March 12: A Pandemic Anniversary

One year ago today, school closed for Spring Break a day early.  I came to work on Friday the 13th to halls empty of students (how is that for a harbinger of what was to come?) and attended an administrative meeting where the decision was made that school would be remote for the first week after Spring Break.   We were taking things one day at a time but I knew then that one week would not be enough.  As I sat in my quiet office, I realized we would not be back in the school hallways for the rest of the school year.

As the fearful quiet took hold, I scanned history documents and made copies of everything I could possibly need to finish out the year teaching from home.  Then I packed it all in my car and took school home.  I remember that it was sunny and warm; the kind of beautiful Spring day that makes you feel unbelievably lucky to be alive.  That day, before the full fear had taken hold, it felt like I could take my luck for granted.

At the time, I thought we’d all pause for a bit to “flatten the curve” (remember that phrase?) but surely would be back in school by September.  In hindsight, that confidence seems naive.  From my perspective today, one year in to the pandemic, am glad of the naïveté.  On March 12, 2020, I was afraid and willing to pause but I was nowhere near ready to embrace the challenge and sadness the next year would bring.

Today feels so much different than March 2020.  For one thing, I am among the lucky few 11% of the people in New Jersey to be fully vaccinated.  I feel incredibly hopeful about the pace of vaccines in my state; we are now putting out 500k a week and in a state with 7 million vaccine-eligible adults, that is moving fast.  The nation has reached the point of a steady 2 million shots a day.  All of that is hopeful.  My state still has a daily case load that causes me concern - most days, we are at 3,000 new positives.  Over the past year, more than 21,000 of us have died.  New Jersey’s cautious re-opening continues and my family’s even more cautious approach continues as we wait for T and JT to receive their vaccine.

Last March, I hoped for a vaccine by the close of 2020 and felt confident that we would be able to successfully flatten the curve to wait that out.  I was wrong about our national ability to successfully flatten the curve and that inability has cost us dearly.  More than 525,000 people are known to have died of Covid-19 in this nation, a number that is an astounding testament to our inability to work toward the common good for one another.  That tragedy may be the greatest lesson of all, though right now we are unable to collectively learn from it.

Spring Break starts this afternoon and this year feels different.  I will have some time off - a break that is sorely needed - and the perspective of this past year has taught me a great deal.  In no particular order, it has taught me that resilience must be nurtured; that good leadership matters; to say I love you as often as the opportunity arises; to be grateful for science; to count my blessings and turn my face to the light whenever I can find it.