The current hot-button issue is whether schools,
which have been closed since March with kids at home all day and only virtual
classes going, should re-open in the fall with some hybrid of x days in class and y days at home online. Of course the *president and many Republican
governors are stumping for full-time in school. Most Democrat governors,
teachers, scientists, universities, doctors and many parents are advocating for
all online classes. Another portion of people want a hybrid model.
First let me say, I did not write this. It was
posted on my local Next Door and seems to have come originally from a FB post.
Second, I have cut some of the information that was specific to the original writer’s
school district. The original writer has daughters in 8th and 10th grades.
If you’re a parent concerned about [school in]
the fall being virtual, I suggest you read this.
…
Like all of you, I’ve seen my feed
become a flood of anxiety and faux expertise. You’ll get no presumption of
expertise here. This is how I am looking at and considering this issue and the
positions people have taken in my feed … The lead comments in quotes are taken
directly from my feed. ... Sometimes I try to rationalize them.
Sometimes I’m just punching back at the void. … As I consider the positions and
arguments I see in my feed, these are where my mind goes. Of note, when I
started working on this piece at 12:19 PM today the COVID death tally in the
United States stood at 133,420.
“My kids want to go back to
school.”
I challenge that position. I believe what the kids desire is more abstract. I
believe what they want is a return to normalcy. They want their idea of
yesterday. And yesterday isn’t on the menu.
“I want my child in school
so they can socialize.” This was the principle reason for our 2 days decision. As I
think more on it though, what do we think ‘social’ will look like? There aren’t
going to be any lunch table groups, any lockers, any recess games, any study
halls, any sitting next to friends, any talking to people in the hallway, any
dances. All of that is off the menu. So, when we say that we want the kids to
benefit from the social experience, what are we deluding ourselves into
thinking in-building socialization will actually look like in the fall?
“My kid is going to be left
behind.”
Left behind who? The entire country is grappling with the same issue, leaving
all children in the same quagmire. Who exactly would they be behind? I believe
the rhetorical answer to that is “They’ll be behind where they should be,” to
which I’ll counter that “where they should be” is a fictional goal post that we
as a society have taken as gospel because it maps to standardized tests which
are used to grade schools and counties as they chase funding.
“Classrooms are safe.” At the current distancing
guidelines from [our] middle and high schools would have no more than 12 people
(teachers + students) in a classroom… For the purpose of this discussion we’ll
say classes run 45 minutes. I posed the following question to 40 people today,
representing professional and management roles in corporations, government
agencies, and military commands: “Would your company or command have a 12
person, 45 minute meeting in a conference room?” 100% of them said no, they
would not. These are some of their answers:
“No. Until further notice we are on Zoom.”
“(Our company) doesn’t allow us in (company space).”
“Oh hell no.”
“No absolutely not.”
“Is there a percentage lower than zero?”
“Something of that size would be virtual.”
We
do not even consider putting our office employees into the same situation we
are contemplating putting our children into. And let’s drive this point home:
there are instances here when commanding officers will not put soldiers, ACTUAL
SOLDIERS, into the kind of indoor environment we’re contemplating for our
children. For me this is as close to a ‘kill shot’ argument as there is in this
entire debate. How do we work from home because buildings with recycled air are
not safe, because we don’t trust other people to not spread the virus, and then
with the same breath send our children into buildings?
“Children only die .0016 of
the time.”
First, conceding we’re an increasingly morally bankrupt society, but when did
we start talking about children’s lives, or anyone’s lives, like this? This how
the villain in movies talks about mortality, usually 10-15 minutes before the
good guy kills him. If you’re in this camp, and I acknowledge that many, many
people are, I’m asking you to consider that number from a slightly different
angle. [Our district] has 189,000 children. .0016 of that is 302. 302 dead
children are the Calvary Hill you’re erecting your argument on. So, let’s agree
to do this: stop presenting this as a data point. If this is your argument, I
challenge you to have courage equal to your conviction. Go ahead, plant a flag
on the internet and say, “Only 302 children will die.” No one will. That’s the
kind [of] action on social media that gets you fired from your job. And I trust
our social media enclave isn’t so careless and irresponsible with life that it
would even, for even a millisecond, enter any of your minds to make such an
argument.
Considered
another way: You’re presented with a bag with 189,000 $1 bills. You’re told
that in the bag are 302 random bills, they look and feel just like all the
others, but each one of those bills will kill you. Do you take the money out of
the bag? Same argument, applied to the 12,487 teachers in [our district] using
the ‘children’s multiplier’ of .0016 (all of us understanding the adult
mortality rate is higher). That’s 20 teachers. That’s the number you’re talking
about. It’s very easy to sit behind a keyboard and diminish and dismiss the
risk you’re advocating other people assume. Take a breath and think about that.
If you want to advocate for 2 days a week, look, I’m looking for someone to
convince me. But please, for the love of God, drop things like this from your
argument. Because the people I know who’ve said things like this, I know
they’re better people than this. They’re good people under incredible stress
who let things slip out as their frustration boils over. So, please do the
right thing and move on from this, because one potential outcome is that one
day, you’re going to have to stand in front of St. Peter and answer for this,
and that’s not going to be conversation you enjoy.
“Hardly any kids get
COVID.”
(Deep sigh) Yes, that is statistically true as of this writing. But it is a cherry-picked
argument because you’re leaving out an important piece. One can reasonably
argue that, due to the school closures in March, children have had the least
EXPOSURE to COVID. In other words, closing schools was the one pandemic
mitigation action we took that worked. There can be no discussion of the rate
of diagnosis within children without also acknowledging they were among our
fastest and most quarantined people. Put another way, you cannot cite the
effect without acknowledging the cause.
“The flu kills more people
every year.” (Deep sigh). First of all, no, it doesn’t. Per the CDC,
United States flu deaths average 20,000 annually. COVID, when I start writing
here today, has killed 133,420 in six months. And when you mention the flu, do
you mean the disease that, if you’re suspected of having it, everyone,
literally everyone in the country tells you stay the f- away from other people?
You mean the one where parents are pretty sure their kids have it but send them
to school anyway because they have a meeting that day, the one that every year
causes massive f-ing outbreaks in schools because schools are Petri dishes and
it causes kids to miss weeks of school and leaves them out of sports and band
for a month? That one? Because you’re right - the flu kills people every year.
It does, but you’re ignoring the why. It’s because there are people who are
a--holes who don’t care about infecting other people. In that regard it’s a
perfect comparison to COVID.
“Almost everyone recovers.” You’re confusing “release
from the hospital” and “no longer infected” with “recovered.” I’m fortunate to
only know two people who have had COVID; one my age and one my dad’s age. The
one my age described it as “absolute hell” and although no longer infected
cannot breathe right. The one my dad’s age was in the hospital for 13 weeks,
had to have a trach ring put in because she could no longer be on a ventilator,
and upon finally getting home and being faced with incalculable time in rehab
told my mother, “I wish I had died.” While I’m making every effort to reach
objectivity, on this particular point, you don’t know what the f- you’re
talking about.
“If people get sick, they get sick.”
First, you mistyped. What you intended to say was “If OTHER people get sick,
they get sick.” And shame on you.
“I’m not going to live my
life in fear.” You already live your life in fear. For your health, your
family’s health, your job, your retirement, terrorists, extremists, one
political party or the other being in power, the new neighbors, an unexpected
home repair, the next sunrise. What you meant to say was, “I’m not prepared to
add ANOTHER fear,” and I’ve got news for you: that ship has sailed. It’s too
late. There are two kinds of people, and only two: those that admit they’re
afraid, and those that are lying to themselves about it. As to the fear
argument, fear is the reason you wait up when your kids stay out late, it’s the
reason you tell your kids not to dive in the shallow water, to look both ways
before crossing the road. Fear is the respect for the wide world that we teach
our children. Except in this instance, for reasons no one has been able to
explain to me yet.
“[Our district] leadership
sucks.”
I will summarize my view of the School Board thusly: if the 12 of you aren’t
getting into a room together because it represents a risk, don’t tell me it’s
OK for our kids. I understand your arguments, that we need the 2 days option
for parents who can’t work from home, kids who don’t have internet or computer
access, kids who need meals from the school system, kids who need extra support
to learn, and most tragically for kids who are at greater risk of abuse by
being home. All very serious, all very real issues, all heartbreaking. No
argument. But you must first lead by example. Because you’re failing when it
comes to optics. All your meetings are online. What our children see is all of
you on a Zoom telling them it’s OK for them to be exactly where you aren’t. I
understand you’re not PR people, but you really should think about hiring some.
“I talked it over with my
kids.”
Let’s put aside for a moment the concept of adults effectively deferring this
decision to children, the same children who will continue to stuff things into
a full trash can rather than change it out. Yes, those hygienic children.
Listen, my 15 year old daughter wants a sport car, which she’s not getting next
year because it would be dangerous to her and to others. Those kinds of
decisions are our job. We step in and decide as parents, we don’t let them
expose themselves to risks because their still developing and screen addicted
brains narrow their understanding of cause and effect. We as parents and adults
serve to make difficult decisions. Sometimes those are in the form of lessons,
where we try to steer kids towards the right answer and are willing to let them
make a mistake in the hopes of teaching better decision making the next time
around. This is not one of those moments. The stakes are too high for that.
This is a “the adults are talking” moment. Kids are not mature enough for this moment.
That is not an attack on your child. It is a broad statement about all
children. It is true of your children and it was true when we were children. We
need to be doing that thinking here, and “Johnny wants to see Bobby at school”
cannot be the prevailing element in the equation.
“The teachers need to do
their job.” How is it that the same society which abruptly shifted to
virtual students only three months ago, and offered glowing endorsements of
teachers stating, “we finally understand how difficult your job is,” has now
shifted to “screw you, do your job.” There are myriad problems with that
position but for the purposes of this piece let’s simply go with, “You’re not
looking for a teacher, you’re looking for the babysitter you feel your property
tax payment entitles you to.”
“Teachers have a greater
chance to being killed by a car than they do of dying from COVID.” (Eye roll) Per the
Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS), the U.S. has approximately
36,000 auto fatalities a year. Again, there have been 133,420 COVID deaths in
the United States through 12:09 July 10, 2020. So no, they do not have a greater
chance of being killed in a car accident. And, if you want to take the actual
environment into consideration, the odds of a teacher being killed in a car
accident in their classroom, you know, the environment we’re actually talking
about, that’s right around 0%.
“If the grocery store
workers can be onsite what are the teachers afraid of?” (Deep breath) A grocery
store worker, who absolutely risks exposure, has either six feet of space or a Plexiglas
shield between them and individual adult customers who can grasp their own
mortality whose transactions can be completed in moments, in a 40,000 SF space.
A teacher is with 11 ‘customers’ who have not an inkling what mortality is, for
45 minutes, in a 675 SF space, six times a day. Just stop.
“Teachers are choosing
remote because they don’t want to work.” (Deep breaths) Many teachers are opting to be remote.
That is not a vacation. They’re requesting to do their job at a safer site.
Just like many, many people who work in buildings with recycled air have done.
And likely the building you’re not going into has a newer and better serviced
air system than our schools. Of greater interest to me is the number of
teachers choosing the 100% virtual option for their [own] children. The people
who spend the most time in the buildings are the same ones electing not to send
their children into those buildings. That’s something I pay attention to.
“I wasn’t prepared to be a
parent 24/7” and “I just need a
break.” I truly, deeply respect that honesty. Truth be told, both arguments
have crossed my mind. Pre-COVID, I routinely worked from home 1 – 2 days a
week. The solace was nice. When I was in the office, I had an actual office, a
room with a door I could close, where I could focus. During the quarantine that
hasn’t always been the case. I’ve been frustrated, I’ve been short, I’ve gone
to just take a drive and get the hell away for a moment and been disgusted when
one of the kids sees me and asks me to come for a ride, robbing me of those
minutes of silence. You want to hear silence. I get it. I really, really do.
Here’s another version of that, admittedly extreme. What if one of our kids
becomes one of the 302? What’s that silence going to sound like? What if you
have one of those matted frames where you add the kid’s school picture every
year? What if you don’t get to finish the pictures?
“What does your gut tell
you to do?” Shawn and I have talked ad infinitum about all of these and
other points. Two days ago, at mid-discussion I said, “Stop, right now, gut
answer, what is it,” and we both said, “virtual.” A lot of the arguments I hear
people making for the 2 days sound like we’re trying to talk ourselves into
ignoring our instincts, they are almost exclusively, “We’re doing 2 days,
but…”. There’s a fantastic book by Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear, which
I’ll minimize for you thusly: your gut instinct is a hardwired part of your
brain and you should listen to it. In the introduction he talks about
elevators, and how, of all living things, humans are the only ones that would
voluntarily get into a soundproof steel box with a potential predator just so
they could skip a flight of stairs. I keep thinking that the 2 days option is
the soundproof steel box. I welcome, damn, beg, anyone to convince me
otherwise.
At
the time I started writing at 12:09 PM, 133,420 Americans had died from COVID.
Upon completing this draft at 7:04 PM, that number rose to 133,940. 520
Americans died of COVID while I was working on this. In seven hours. The length
of a school day.
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