I notice that I am still struggling in finding my way back to writing this blog. I miss my old writing process. Every Monday or Tuesday I would head to First Draft, sit at the bar with a drink, pop in my headphones, and write. There’s something about being around other people that keeps me motivated to write while also offering brief moments of distraction.
I also recognize that I struggle in finding the message I want to send at this time. Since the Black Lives Matter Movement re-entered the spotlight in May, I struggle to add anything to the internet that could distract from their message. Not only do I want to *amplify the voices of BIPOC, but most importantly I don’t want to bury their posts and messages by adding to the endless scroll of unrelated posts.
Obviously, the other big struggle we are all still coping with is COVID-19. For the most part, I feel like I found a comfortable rhythm and routine during this pandemic. I’m enjoying working from home, especially since moving into a bigger space. I recognize that the privilege I have that allows me to find peace during this chaos and I work hard to remain grateful for it. But sometimes gratitude takes effort.
As the future continues to remain a giant question mark due to the pandemic and systems of oppression that continue their tight hold on our country, we need to find how we can continue to cope and manage through it all.
As we get deeper into this calendar year, we are now faced with the start of the new school year…in the middle of a social justice crisis…in the middle of a pandemic. I’m concerned.
I’m concerned for our teachers and support staff. I’m concerned for their physical, emotional, and mental well-being. These individuals have been overworked, underpaid, and often underappreciated. They are not only expected to help our children grow and become curious learners, but also keep them safe from bullies and school shooters. They are expected to help build up children’s self-confidence, teach them critical thinking skills, and encourage healthy communication with peers. And to thank them for all of the wonderful work that they do, people have called them babysitters and are opting to put them in harm’s way by pushing for in-person classes….in the middle of pandemic. And let’s be honest, the online option isn’t any less stressful for teachers, staff, students, or parents.
For those that don’t know, I come from a family of teachers. I grew up watching all of the hard work that goes into preparing lesson plans, organizing classrooms, hours of required and voluntary training, and the deep passion for the profession. I learned the value of education, especially in marginalized communities. I have had the pleasure of seeing the incredible difference that educators like my mom, aunt, and cousin have made in the lives of these children.
I am worried for all of my loved ones, acquaintances, and strangers who are essential workers. It seems that the longer we are in this situation, the less people are starting to care about precautions despite our continued alarming numbers (in Arizona, at least). I find the cognitive dissonance of this situation to be exhausting.
This is really all to make a request of you all: Be kind.
Please be kind to our essential workers (medical personnel, grocery store employees, restaurant and gig workers, etc). Show kindness and care to our school teachers, support staff, etc.
We are all sick of this situation and at this point, many of us have been directly impacted by it (COVID-19, racism, systemic oppression, or all of the above). Let’s care for one another and help lift each other up during this time of crisis.
Wishing you all good health and resilience during this time.
*For anyone that identifies as BIPOC, I open up my blog to you. If you’re interested in telling your story, sharing your thoughts, feelings, or joy, please let me know. I would be happy to pass the keyboard.
