Unsung Heroes

COVID-19 sucks. Period. There are more elegant ways I could say such, but I’m going for brevity and clarity. Discussing it more than I already have over the past year would be like beating a dead horse, except this damn horse never dies. People are tired. I am tired. But this needs to be said.

I have the utmost respect for medical professionals. I appreciate their dedication, commitment, compassion, and tireless efforts. I don’t wish to diminish the critical role they’ve played, and continue to play, day in and day out. Sure, it’s their job– but this has to feel like an endless series of bad days. Thank you. I see you and appreciate you.

I want to give a shout out to the parents too. For those trying to do their job, keep up their home (laundry, cooking, dishes, lawn care, etc.), raise their kids, care for their aging parents, feed the pets, and/or any variety of other things, here is a high five and “you got this.” Show yourself some grace. Cut yourself some slack. Take a nap. I see you. I feel you. I am you.

I’ll also go ahead and add that I am annoyed by individuals who think this global pandemic is “just the flu,” who can’t be bothered to wear a mask, or refuse to wear one properly (cover your mouth AND your nose). Seriously, it’s not that hard. Take one for the team. I see you. You frustrate me.

THIS blog, however, is about the unsung heroes of this unprecedented, relentless, never-seeming-to-end merry-go-round of a shit show. The unsung heroes to me are those who are bystanders to all that is happening TO AND AROUND them, who’ve been dealt blow after blow and (even if they wallow for a few hours or a few days in the understandable stress and anxiety) still get back up with a smile and GET IT DONE.

The unsung heroes, at least in my world, are the K-12 teachers and our children.

For nearly a year now, our teachers and our children, their students, have been asked to “make it work,” “stay positive,” “roll with the punches,” and “know it won’t be this way forever.”

For the teachers, it’s meant more work and more expectations. More hats to wear. More roles to fill. Teach remotely. Adjust that… teach remote students AND in-person students, simultaneously. Back to fully remote. And, back again, to hybrid. Between classes, wipe down desks and sanitize everything. Do this. Adapt to that schedule. Wear a cloth mask and a face shield. Make sure kids keep their masks on, at all times. Orchestrate meals. Be flexible. Adjust everything. Yes, by next week. You can do it. You’ve got this, even with little to no notice. Oh, and yes, we’ll be assessing you all the while.

TEACHERS: Underpaid. Under-appreciated. Under-resourced. Under-supported. AND… Brilliant. Patient. Creative. Loving. Encouraging. Inspiring. Effective. I see you. I feel for you. I want to validate you and your experiences. This sucks. I don’t envy you. You are truly AMAZING human beings. It isn’t enough, it will never be enough, but from the bottom of my heart I want to say…

CHILDREN: Tired. Trying. Afraid. Anxious. Withdrawn. Affected. All in the same boat. AND… Innocent. Hopeful. Willing. Resilient. Optimistic. Promising. Our future.

I hate to think about kindergarten students who, to date, don’t know what “real school” is or looks like… they think “this” is it. They haven’t experienced the school cafeteria or recess. What is right now is all they know.

I admire the juniors and seniors who envisioned Friday night football games, Homecoming, Prom, and Graduation. I ache for the athletes who won’t compete, won’t get to enjoy Parent’s Night, won’t experience the camaraderie amongst the team, and won’t have memories to share of “that time they” did whatever at their future reunions. These students hopes have been turned upside down. I’m disappointed for them. I imagine they’re devastated. And yet, they do what they can to make the most of it. They adjust their dreams and aspirations determined to make the most of what is. They’ve no other choice.

I’ve had 43 years on this Earth. A small fraction, 1/43rd of my life, has been spent living during COVID-19. I remember the before. I have enough experience and wisdom to know there will be an after. It’s hard to think about my daughters perspectives… having 1/8… 1/11… or 1/14 of their life like THIS. Ouch.

COVID-19 is our children’s JFK Shooting, Challenger Explosion, Columbine, and 9/11… but it didn’t come and go. It’s still here. It will define an entire generation, worldwide. The true impact won’t be known for years. I am impressed, humbled really, with the tenacity, strength, and resilience of our children.

To that, I say…

Talk may be cheap, but words are powerful. When I feel helpless, I write. This blog won’t change or solve a damn thing, but it does allow me to embrace gratitude… to share my appreciation and respect… to type a HUG and send it out to the world, earmarked for those who just keep going… and, especially, to recognize and acknowledge the unsung heroes.

This is dedicated to K-12 teachers and our children, their students.