I think it's fair to say that no one expected to spend Spring 2020 in such a bizarre manner. I know I certainly didn't. And yet, it hasn't been all bad in my household.
The schools closed down first here. That was the first sign that Things were happening. As a creative writing teacher, I suddenly had to figure out how to rework the remaining nine week's lessons to fit a new format. Distance learning. I'd only vague experience with it myself, and was very intimidated by the idea of recording lessons on my (ancient) computer. How was this even going to work?
And little Alice was home 24/7, too. As daunting as figuring out (yet more) technology was, doing it with a 4 year old in the background was more so. And what was I going to do with her all day? Now, I was a stay-at-home mom. I know about long days alone with a little one. But this wasn't the same child! Now she was accustomed to recesses and schoolmates and teachers and a dizzying number of work stations all designed to keep her little mind clicking ever onward. Suddenly digging in the dirt and a little story time seemed...not enough.
But we trudged on. Her school sent home weekly packets for us to work through (for which I'm grateful forever!). I recorded some lessons and they didn't end in disaster.
Then the playgrounds closed.
And the library.
Suddenly, I was left with nowhere to go. As someone who leaves her house every day, with reason or otherwise, this was a serious change. And as someone living life with an energetic small child, I was ...concerned.
One day, Alice said, "Momma, let's go swing at the park!"
"We can't, sweetie. We can go to the park and walk around, but we can't use the swings or the playground stuff."
Alice's little voice grew small and quiet. "Let's just go home, Momma."
My heart broke.
Now, I hear stories of people losing their jobs, losing their family members to the virus, losing much more than a trip to the park. It didn't make me any less sad for my little child who couldn't understand why she couldn't go to school or the playground or see her newfound friends. I think all of us have felt the impact of these strange times in different ways, some small and some large.
I saw a thing on Facebook (haven't we all?). It said "We aren't all in the same boat." And it went on to explain that while we are all in the same storm, that storm is effecting each of us differently. Some households are like mine, relatively unscathed, but feeling the cramped restrictions and uncertainties of tomorrow. Some households have dealt with devastating losses that no stimulus plan can ever compensate for. And there is everything in between. I know of a few people who are in the middle of chemotherapy during this time. Others who are pregnant. How scary must those doctor visits be?
However, I have had something (possibly) unique in this time.
In this peculiar and unexpected time, God has been rekindling my dreams.
As it turns out, I actually enjoyed teaching online. No one could be more surprised by that than I have been. Me? Who loathes technology? Who cherishes having bodies in the room and eye contact? Who cringes at the idea of having to learn new software programs? But I did. It was fun. And I discovered some options that aren't as easily accomplished in a crowded classroom. Some of my students talked to me more honestly through an email than they ever did in class. It was enlightening!
As it turns out, I enjoyed homeschooling my child. I don't think I could do that full-time, but if this comes my way again, I feel ready. Will we be facing another quarantine situation this fall? Only God knows. But if it happens, and my sweet daughter comes home with a packet full of activities, I can handle it. We will be okay. And if we face some other peculiar time in which all of our children are learning via a computer again, I'm no longer afraid.
I am no longer afraid.
I will probably always write. I don't think I could help myself from it. But in this recent season of life, I have been reminded of my deep love of teaching. Whether it is teaching my child about the parts of a flower or teaching a teenager about plot points and story arcs, I love it. Come to my house and I'll teach you to sew or draw or cook (sort of, at least). Put me in a room full of strangers, and I'll teach them to write and (hopefully) write well. Regardless of what I am teaching, it is the teaching that fills me up.
I will probably always write. But now instead of imagining a future in which I churn out a dizzying number of books, I instead imagine a varied life. I imagine teaching others about the things I love. I imagine writing and teaching and ...
And.
God breathed a dream in me. I am forever thankful for this very strange time in life. If it hadn't happened, would I have taken notice of that dream? If it hadn't happened, would I have been paying enough attention to catch it?
What dream has been tucked away inside of you? Are you paying attention? Can you catch it? I certainly hope so.