Navigating Joy and Survival in Seasons of a Pandemic
Tracey Flores; Jung Kim; Eliza Braden; Sanjuana Rodriguez; Sandra L. Osorio
INTRO
The five of us, friends and colleagues, came together virtually for a weekly hour-and-a-half scheduled writing time during July 2020.
Jung Kim is an Associate Professor of Literacy, a 1.5 generation Korean American, mother of two, ultrarunner, and president of her local elementary school board.
Eliza Braden is an Associate Professor of Elementary Education and Black mother of four children.
Sanjuana Rodriguez is an Associate Professor of Literacy Education, a Mexican immigrant, mother of two children.
Sandra L. Osorio is an Associate Professor in Early Childhood and Bilingual Education. She is a proud daughter of Colombian immigrants, raising her three children as multilingual in Spanish and English.
Tracey T. Flores is an Assistant Professor of Language and Literacy. She is a second-generation Chicana, born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona. Tracey is a runner and mother to six-year-old Milagros.
SPRING 2020
Rest, being home, slowing down, TRUMP
No big deal. We are staying at home to be safe. This will not last long.
We get to spend more time as a family.
Everyone must stay home. Mask when outdoors. Wash your groceries. Create your own isolation bubbles. Do not interact with individuals outside your bubble. |
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Classes online. Remote learning for kids. Struggle with this new structure. What are the kids supposed to be doing for school? How do we entertain children when being indoors all day? |
SUMMER 2020
Thinking it’s over soon, STILL TRUMP, A racial reckoning
The world bears witness.
Grief. Anger. Rage.
Breonna Taylor. Murdered in her apartment.
Ahmaud Arbery. Murdered while jogging.
George Floyd. Murdered in broad daylight.
Communities take to the streets.
Protests
For Racial Justice.
Black Lives Matter. Black Lives Matter. Black. Lives. Matter.
The academic year, a complete blur.
Pivoting from face-to-face instruction to remote teaching and learning.
Spring semester turns to summer.
Still more uncertainty for what the future holds.
Trying to find motivation
What will the fall semester look like?
Tracey’s small moments of reflection.
Third-year review in the midst of a pandemic.
Thankful my Milagros is still in preschool and can stay home with me.
Worried about my aging parents.
FALL 2020
Remote, teaching online, kids at home, no one traveling, elections
Sandra’s sabbatical canceled, no traveling to Spain
Kids home, remote learning | |
juggling 3 kids at home, research expectations, | |
Stress | |
Attending remote learning school with first-grader to support her every other morning; husband taking opposite days | |
When do I do my own research and writing? | |
No real writing getting done; feeling behind required expectations from the institution Fully revising courses to be virtual, the intense time commitment to get this done |
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Trying to meet students’ needs, when I have so many of my own needs and those of my family | |
When will this end, this needs to end soon |
WINTER 2020/21
Groundhog day, isolation, productivity
Is this the winter of our discontent?
We are so tired of being inside, alone, afraid of being with others.
The nights feel endless and the days far too short
But what is there to do anyway with our short days
Standing in socially distanced lines outside the grocery store
As if we were awaiting our food ration in war times
It is so dark
And Midwestern winters are so cold and brown and dreary |
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In the South, people protest about masks.
The sun shining cheerfully on signs screaming about
Freedom,
Individual rights,
My body, my right—but only for masks
Not for a woman’s right to choose.
Cuz a year later, Texas will take away women’s rights.
Arguing they are “Pro-Life”
While sending children back to schools
That are unmasked, unvaccinated.
And children will get sick,
And some will die.
| |
Child’s voice: | WHY won’t we see grandma this Christmas? I’m tired of COVID! |
We are tired of COVID, too. We have finished all the puzzles. Baked all the bread. Juggled remote learning and remote teaching. We work 24 hours a day now, parenting and professor-ing and wife-ing. The privilege of doing ALL the things ALL the time now. All boundaries and lines blurred between home, school, and work. Trying to have hope when the days and nights feel endless. A never-ending groundhog day. | |
Jung as school board VP | |
What will we have learned from this? |
SPRING 2021
Vaccines, hope, promises, productivity, attacks on CRT
Still teaching online, Zoom meetings all day, this is supposed to be easier, they say.
But it’s not.
Kids are in school, but I am scared. | |
Endless opportunities to engage with people online—
Webinars
Conferences
Meetings.
I sign up for everything. . . And attend nothing.
So much access, this is supposed to be easier they say.
But it’s not.
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Now kids are quarantined. . . quarantined again |
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I present my work virtually to a screen of black boxes only because. . . I have to still be productive. Still have to submit a review this year Still have to publish Still have to write | |
While holding a sleeping toddler |
Hope springs from the possibility of a vaccine. The day comes when I can breathe a sigh of relief when mamá y papá finally get the vaccine. It seems as though normal is finally here. Things will be normal. One by one, we all get vaccinated. Little did we know that we were far from normal.
And then the attacks begin. Attacks on education that seeks emancipation.
CRT.
Critical Race Theory.
Culturally Relevant Pedagogy.
Culturally Sustaining Pedagogy.
Race.
Teaching itself.
It’s on the news. Raging parents at board meetings, outside of schools, in groups on Facebook
Afraid of the truth.
Afraid of justice
Afraid of a history of hatred. That still persists in every single aspect of life
Afraid their children may know better than them
Resolutions begin
No teaching about race No teaching about racist truths No teaching at all Unless it’s nice and does not tell the truth |
In a spring full of hope, little did we know that we were far from back to normal
SUMMER 2021
Masks are/n’t political, lockdowns, Delta
Baby we made it through virtual learning Pack your bags Where are we going? Summer fun—It doesn’t matter. As long as it’s not my desk or living room. Destin, Memphis, Grandma’s house. We be vaccinated! Masks on! Let’s roll! That was fun. Finally, we see friends and family. |
Lockdowns
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Delta!
News reporter, “It appears that a new variant is now here in the U.S. Fifteen states have confirmed that all new cases have been identified as the variant known as Delta.” Masks on! |
Cases rising
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FALL 2021
Return to normal. . . or not, vaccines, uncertainty
I am not going back in the classroom Without Masks Vaccines Distancing |
Masks |
All students are encouraged
To mask and get vaccinated
But it’s a personal choice
Because. . . $$$
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Vaccines | ||
Where in the seating chart do I put the sick family members, the deceased friends? Where do I put the unceasing anxiety the existential dread |
Instructors, please complete
this seating chart
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What should we do about COVID-positive students? |
TO BE CONTINUED...
Unknown, hopeful, fearful
Yet we continue moving forward
Parented 12 kids
Ran and walked hundreds of miles
Friends, colleagues, cheerleaders,
We laughed together, cried together, held each other up
Over thousands of miles
Connected through these small black boxes
Writing comadres
We survive and thrive and keep moving forward.