He that writes to himself writes to an eternal public. -Emerson

Saturday, March 27, 2021

Pandemic planning-A year in

A neighbor's tally, outdated daily

Here we are, a full year into the COVID Pandemic. The US has seen far and away the most deaths globally, thanks to the criminally inept handling of the situation by the previous anti-administration and, it must be noted, the fundamentally anti-social ethos of personal freedom that many Americans cling to, often at significant personal cost. But even in places that have taken a more structured and sensible approach to addressing the disease, the experience has been tragic and the virus continues to challenge societies and economies across the world. But what has it been like for us?

Marin County has been less hard hit than many places, and, of course, the disease has been concentrated in the poorer areas, which is to say not where we live. Still, the disease is widespread even here, and we have had a couple of close calls ourselves. The food bank where Talia volunteers (located in the poorest neighborhood in Marin) got hit, so she got tested...negative. A good friend of Gid's got it, so he got tested...negative. Near neighbors were struck, and a couple of "hey, turns out I had been exposed when we last met, so, socially distant as we were, I thought you should know" missives had us waiting nervously for an update. But there's only so many times you can have a "got tested...negative" before you get a "got tested...positive" missive, and it is still the case--no, much more so the case--that you don't want this disease.

And yet we have never isolated rigorously for much longer than a week or two at a stretch, even when the statistics were most threatening. For us, the desirability of strict adherence to stay-at-home orders was counterbalanced by the very real need for our children to see their friends and, once it was possible, to return to school. As soon as the "hybrid" (two part-days at school; fuller description here) option became available for Felix, he jumped on his bike and restarted his face-to-face relationship with teachers and fellow students; the impact on his mood, even on days when he studied remote, was unmistakable. Gid, whose school already offered that option but whose specific teacher did not, then insisted on changing classes so that he, too, could get some of that delicious in-person time. And this despite our luxurious home accommodations for young learners.

Felix's cubby and makerspace

As of this Monday, Felix is back in school full time, and Gid will go likewise a couple of weeks from now. This is a fortuitous return to normalcy, especially considering that their cousins across the Bay and friends in the city are 100% remote and have been the entire time. On the whole, I'd say the boys are no worse for wear, with their learning slowed but not derailed, and their social networks, thanks to a steady diet of networked Minecraft sessions and socially distant D&D and MTG, intact. Indeed, the experience, in the long run, may even prove beneficial: I wish them carefree lives but I am not betting on it, so judge this a valuable lesson in adversity.

The pandemic has been more challenging for Talia, who is the most social of us all and driven to care for others. While her family takes quite a lot of care, we are not always as gracious or gratifying as we might be in recognizing it: until recently, the all-family-all-the-time experience has been frustrating for her. Frustrating, too, was her long job search, which the pandemic obviously did not facilitate. Except that, in the end, it did: on the very same Monday I began my new job, Talia heard about a role administering mass vaccination sites; that Tuesday she interviewed for the position and on Wednesday she took it. Thursday she returned home from work with her first vaccination, and the job has, for the most part, continued to give her renewed strength each day since then. The pandemic, thus, has given Talia both an important outlet for caring and what I am predicting will prove to be a new career trajectory. She surely wouldn't choose to repeat it, but, I think, she may come to see this year as a transformative and ultimately positive one for her.

Then there is me, for whom the pandemic has been worrying but, from day to day, almost optional. My work life pre-COVID had three modes: on Zoom at a desk in my bedroom, on a laptop in a local cafe or library, and at the office running from one meeting to another. I enjoyed the variety, and missed it when options two and three went away. But my productivity has hardly been affected, and my earnings not at all. Recently, I managed to engineer a change in role that is energizing and even better suited to remote work; it may even be that being away from the office facilitated that. I have never looked to work for my social life, which for the most part consists of time spent with my bestie. That time was preserved, and while I hunger for a good party I do not otherwise feel unbearably deprived socially. I have made progress with my projects--home improvements, blogging, saving the world--and at least not lost ground as a parent.

One hesitates to say it, but on the whole it has been a good year. And yet what a relief it will be when it is over.