Am I sending the kids to school this year?

Up until this point I’ve been going back and forth about sending the kids to school this fall. I even answered YES to the district survey about wanting a partial return. But this. These two Facebook posts have pretty much changed my mind.

Sending teachers and students back to school buildings is human sacrifice at this point.

And this post written by a dad in Fairfax county (where we last lived.)

This is long but totally worth the read. Especially if you are someone that wants/needs schools to open regardless of the risk and lack of logistical details provided to families and staff.

From Joe Morice, daughters in 8th & 10th grade in our Centreville Pyramid:

To our fellow FCPS families, this is it gang, 5 days until the 2 days in school vs. 100% virtual decision. Let’s talk it out, in my traditional mammoth TL/DR form.

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 and in the hundred or so FCPS discussion groups that have popped up. The lead comments in quotes are taken directly from my feed and those boards. Sometimes I try to rationalize them. Sometimes I’m just punching back at the void.

Full disclosure, we initially chose the 2 days option and are now having serious reservations. 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 FCPS middle and high schools would have no more than 12 people (teachers + students) in a classroom (I acknowledge this number may change as FCPS considers the Commonwealth’s 3 ft with a mask vs. 6 ft position, noting that FCPS is all mask regardless of the distance). 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.

FCPS 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 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 FCPS (per Wikipedia), 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.

“FCPS 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 needs 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. see 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 great 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 plexiglass 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 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.

Goodbye fifth grade!

Owen’s teachers planned a goodbye meeting at a local park. People were really good about having masks and/or keeping a safe distance…

The kids were all really excited to see each other and actually talk to each other.

The teachers walked around to see everyone and say goodbye, and I was able to take the end of year pic. Not quite like other years…but definitely one for the memory books!

Mrs. Lother & Mrs. McCowen

Last day of school and eLearning (2nd and 5th).

Katie picked out this fancy dress to go to school supply pickup. Of course she hadn’t showered in three days.

It was a little bright on the porch.

She missed her last class Zoom meeting where they were going to share their goodbye posters so I posted it to the school’s page and sent it to her teacher.

School supply pickup was more emotional for me than I anticipated. I might have gotten a little teary-eyed as we drove away. I asked Katie if she was okay and told her I was sad so it was okay if she was. She said she was a little sad but she was okay. Leave it to Mom to be overly emotional.

Then we had to go through a huge garbage bag of Katie’s stuff…including…a lunch bag. Thankfully it was empty!! We were all thinking we’d have to just toss the whole thing. Phew! Oh, and we had an outfit change!

Then it was time to take Owen’s pictures—-and he hadn’t showered in awhile, either. But Tom had given him a buzz cut.

Not crying… Still too bright!

Normally last day of school pics are just me and the kids…

…but since Dad is working from home, he got in on the action. #gonnamissthisbench

Katie’s teacher gift drop off!

It’s Teacher Appreciation Week and…end of year I guess?! Mrs. Hansen got some beauty goodies from me and, well, since it’s Cinco de Mayo she also got margaritas (plus Katie’s memory book to write in). She only lives about a mile from us—and probably less as the crow flies.

Lest you think I forgot Owen’s teacher…I delivered hers last week! That was a story in itself. I transposed her address so I actually dropped off the gift—and Owen’s book!—at the wrong house!!! There were a few moments of panic on my end because Owen’s book is irreplaceable and I kept thinking WHAT IF… Plus with the Corona thing, it’s not like she could just go knock on the other person’s door! And I felt horrible that I screwed it up. Well, some quick googling got me property records and a name which got me to LinkedIn where I recognized the guy who had been inside the screen door at a desk (I had just assumed it was her husband) and his posted resume had a phone number! I called and left a message explaining everything…and he called back almost immediately—he had been talking to her! She had walked down and they had a nice chat! In a bizarre turn of events, his daughter’s name was Heather and she was a teacher so he just thought it was a gift for her and didn’t even think anything of it! But he was very nice about it and even joked about enjoying the margaritas!

The Hudson read three stories for Katie’s class!

Katie’s teacher sent a YouTube video of her reading a story so I asked the kids if they wanted to do one…and to my surprise they both said yes. Katie whines and complains so much about reading that I was FLOORED that she was excited to do it. She knew exactly the book she wanted to read (they’ve read it in class), she knew what one I should read (an old favorite), and Owen knew what one he wanted immediately.

Death by 1000 cuts…

I am so tried of every single little issue that I have to take care of or referee. Poor Tom gets an earful every time he ventures up for a bathroom or coffee break.

  • Katie’s videos don’t have sound on the desktop
  • Owen can’t login to his google meet
  • such and such google doc is missing
  • Katie can’t figure out 9+4 even though she knows how
  • Owen makes so much noise while he works (feet tapping, humming, singing, gum chewing, etc.) and it drives me and Katie crazy (which then causes them to argue)
  • they are both watching videos on their separate devices and can’t hear because they’re loud so we have to hunt down headphones
  • a friend calls their device to chat so they both jump up (its now muted)
  • I get asked all morning long if it’s time to watch science videos (we do have a schedule for this reason)
  • the doorbell rings and they both jump up to answer it
  • Katie’s website doesn’t have sound again
  • if one is watching a video the other one migrates over
  • Schoology is down then up then down then up
  • I have to keep track of emails and texts and websites and assignments
  • and on and on and on while also trying to do my job…and I can’t seem to get anything done.

I know it’s just the start and we’ll get into a rhythm, but for now, it’s exhausting. I don’t know how parents with more kids or a full-time job are doing if I’m this much of a stressball.

This is our third school schedule.

I did a daily schedule the first week we were out of school. It worked pretty well. The kids knew what time blocks came next and pretty much stuck to it on their own.

Then came the week of spring break and we got off the rails a little. I revised the schedule a little in preparation of the anticipated actual distance learning… Only to have the teacher’s schedule sent out after I had finished so I had to revise a little. After a day of no one really even following it…I came up with a new schedule that put all academics in the morning so when it was lunchtime, that was the end of school. I had been trying to break it up throughout the day but I kind of think it made it harder, so…we’ll see. I actually hate having a schedule at all, but if we didn’t have it, every day would be a dumpster fire as no one would do any schoolwork but they’d beg for tech all day.

I already see some minor changes I want to make, and I’m sure this will get edited a few more times before we get settled into our new learning routine. We have at least a month ahead of us…

I’m appreciative that we are able to do distance learning and that I am actually able to be here for the kids and it’s not a hardship for us…but it is frustrating that ALL the hard work I did to get the kids detoxed from tech has all been wiped away within two weeks. 

A new bingo night!

Owen’s school had a bingo night this year. It wasn’t quite the event the elementary has, but we still had fun (we invited Anna and the boys)…and Owen won one of the rounds!!

Initially he chose a gift card for 30 minutes of jumping at a local place but after talking to him and explaining that it would cost us more money to use it (because Katie would like to go, plus we usually go for 2 hours), he asked if he could switch prizes and they said yes…so I guided him to a $20 gift card to a local ice cream place!!!

My brows are outside my box for Valentine’s Day!

When you’re volunteering in your daughter’s classroom for a Valentine’s Day party, why not have pink eyebrows?!

Even though I knew I was putting pink in my eyebrows, it was really very disconcerting to see totally pink eyebrows so I decided to add some fake magnetic lashes to perk up my eyes a little bit more. I never would have done this a few years ago…so SeneGence has really helped me step outside my comfort zone.

I also went outside my box and used three (not two!) colors on my eyes today. Here’s to stepping outside your comfort zone!! #nofilter #tanfoundation #fawnfoundation #makesense #pinkhibiscusshimmer #shellglitter #champagneshimmer #shadowsense #plumerialipsense #pearlgloss #cherryblushsense #livinglippy

It’s fall, y’all!

I volunteered to do Owen’s teacher’s door for fall! I hadn’t thought that I’d get to choose what I wanted, so of course I started overthinking. I like Pinterest but it’s just so overwhelming. I ended up asking Anna to help me since she did a door for the same teacher last year…

It’s not perfect but it’s not bad for my first time! It was great having an extra set of hands, otherwise I’d have been there twice as long! Owen helped a little bit but honestly he wasn’t that much help (tape circles proved to be a huge challenge).

Katie’s second grade picture outfit!

We didn’t really plan for her hair to be pink, but earlier in the week she wanted half purple and half pink hair and I didn’t realize when I agreed that school pictures were coming up. Over the summer the color never lasted long because we always were at the pool and the color comes out pretty easily in the pool in one day. But we had no pool this time, so her hair was still really colored…so we just went all pink!

Owen’s Crazy Mohawk

So Owen has a mohawk but he never lets me put product in to actually show it off so I’ve just given up asking. But today…today he said it was Crazy Hair Day and had a smile on his face.

“Soooooo, can I do your hair today?!” And he smiled big and bright and said yes. So we washed it with purple shampoo, then I loaded it up with Gorilla Snot gel, and then sprayed it with not one…not two…but three hair colors.

My boy is growing up and slowly turning into a pre-teen before my eyes (he’s almost 11) so I’ll grab these chances to do something fun with him.

Katie’s Curriculum Night & Tornado Warning

Parents who do their kids school projects for them? UGH. Our second graders had to create a square about themselves/their family. Are you kidding me with these?! I mean she they’re GORGEOUS and amazing but c’mon.

The letter Katie left for me:

All the things she references are other projects hanging around the room:

Baseball sheet:

Her shirt (her goals):

And she wins the most organized desk over Owen:

When we all walked in it was sunny and nice. Then we were in the basement and couldn’t see because it was getting dark out. Then everyone’s phones started going off…

Then there’s nothing like being sent into the hallway to wait out a tornado warning! There’s a first time for everything!

I checked in with Tom because they had been at baseball practice and he said it had been cancelled so they were actually already at home…eating dinner in the basement. And Owen was showing Tom what to do in case of a tornado. (Interestingly he wasn’t nearly as scared as he used to be with wind issues. So that’s a bonus.)

They ended up cancelling the rest of curriculum night as we had had ended up waiting for like 30 minutes. Thankfully our teacher had been about done.

The first day of 2nd and 5th!

Long story short, the school schedules all got mixed around this year. Owen used to have to get on the bus at 7:35am (which was perfect because he wakes up around six and he can get himself completely ready all by himself). And then when he was leaving the house at 7:30, I was waking Katie up if she wasn’t already up (which, more often than not, she was still sleeping) to get her on the bus at 8:20.

This year…Katie has to get on the bus at 7:25am…and Owen doesn’t need to get on the bus until 8:50!! Katie has a little bit harder time getting ready on her own (showering and washing her hair) so I have to get up with her—which means I actually have to set an alarm for the first time in two years. At 6am. YUCK.

I had no idea what to expect, but the morning went well. Katie was up by 6:15 and was ready in plenty of time to take first day of school pics. (I did find out after-the-fact that she skipped breakfast so that was a bit of a fail but other than that it went well.)

Usually I take sibling photos right before they get on the bus but Owen had to get dressed quick before she left because he had another hour and a half to wait.

On his way up to shower, he told Katie “If you have to leave before I get out, I love you!” (All together now…AWWWW!) He managed to shower and get dressed before she left for the bus, so he’s now in his first day outfit. Plus he wanted to go to the bus stop with her (and to see Enzo).

And then it was back to the house to waste an hour and a half before his bus.

And with neighbor and friend Nate at the bus stop:

And the official Facebook photo!

Meeting the teachers!

We have heard all great things about both kids teachers so we’re very excited for the school year. (Good friends of ours told us that they would take Owen’s teacher for every grade from here on out!)

Katie’s was first thing in the morning. If you can believe it, she was super shy. Like SUPER shy.

Owen’s was in the afternoon. He was only somewhat shy. But he was most excited to check out all the names on the desks to make sure that his least favorite classmate from last year was not in his class (she wasn’t).

And then it was off to his first band lesson—a super quick half hour of how to put the saxophone together and make some noise. There were probably 25 kids just for sax alone! Our fingers are crossed that he doesn’t hate it.