“Supposed to”
We were “supposed to” go to Sioux City to see our new niece. The beautiful little Winnie was in Iowa for the weekend and we were going to get to meet her for the first time. At first, the plan was she and her parents were “supposed to” come to our house, but plans change when babies are involved and so we were planning to head to them.
Well plans change when babies are big too.
Socially, the last couple of years have been hard. When school was first called off in 2020, it was kind of exciting. We buckled down, found tons of online learning resources, built living room forts, Mo Willems was our afternoon doodle buddy. The boys were so lucky to have amazing teachers who were checking in online. Sam had sporadic zoom activities with his class. Ben had a read-aloud with his teacher in the afternoons, sometimes I would take my lunch and listen in because a break from – here you do this engineering experiment, and you read this history article while I listen to this lecture and we will reconvene when we are all done and discuss – was so restful. Listening to someone read a piece of fiction I wasn’t going to be asked to dissect and just enjoy it, felt unbelievably nice. None of this was a normal social situation for any of us however. But, we thought it was temporary. We will do this for a few weeks. a month. or two. it’ll be fine.
As it drug on, it began to wear on all of us. We were home with one another. We were taking walks, taking time for Facetime and zoom calls. Talking to neighbors from a distance, a little. We felt a little shaky around the edges. Then plans started in for schools to return in the fall. It seemed fine at first. Administration had a plan, they needed help rolling it out, they put together a committee. I was on it. Things quickly started to unravel during our first meeting. As we were discussing on zoom how the roll out would go, the chat along the side bar was being filled by a couple of people who had clearly laid out a plan to take over this meeting with their own agenda. No one saw this coming. Looking back it was naive not to see it. Looking back we had been living for a long time in a world where a system worked based on rules being followed and if you didn’t like the rules you worked to change them. The system needed work and had a LOT of cracks, but that was how it was done. Communicate, mediate, negotiate. No one thought we’d be blindsided by people who said they loved the system so much they would break it. It was like a husband telling his wife he was going to have to start punching her in the face until she acted how he wanted, you know, for love.
So instead of rolling out a logical plan and safely trying to get the kids back to learning, focus turned to a divisive and volatile fight amongst parents and quite frankly community members who had very little skin in the game, but a whole lot of loud opinions – and what seemed like less and less thought about how this was actually affecting the people they were claiming to protect, kids and teachers. Meanwhile the kids were playing the waiting game “just a little longer”. That one that never ends.
Situationally and obviously, no one was prepared. In our house as in most houses, we did the best we could with the information we had. We stayed in our tight bubble. We tried to be patient. The contact with the outside world was small and distant. 6 feet apart, masked with barriers. It was scary to be near people. Ben went to a new school building which changed his grade count from about 75 kids, to about 500. He was barely in contact with the friends he knew before, now he was “supposed to” be meeting and making new friends, 6 feet apart, masked with barriers. Ragged parents, frightened and anxious kids – not the greatest combination.
Please don’t misunderstand me, we were advocates of staying home as long as necessary to keep everyone safe and healthy until we all could be vaccinated or whatever scientific information was uncovered and understood so that we all knew we were keeping each other safe and out of harm’s way. We knew too many people suffering to contribute to the spread. But socially, mentally, emotionally, spiritually – this physical contribution to stopping the spread took a toll. When in March of 2020 we were holding out hope we still might take our trip in April, we cancelled that, and hoped we still might get back to school, we held out for summer activities and it drug on and on for two years and in places is still going… We feel it. It hasn’t stopped, collectively for any of us. The hard part to understand is that for some the world didn’t stop. The divisiveness I felt in that meeting that I fought in subsequent Return to Learn meetings, I ended up on the other side of most of the people I was surrounded by. I felt that deeply. Our family felt that deeply. In isolation, we felt even more isolated.
Socially, the last couple of years have been hard.
Fast forward to this summer and Ben was a bored teenager. His friend groups had changed. He was out of the loop. I was taking some time to be with the boys and rest. I had taken a step back from most everything to reassess what I wanted to take on. I was tired from all of my yeses leaving me feeling either burnt out or just plain burned. You could often find us looking slumped and tired, picking through our days. Jeff and Sam had a summer of baseball. We had a summer of waiting and watching. I was at a turning point having just graduated. Ben kind of was too, starting another new building, with new opportunities for activities and friends.
On our road trip, I witnessed little moments that gave Ben some confidence boosts and he started seeing himself in a new light. We went to meet the teacher and I had this strange feeling that the tide was turning. I was feeling more optimistic. I told the boys so. This year was feeling different.
As school started, it continued. Sam’s teacher is brand new and has great ideas, an experienced team and teacher mom. He has a lot of friends in his class and supportive school family. Ben found a variety of friends, and a couple of the longtime steadfast ones who are sticking around, who let him very much be his weird self. He joined a bunch of activities he originally said no to but through renewed confidence, reconsidered.
Last weekend, when we were “supposed to” be in Sioux City meeting our sweet little niece, we were sitting at a very cold, very wet Homecoming game. The eighth grade band played the Star Spangled Banner 20 minutes early so we were standing outside the stadium waiting to get in and missed it. They canceled the rest of the songs they were “supposed to” play for the night as the rain would destroy the woodwinds. We were crushed and headed home, telling Ben, he could stay – social activities he has added to his repertoire: attending football games, going to the park with friends, hanging out at coffee shops (my kid? – yep). Disappointed, wet, cold and hungry – we tried to figure out what was next.
Ben called a little while later for a ride home for himself and his friend. We listened to music in the car, picked up pizza, and talked about all the fun traditions the different band sections have that he learned about from the high school band. Ben was thrilled with his night. And really excited for his eight hour Saturday show choir practice the next day. This was a totally different kid.
All of the “supposed to”s in that moment, washed away.
We were so humbled by Ben’s enthusiasm. He was a kid, in the middle school band, excited about playing his instrument. He was at a football game goofing around with his friends. He was going to sing AND dance (seriously?) in a room full of people with confidence – I did show choir in high school but I was scared out of my mind and show choir in this town is a BIG deal. My big, funny, intelligent, loving kid was finally sharing himself with the world. God I was so fucking happy.
In that moment, I remembered we’ve been working so hard to be good people, good parents, on our mental health, on keeping our family active and learning, and well – for this. Not the “supposed to”s, but to show the world the real, wild, fun, creative, intensely beautiful beings we can be – so we can fulfill that purpose we believe in – to put some good into the world while we are here.
(And we are very much looking forward to meeting that sweet niece next month when we go to Colorado.)
