When the country shut down last March, my son Jake was a high school senior. It felt like we quickly became fixated on all that the “seniors” were missing out on--the fun of second semester after you have already committed to a college, graduation and last hurrahs with friends. Former Presidents, celebrities and local communities jumped in to fill the void by creating televised commencements stacked with A-list speakers and musicians, graduation parades in communities across the country were organized, and socially-distant, outdoor celebrations were executed. It was different than ever before, but different isn’t always bad. In some cases, it may have even been better. Jake and all of his friends commented that a parade was preferable to sitting in ties and gowns listening to speakers inside Constitution Hall. I get it. In so many cases, they didn’t know what they were missing, so the substitutions were embraced and appreciated. At the time, I remember feeling so appreciative that it felt like our community and the country embraced my senior and helped him navigate this crazy time. We wrapped up graduation season and felt fulfilled.
Little did many of us realize, that was just the beginning. Within weeks our family focus shifted to our daughter, Dylan, when her “last summer” at camp had been postponed, aka canceled. The feelings of loss for one child had pivoted to the other. There was no easy way to substitute what camp provides, so we just had to help Dylan navigate her sadness and disappointment of not having the special experience she had looked forward to for the past eight years. Clearly, she was hardly alone. As the months have dragged on, this pandemic has robbed children of all ages of just simply being children. It is no longer a discussion about a specific age group being dramatically impacted. Everything our children knew as normal is now uncertain. From the most basic act of attending school in person, to taking the ACT/SAT, to playing on a sports team or on a playground, to having a sleepover with a friend, to attending your graduation ceremony, to having your bar/bat mitzvah, to seeing your extended family for the holidays...everything is canceled, discouraged or held over zoom. And considering this is a generation that we have begged to put down the electronics and interact with people, the impact of all of this screen time and lack of real human interaction will be studied for decades to come.
We can’t begin to comprehend the toll of this pandemic on our mental health, and specifically for our children. In full transparency, prior to the pandemic, I spent a lot of time talking to my friends about how to raise children who had compassion, empathy and coping skills. These are not inherently easy things to ingrain when life generally feels easy. My children know they are loved, know they have a roof over their head and don’t worry about where their next meal is coming from. And that is at the most basic level. If I’m being honest, they live a much more privileged life than that. They know they are lucky, but what does that really mean?
There is so much loss and hardship all around us. Having older children who troll Twitter and other social media platforms, they know about the plight of so many during this pandemic. They ask questions about government relief packages, long food pantry lines and access to Covid testing for all. While I have always tried to have my family help others, it seems even more important right now. When we delivered food from a food bank to people who had lost their jobs due to Covid and could no longer afford groceries, it was heart wrenching and eye opening for them to see how easily and quickly life can change. Every year since my kids were little, we would “adopt a family” and purchase toys so they could have presents under their tree. But, for some reason, that tradition took on more importance this year. I saw my kids look at their holiday gifts with a different level of appreciation. It feels like nothing is being taken for granted.
There is no doubt, our kids have lost so much. All kids have. It has been a very hard and stressful time. I have seen resilience in my kids that I may not have even known they had. But, most importantly, they know how much harder things could be. And unfortunately for so many people, it is. That doesn’t minimize the challenges I see them trying to navigate. All virtual school is isolating, hard and boring. We are asking them to stay motivated, engaged and work hard regardless of the challenging format. Outlets like sports and other extracurricular activities are canceled or online. Friendships are constantly burdened with managing minimal Covid exposure, making each interaction more complicated and stressful. And, we are all doing the best we can. There is no rule book. One minute I’m comfortable with my kids inside a friend’s house with a few kids, the next week, I’m not. It’s confusing to them...and really hard for me. All we can do is be guided by our own comfort level, at that exact moment.
While I have spent a lot of time during this pandemic lamenting over all that my children and others have not been able to experience, yearning for the days when they could simply be kids without the fear of contracting a virus that could cause serious harm to their families and wishing for them to be able to return to their full and busy lives they happily lived before March...I have come to believe, we will never return to life as we knew it. I don’t know what that means or what it looks like, but I’m fairly confident that it’s true. The bubbles we have created for our kids have been forever pierced. But, I have also come to see the good in that. It’s quite possible that living through your own personal disappointments, challenges and hardships may be the only way to truly gain a much-needed perspective for life. So, while at times I wished I could have spared Jake and Dylan from the hard moments they experienced throughout this pandemic, if I had, perhaps they would have missed the many lessons I care the most about--living a life filled with compassion, empathy and the ability to cope when things don’t go the way you had envisioned. To successfully do all of that, you need perspective. And, the reality is that it’s hard to have perspective just because I wanted them to have it, or I lectured them about it, or I taught them the importance of it...and then they quickly returned back to their life that was comfortable.
And So It Goes...there is finally some light at the end of the tunnel. The visuals of the trucks leaving the FedEx facility filled with vaccines makes me hopeful. Yes, it will take time to roll out enough vaccines to achieve herd immunity, but it feels close enough that I will allow myself to imagine life after this pandemic. Do I hope and pray my children will be able to return to attending school, playing indoor sports, living in a camp bunk, enjoying basement fraternity parties, hugging their friends, and kissing their grandparents? Of course. But, I also hope that they will evolve from these months with a perspective that you could only get from all that they have negotiated during the Covid pandemic of 2020. So, as we observe Hanukkah this week, I remind my children that this holiday is not about gifts and latkes, it is really about light, hope and perseverance. How relevant and fitting...