life. Perhaps a change would do you, or me, some good.

Pros and Cons

The pros and cons of our present situation have come up frequently in conversations over the last few weeks. On the one hand, a friend may say they are not working and feeling stress about their job, but on the other hand they are happy to be spending so much time with their kids. 

On one hand, it would be really nice to get away for the weekend, but on the other hand, we are saving on gas and giving the vehicle a break, maybe getting some yard work done. 

There are pros to not getting dressed up every day, spending evenings with family, or having time to read. (I read an actual book for fun yesterday, and it has been at least several months, if not a year, since that happened! I even stayed up unhealthily late so I could finish the whole thing, and felt almost giddy in my insurrection!)

Some are getting more exercise than ever, or have learned a new hobby, or just feel more connected to their loved ones. 

On the other hand, there is nothing positive about losing the ability to pay your mortgage, spending a milestone birthday at home without a celebration, or worrying about an elderly parent living alone. 

Nothing fun about selling your truck because there is no money for payments, or watching your restaurant inventory slowly spoil at the same time as your life's dream is dying. Or having severe anxiety and being afraid to go anywhere or do anything because covid is out there, lurking. 

There will be many, many stories that come out of this time. 

Stories that are being written right now in the hearts and minds of people all over the world. 

Love stories that never would have happened. 

Reconciliations between husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, long lost friends. Fathers and mothers who may often be away are getting to know their children, and that is beautiful and so needed. 

New discoveries made, creative ideas explored. 

And sadly, there is abuse and neglect going on as children are trapped in destructive homes, or people are stuck behind doors with a cruel, narcissistic partner, someone who just loves this new level of control. I am sincerely worried about these situations. I pray that if anyone is living this, they will get the help they need. Reach out; don't take one more day of abuse. 

Stories of struggle, of loss, of need, and of hope are being lived out as you read this. 

What is yours?

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the realm of the dead, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom. 

I have seen something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all.  

Moreover, no one knows when their hour will come: As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so people are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them. 

Ecclesiastes 9:10-12

Should we go back to the way it was?

I am imagining a scene, in which a tired teacher gets ready for school in August. He or she has been thinking of retiring for years, but it was never the right time. Have the last months created a desire to go back into the classroom as soon as possible, to treasure the smiles, to cherish the little teachable moments, the stickers, the schedules, even recess supervision? Or does the teacher suddenly feel too weary to do it all again?

I imagine a tableau in a kitchen, where a father is leaving early again for work. It has been 5 months since he performed this morning ritual, coffee in hand, briefcase, keys. The lonely commute, the family life all but lived when he arrives back late after the sun's already set. He pauses, opens the door of his little son's bedroom, and thinks of all the hours they spent - reading stories, wrestling, his boy following him closely around the yard, asking all the questions he hadn't had a chance to ask before. He is thoughtful. Somehow, he can't rejoice, though he knows he must go. Will they ever be so close again? He will fight for it. 

I'm thinking of a couple who never took that trip, because there was always something. And now they are in their twilight years, feeling it all the more as the fear of the pandemic robs them of joy and strength. They couldn't go now if they wanted to. And then one day, the planes are flying again. They turn to each other and book the trip, laughing and clapping their hands. It wasn't too late, thank God, it wasn't too late to go. 

I see an elderly woman in a care home. She sits in her green rocker, a magazine idle in her aged hands. The pandemic is over now, but she is used to being alone. No one has come to visit for over two years, or is it three? She can't be sure. But they are coming today. All of them! Even the great-grandchildren. And her daughter said, last time through a catch in her voice on the phone, that she should schedule it in, because they would be all taking turns every Sunday. She smiles and it lights up the corners of her faded blue eyes. 

How will lives be changed? 

I think in some ways we will go back to normal faster than anyone predicted possible. In other ways, life will be changed forever. Some things will change, but we won't realize it until later...maybe even years from now. 

Someone will ask, so how did you two meet? 

And they will turn to each other, and laugh, and say "It was the pandemic of 2020. We were both stuck in an airport, trying to get home. And we ended up talking, I gave her my number, and now here we are."

Someone else might ask, so how did you become a musician? 

"Remember the pandemic of 2020? I lost my furnace cleaning business, and ended up sitting at home with my guitar for weeks on end. That was quite a time. Now, I've got a band and here we are!"

"Wow, that's a story! Um, please, could you sign my album cover?"

Another may query, so why are you going back to school?

"Well, it was the 2020 pandemic. I looked around at my life, realized I truly hated what I was doing, and resolved to start again. I finally had the time to think and take a hard look at reality. So here I am, going for my Masters, at long last."

I could go on endlessly, as all kinds of situations and perspectives come to mind. As many as there are humans alive on earth. 

Whether the tale is a bad one or a good one, we are all living in it. I hope yours is turning out alright. Mine might be little frayed, a little at the end of the proverbial rope, but I am trying to redeem the time. 

Who, I wonder, will tell our stories? Perhaps we all should be writing things down. 

The Pandemic Letters

(With apologies to C.S. Lewis)

  My Dear Wormwood,

It pains me to hear of your follies in using this pandemic to its potential. You seem almost puffed up by the anxieties, deaths, and outright agonies of the people you are working to guide toward Our Father Below. Surely you have not forgotten already the careful lessons we poured over and drilled into your insect-like skull?
You grin about the deaths in hospitals and nursing homes (rather few, percentage-wise) as if these are somehow advancing our great cause! Far be it! Some of these belong to the Enemy, and I can almost hear the rejoicing as they walk through the awful gates! My ears bleed with it.

As well, can you not comprehend how they start to think about what is to come, and with gravity of soul and mind some begin to think...stay with me now... of preparation. Preparing for an afterlife. Considering what may come next! This is the worst possible news. We have worked for centuries to get their minds off of death, and onto frivolities, selfish habits or stoic musings- even daily we throw program after program at this very cause. And so when I hear your gleeful wringing of hands in regards to death, my dear Wormwood, I fear you have strayed far from the path. These gravitous thoughts the wretched humans are having will undoubtedly cause us to lose souls. Some that we have worked many years to steer in our direction may raise their ugly heads to the heavens. It should cause you pain, not this smiling like a stupid creature!
I'm not shocked Wormwood, merely disappointed in your oversight, as I would be in a cockroach that did not see the heeled boot descending. But you are inexperienced in the finer nuances of destruction.

Now to the other. I do not doubt that their economic system crashing gives you false confidence. Here too, there is something regarding human nature you must try, in your small way, to let enter the struggling synapses of your brain.

There is, what they call upstairs, a thing called Supply and Demand. Granted there is a great disruption at the moment, large stockpiles of rotting supply (I confess to craving the scent of it) and an inability to demand, and much frustration, loss, deprivation, and hence excitement among those of us Below. At surface this is wonderful to behold. However, the same demand will still be there that ever was, and thus the supply will rise to fill it. And on and on. A few hiccups, perhaps, a grinding of the gears, but move it must. And then all of the crashing will be for naught. It will not serve us for long. In the meantime, you waste our time and anger the Senior devils with your meandering idiocy. Get busy! Precious time passes, to throw the horror in their faces, to create desperation, crippling anxieties, and the inevitable sweet victory as some edge toward the cliff, unable to carry on! These are the moments, Wormwood, you will carry with you forever. Well, as long as I allow you to survive, I should warn. Do not take a moment of depression for granted. These are indeed perilous times. Some are using their pain to draw closer (shudder) to the Enemy. He loves them, strangely enough. This is a concept our Senior officials have prodded and studied for millennia, to no avail. There is nothing we can do about it. He will protect, cherish and provide for His rats, sometimes snatching them out of our very jaws.
(Excuse my salivatings on the page. You understand.)

You cannot imagine, Wormwood, how I ground my mandibles when you wrote of your latest failure. You thought that keeping them apart was something to celebrate. No! Not at all! Several extra-marital affairs I had been personally overseeing have ground to a halt. All lost. The bile rises when I think of the years I spent, creating small problems, causing little jealousies and innocent glances, and then seeing all the careful planning and depravity wasted.
And the gathering of the Enemies flock, interrupted! As if this "social distancing" was in our favour! Now they are missing their disgusting little times together, thinking of others, checking in on their neighbors. Nothing could be worse! We had lulled them, gently, cautiously, into a deep sleep. Now the "saints", as they nauseatingly call themselves, have awakened! The petty quarrels and insults we toiled over for years - forgotten. Even worse, forgiven. How I detest the word.
And still, the grating noise of what is known as "Worship" resounds across their devices and in their homes (we are forbidden to say the word, and so we simply refer to "That Screech Upstairs"). It is worse than the pitter and patter of birds in Spring, more horrible than the laughter of children. It cracks upon my eardrum and bends my very fangs inward! I've had to retreat from Upstairs and recover an entire week down Below.

This virus, the "pandemic" as they ridiculously and snivelingly call it, what I once thought a glorious idea, has brought them together in ways we could not foresee.
(You mustn't let a vile droplet of that last sentence reach Our Father Below. In fact, I may be forced to make sure you do not.)

And lastly, my dear, delicious Wormwood, the icing on a fly-ridden cake. At our last meeting of Senior devils, it was revealed. The cries of these stinking humans, old and young, rich and poor, light and dark, have reached the ears of the Enemy. He is mobilizing to send aid. Rumours are even oozing from above saying He heard them from the start. It is crass, obviously, but probably true. I've been crawling the dirt for several eons now and I've seen it before. They call it a Rescue, an Ever Present Help or something disturbing of that kind. How sadly inane.


   The point is that I'm afraid our time is growing short. What you so naively lauded as an opportunity of the ages for ferrying souls Below has turned into a battle in which we are taking heavy losses. They come at us from all sides. Many of our best and most promising charges have been turned back, and there is a steady hemorrhage of souls walking up to that dreaded piece of Wood and depositing their burdens there. A thunder of applause from Above is growing, causing fear and alarm among all rank and file of my colleagues, though of course I am steady in my ancient filth, ripe always with hope and deception. Never fear on my account.

His minions grow bolder, calling on the name of our Enemy daily. The time grows short.
And so, Wormwood, we must fight with all the rampant evil we can muster.
Set sibling against sibling, father against mother, nation against nation. Stir up the hate that lurks in families, and make them so sick of each other that little fights and snarls break out and crack the foundations.

Cause neighbors to tell tales on neighbors, and let them think their little laws are what matters. Fan the flames of insidious conversations about the constitution and government, creating bonfires of mistrust. Use the media, as I have repeatedly instructed you, to pour fuel on these bonfires until they blaze up and destroy anything around them. Whisper suspicions to the humankind as they pass each other on the street, and fill their heads with thoughts of how lazy or entitled others must be, while they suffer, oh so much more! Victims must be reminded often of their new state of victimhood, and bring up regularly how easy others must have it. Either they don't care enough about the sick, or they care too much. Polarization is almost too easy at the moment - seize the day! For those who are beset with laziness, let them wallow in it and germinate that self-hatred that ever does so much for our purposes. Confusion is key; when in doubt, cause chaos and misunderstanding at every turn. As yet there is no cure; maybe we can still turn fear into something that leaves an indelible mark on their pitiful hearts. As the cherry on top of the eternal Feast of death, we strive for their lives to be meaningless and empty, plagued by fears on every side.

Ah Wormwood! The possibilities are endless! I almost forget how short the time grows. Our days are numbered, however... yours perhaps more than mine. That particular delicacy we will discuss soon.

Until then.


Yours Ever so Sincerely,


Uncle Screwtape

The Tipping Point

The Fine Line...how long until we cross it?

As the saying goes, there's a fine line between _____ and _____.

You pick. Safety and control. Freedom and oppression. Genius and insanity, right and wrong. Staying well and losing our grip on reality.
When will we cross that fine line, when Enough simply becomes Too Much?

During this coronavirus lockdown, one of my only excursions is a long walk down an empty road. I hope that's allowed. It may not be. 

And while I walk, I tend to think, like Winnie-the-Pooh in his honey tree. Think, think, think. 

What I have been wondering lately is how long people will obey, stay home, not see family or friends, not even a sick mother or father, not take care of things that may be incredibly important to them. How long will the citizens obey? 

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not one of the naysayers; I do not delve into conspiracy theories or entertain insidious ideas about where the virus came from and what will become of humanity. 

I tend towards introversion, and never run out of ways to fill an hour. In fact I've barely watched Netflix yet....I'm saving that for when I am out of ideas. Or maybe I'm too distracted to focus on anything for more than 20 minutes - that might be it! 

So I should be okay for awhile. I'm not losing my mind, not yet. 

Usually, on the Saturday of Easter weekend, I'm waking up at either my in-law's or my parent's house. Or family is staying at my place and I'm in the middle of creating or cleaning up an enormous waffle, ice cream and strawberries breakfast, picking at bits of bacon left in the pan, thinking about the calories I may accrue with the ham or turkey dinner coming tomorrow and wondering if I'm too old to buy a chocolate Easter bunny, or if anyone will notice if I take a handful of mini-eggs out to the patio just now, with my coffee. 

The fine line is that narrow place where something changes into something else, where the balance shifts. 

I sense a tension and restlessness in the air, growing like the signs of Spring among the resigned stoicism and meek compliance of Canadians, obedient to what has been asked of us. We are responsible, we will hold up our end of the bargain. We understand that our staying home helps others, and is a good example to those who might be on the edge of making different decisions. The vulnerable must be protected, the sick cared for, and the carers lauded and kept safe. Yes, we understand.

But at what point does people's mental health take precedence over their physical health? I think of many elderly people, lonely at home, their primary source of joy in grandchildren or family visits taken away. I think of families who know they have limited time left with loved ones, and see the sand swiftly flowing out of the hourglass. 

Young people whose entire life is wrapped up in their friends, feeling depressed and desperate as time freezes but their inner world continues. People whose love language is physical touch not being hugged for weeks or months.  Or even the cumulative apprehension and mild boredom of the general population.

At some point that thin line will be crossed, and acceptance will tip, like a balance scale, into resistance. 

It is like when a mouse, or a large ugly spider, or even a more dangerous pest like a scorpion is discovered in a room. Perhaps the homeowner jumps up on a chair, or retreats to the bed or the far corner. They stay still - watching and waiting, at the ready! Adrenaline races and the fight or flight impulse ensures survival. Eventually, as time passes, the frozen muscles relax, and the person begins to think about moving around a bit, even getting rid of the pest. Perhaps it isn't all that dangerous. Maybe they can kill it with a shoe, or tiptoe out and get the farm cat (in the case of the mouse). At any rate, they aren't going to stay forever perched on the edge of a desk awaiting their fate. No. Other options will be weighed.

The lockdown situation is far easier for those living in rural areas. They might not even notice the pinch. They have fields to go out in, maybe atv's to drive or long stretches of gravel road to wander. Someone in an apartment building who cannot even go into their hallway or elevator without feeling compromised is having a much different experience. My heart goes out to those in crowded places, whose anxiety must be overwhelming. 

I could be totally wrong about this, but I think within the next two weeks we will start to see a push back from people. They can't arrest us all, that's for sure. We all have common sense and know how to stay away from others, so it isn't like we are going to link arms en masse in the street and sing Kumbaya or clamour for malls to open. We have to give people some credit for having common sense. There is a strong independence and pioneer spirit among Canadians, as well as politeness and respect. 

At some point the fine line between inertia and restlessness, fear and risk, compliance and curiosity will blur and become harder to see. I have utmost respect for health care workers, the sick and vulnerable and our essential workers. I also have respect for the rule of law. 

But I do know human nature, and I wonder how long we will pace behind an invisible fence, when those we love and the essence of life itself is on the other side. 

For what is living?

 Is it only keeping oneself from harm, or even keeping others safe? At what point will our collective mental state take precedence over these physical dangers? What of the trauma caused by a daughter not able to say goodbye to a father, or a couple married for 60 years, unable to share their last days? Is this not also dangerous?

I am not sure of the answers, but the questions continue to arrive. 

For now I sit in my kitchen and watch the passage of the sun trace a bright arc across the window, 

a sun that seems freer now than I,

though it follows the same path
since the beginning of Time. 

There Were No Classes on Teaching Through Pandemics

One Year Later

It has, once again, been a long while.

Not for lack of things to say, but for perhaps too much to say.
Stuck between the rock of wanting to write and the hard place of not being able to bring myself to write seriously about lesser things.
I think I'm beyond that now, and can scribble happily of other ponderings that have begun to pile up in the interim between the heavier times and the present.

Speaking of Hard Times....

The Pandemic

Today, April 5, 2020, the world is navigating between wanting to carry on as usual and the stark realities of the Covid19 pandemic. It seems almost silly, odd at the very least, to be staying home so much, avoiding people, not driving in to work. But then the news of deaths, climbing positive cases, over-worked and anxious hospital staff, and the cumulative stress and suffering worldwide give us pause. At this time, no one truly succeeds alone.
The concept of being an island is revealed for what it always has been - illusion. What we do or don't do, affects others.
And so we stay apart to try and keep each other well. To protect the elderly and sick, and those whose bodies are simply not able to take on another battle. To show solidarity with those working to heal, to transport groceries, to keep the roads open, to bring essential goods to hopeful residents behind closed doors.
It will be nice to hug again, to pass close to someone and not hold your breath, not see The Virus everywhere. I want to go for long walks and look people in the eye as I meet them, smile, wave and chat for a bit.
It will happen. Meanwhile, to be patient, creative, productive. I'm trying, and I know you are too.
I may settle though, for sanity.

Teaching from Home

I am having to isolate for two weeks, so haven't been to the school since Thursday, March 26. It has been incredibly busy, trying to put lessons online with the site crashing, links disappearing, and students and parents wondering how best to proceed. 

On a positive note, I'm learning a great deal. 

On the flipside, I wonder if we are doing this right. I wonder if we may be drifting toward the rocks.

Here's the deal. 

This isn't a situation schools have navigated before. There is no precedent, as we keep hearing from literally everywhere - "these are unprecedented times". 

It's almost like they are all using the same script. It's efficient, at any rate. 

Some teachers and schools are doing everything they can to communicate with parents, have creative lessons uploaded regularly. Stay accountable. 

Some teachers and schools might do as little as possible, letting students flounder and figure it out on their own, and if they drown, they drown. I hope that is a rare occasion, but human nature often takes the road most traveled. 

And does it really matter, in the end?

To a few students, who enjoy school work, love their teachers, and feel lost without the routine and rigor of the classroom, it will matter. These students will be conscientious and somewhat anxious. They will look for direction and gladly take it, as it settles their world. School is an escape and a way to find purpose in all of this crazy. 

Other students, who see school and school assignments as a colossal waste of time and infringement on their freedoms and very life, will rejoice. Until the Late Assignments and the Calls Home commence, and everything gets tense and miserable indeed. Either that or school will fall so far off the radar that the possibility of an actual calamity or failure at the end of it all doesn't even register. It matters to these students as well, but they don't know it yet. 

Students who struggle with anxiety, perhaps mental illness, a terrible home life, or other heavy weight to bear will stumble under this new Unknown. 

Maybe they can't ask their parents for help. 

Maybe there are no parents, not really. Not decent, caring ones. 

Maybe they spend all day helping with siblings or chores or grandparents, and have nothing left at the end of the day to decipher a vaguely worded email from their teacher, or begin a stack of assignments that might be "DUE TOMORROW or ZERO!!"

Honestly, my family has it pretty good. We have a roof over our heads, steady work for right now, and even a pack of off-brand scratchy toilet paper at the ready. We have each other and we love each other (well the love part may be wearing slightly thin ...too much p r o x i m i t y you understand).

I am well aware though, that some families are torn apart by the stress of job loss, no income, an uncertain future, the illness or death of a loved one. There are families, with children that go to our schools, who were barely hanging on before this. And now, they are undone. 

Who is going to help Junior with his science experiment when mom is catatonic on the couch, no sleep, completely exhausted. Or Dad is taking care of the younger ones while mom recovers from night shift. The house is a mess and there isn't a clean spot at the table. The internet is down. The computer is being hogged by one person and everyone else has to wait. 

Or single-parent families. A mother with no groceries terrified to go out and get them. Impossible decisions, like whether to leave the toddlers alone in the crib and go to the store, or risk taking them with. And then the phone rings, "Hello! I'm the cheery teacher just checking in on why little Johnny hasn't been coming to our online class?" 

Or a teenager who barely emerges from his or her room, lonely and depressed, sleep schedule decimated. "Honey, your teacher called, and you have 12 pages of Chemistry to hand in tomorrow. And an essay due! And did you even know about such-and-such-a-course?? WHAT is going on?? Honey?! What do I tell your teacher?!"  

This is a nasty way to spell S-T-R-E-S-S. 

Online schooling will cater best to highly motivated students and families who have a solid support structure, a decent income, and nothing much else to do. Those are straight facts. 

The ship is sailing ahead as if the sun will forever shine and the seas will be calm. 

My worry is that we are not prepared as schools and teachers for the rocks ahead. We are not prepared for "man overboard!" 

A one-fits-all approach cannot work here. As teachers, we know this and face it every day in our classrooms. But the divide grows and the differences escalate when everything moves out of the classroom, where every student at least has a desk and a place, a pencil, a group of friends, a time to focus. How do we teach when it is so far out of our hands? How do we assess when we don't know what is going on in our student's lives? How do we give an A to the student who has an ideal situation, and an F to the student who may be working to keep the necessities coming in? Or a C to a bright student that cannot seem to learn in this new way? 

I think every teacher is doing the best they can, as teachers generally do. And schools, too. 

The idiosyncrasies of teachers will perhaps stand out more starkly during this work-from-home period. For example, a chronic issue in high schools is that each teacher believes their subject to be The Subject of Highest Importance.  They can't understand why students are not getting the homework done, because it seems very "do-able" to them. They do not really grasp that at one and the same time Mr. English is expecting an essay, Mrs. Physics is expecting a completed assignment booklet, and Mr. Math is wondering why no one looked up the extra bonus question. On the same Monday morning.  

Teachers can be isolated in their classrooms as well as in their disciplines. Usually, it's something to chuckle about in the staff room, a bit of light-hearted banter and some occasional teasing by fellow teachers. Now, it's worth a second look. 

We must learn to take in the whole picture of student life, and adjust accordingly. 

There will be students who truly enjoy your subject, and this lights up your day, but they are not more special than the other students. Just different. Each deserves the same attention. 

I think the next few weeks will tell the tale. 

Perhaps this is all over quickly and we can get back in the classroom, make a few adjustments and carry on. 

Or one by one teachers realize that we need to actually communicate with our students, and not expect that they will remember to look in on your (although very organized and fantastic) website that you told them about in January. They have forgotten. I guarantee they have. 

Teachers with their own teens will probably understand better the trials of parents urging on their great big offspring to stop everything and do schoolwork. Teachers with young kids will be sympathetic to those struggling to keep sane inside a house clanging with literally everything going on at once. 

My point, if I have one, is just to breathe. 

Yes, we need to prepare lessons.
Yes, we hope and pray they get something out of them. 

Yes, we have an obligation to our students, parents and school districts. 

Can we carry the load with more ease? Can we adjust with the changing winds and currents? 

This too shall pass, as the old saying goes, and what we all will remember is how we cared for each other. Not who worked the hardest or who passed the test. 

To the teachers - you are going to make a difference during this pandemic. One way, or another. May you have rest, courage, support, and hope as we move into another week of uncharted seas.