The Q? Quarantine!
This is the beginning of a blog, but not the beginning of THIS. What is happening to us. And I keep trying to write back to the beginning, but maybe I can't. I have to just start.
Because we are living history. Right now. This hasn't happened in my lifetime, nor in my parents. You have to go back 100 years to find something that compares.
Three and a half weeks ago was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. I gave up sodas. And I decided to try to journal every day, as my Lenten practice. My first entries are full of thinking about writing, trying to build a habit, things to remember to do the next day. The world was already facing this pandemic - and it wasn't even making it into my journal.
Three weeks ago today Matthew (my son) came down from Fayetteville for early voting in the presidential primary. I was watching CNN every night, and realizing that my favorite candidates were losing ground. I was thinking about delegate counts and who would be the Democratic nominee.
But I must have been hearing things. I found a text exchange between Matthew and me from January 22nd. He asked if I'd heard of the new coronavirus in China. I asked "Do you ever read something like that and wonder if we'll be looking back in a year, remembering the start of a pandemic? Or am I just morbid like that?"
My journal since then has been much more regular, but not very personal. It has daily statistics. I wrote about the first big impact on my life - when they cancelled audiences for Matthew's orchestra concert in late April (they later cancelled the concert entirely). I had been looking forward to hearing them play Beethoven's 9th Symphony for almost a year. My journal talks about the run on toilet paper at the grocery stores (and how I scored some on Tuesday night, March 10th, thanks to Ms. Byars, and felt extremely lucky). It tells about emails that Matthew got, warning him that the university would be switching to online classes - about 5 days before Fort Smith Schools announced their closing.
Now it's spring break. And although there are no assignments due (unless students didn't do their work this week - if that's you, you have HOMEWORK), I want to encourage my students to journal, in whatever way makes sense to them. Write it down. Take pictures. Make videos. Make art. They are living history. They won’t remember all the things they think they will. And it will be something to look back on one day.
Because we are living history. Right now. This hasn't happened in my lifetime, nor in my parents. You have to go back 100 years to find something that compares.
Three and a half weeks ago was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. I gave up sodas. And I decided to try to journal every day, as my Lenten practice. My first entries are full of thinking about writing, trying to build a habit, things to remember to do the next day. The world was already facing this pandemic - and it wasn't even making it into my journal.
Three weeks ago today Matthew (my son) came down from Fayetteville for early voting in the presidential primary. I was watching CNN every night, and realizing that my favorite candidates were losing ground. I was thinking about delegate counts and who would be the Democratic nominee.
But I must have been hearing things. I found a text exchange between Matthew and me from January 22nd. He asked if I'd heard of the new coronavirus in China. I asked "Do you ever read something like that and wonder if we'll be looking back in a year, remembering the start of a pandemic? Or am I just morbid like that?"
My journal since then has been much more regular, but not very personal. It has daily statistics. I wrote about the first big impact on my life - when they cancelled audiences for Matthew's orchestra concert in late April (they later cancelled the concert entirely). I had been looking forward to hearing them play Beethoven's 9th Symphony for almost a year. My journal talks about the run on toilet paper at the grocery stores (and how I scored some on Tuesday night, March 10th, thanks to Ms. Byars, and felt extremely lucky). It tells about emails that Matthew got, warning him that the university would be switching to online classes - about 5 days before Fort Smith Schools announced their closing.
Now it's spring break. And although there are no assignments due (unless students didn't do their work this week - if that's you, you have HOMEWORK), I want to encourage my students to journal, in whatever way makes sense to them. Write it down. Take pictures. Make videos. Make art. They are living history. They won’t remember all the things they think they will. And it will be something to look back on one day.
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