Enjoy the Great Pause,
But Don't Forget the Great Fast Forward
Phil Herman is the superintendent of the Hudson (OH) City Schools, which neighbors my district, the Nordonia Hills City Schools. Phil has been a friend and colleague for more than 15 years, and he is also one of the best superintendents I have ever known. (You can follow him on Twitter @philherman).
Phil also is the president of the Akron Area School Superintendents’ Association; I am his vice president. At our virtual meeting this week, Phil shared part of an article, written by Julio Vincent Gambuto, that hit me hard about the impact of COVID-19.
It read:
I hope you might consider this: What happened is inexplicably incredible. It’s the greatest gift ever unwrapped. Not the deaths, not the virus, but The Great Pause. It is, in a word, profound. Please don’t recoil from the bright light beaming through the window. I know it hurts your eyes. It hurts mine, too. But the curtain is wide open. What the crisis has given us is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see ourselves and our country in the plainest of views. At no other time, ever in our lives, have we gotten the opportunity to see what would happen if the world simply stopped. Here it is. We’re in it. Stores are closed. Restaurants are empty. Streets and six-lane highways are barren. Even the planet itself is rattling less (true story). And because it is rarer than rare, it has brought to light all of the beautiful and painful truths of how we live. And that feels weird. Really weird. Because it has… never… happened… before. If we want to create a better country and a better world for our kids, and if we want to make sure we are even sustainable as a nation and as a democracy, we have to pay attention to how we feel right now.
How do I feel right now? In a word: torn.
This Great Pause has given me time like never before. My 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. hours are busier than ever, but never in my career have I been home every evening with no meetings to attend or events to cover. We have had dinner as a family literally every night, maybe for the first time in our 26-year marriage, and my kids are grown, so I do not have to worry about homeschool.
I’ve taken up guitar, something I have been wanting to do for years. My fingers hurt, but I’ve learned the D, A and E chords, and hopefully will be able to play some James Taylor or Cat Stevens songs before long.
I’ve started running again. Well, sort of. I have technically done one session of a couch-to-5K app, but it’s a start.
And I am getting caught up on Netflix and getting pretty good at Mario Party.
But at the same time, I have a keen understanding of my privilege. I’m still getting paid from my job as superintendent, and from the two universities where I teach graduate classes. I’m not in danger of missing any bill payments, I have plenty of food on my table, and nobody in my family is sick. And I am not arrogant enough to think this is all do to my hard work. Yes, I work hard, but I’ve lived my life with an undeniable amount of privilege based simply on where I was born and the family I was born into.
So, while I feel in many cases gratitude for the Great Pause, I also know many people are yearning for the Great Fast Forward. So many people are losing work, losing pay, losing loved ones. The stress of trying to balance educating kids at home while staying caught up at work is overwhelming. The pain of losing loved ones to the virus, or being unable to visit sick family members, is devastating. While I can look at this time and enjoy the Great Pause, so many others are dreaming for the day that they can have their jobs, their lives, their families back.
So, for me, the mission becomes clear. Those of us who have the privilege of enjoying the Great Pause need to do all we can to serve those dreaming of the Great Fast Forward. As educators, if we can make life easier for our families, we need to do so. That might mean math takes a back seat for a night. Or two. Or a month. It might mean making financial donations to food banks. It might mean making protective masks for those in need.
It definitely means showing empathy and compassion for those who are less fortunate than us.
More important than making sure our kids don't miss any curriculum is simply making sure our kids are OK. Families should feel no pressure or stress that they have to get all of the content covered. We will get to the content in good time. Instead, we must keep doing what we can to make sure our kids are safe and unafraid and see that parents who may be facing illness or job loss or wage cuts don't feel overwhelmed by any expectations we are imposing on them.
If you would like to read the entire Julio Vincent Gambuto article, be advised that it does get political and uses some profanity.
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