Day 76 - Volunteering

I started my new volunteer position.  I'm working with a Mexican man in his seventies who wants to be a citizen.  We are studying civics and English together through videoconferencing.  This is my first experience teaching someone whose English is so basic, and it is a good challenge for me.  At this time when there is so much pain in America, it feels both strange and gratifying to be talking about founding principles.

Day 75 - Protests

Protests are continuing across the country in response to the death--the murder--of George Floyd.  There are no words for the horror.  Ordinarily, I would feel compelled to join the protests.  But the danger of Coronavirus keeps me home.

I watched on television what was happening at the White House, 12 minutes away from me.  It was riveting.  I watched as protesters and a line of Secret Service police officers gripped either side of parade barriers in a vicious tug of war while the crowd hurled projectiles toward the White House.  It was terrifying.  I was shocked that police did not strike out at the protesters.

People stood so close to each other with masks often dangling off their faces.  In the hours that I was watching, I never heard a single commentator note that there was a threat of superspreading of COVID-19 due to the thousands of protesters gathered in cities across the country.  People are angry, justifiably angry about racism and so much more  The unemployment.  The poverty.  The lack of a social safety net.  The inequities are laid bare.  It's going to be a long summer.

Day 74 - Vocabulario de la Pandemia

When I read Harry Potter in Spanish, I learned vocabulary related to witches and wizards.  I can tell you how to say magic wand and goblin and scar.  Now I am studying Spanish with Guatemalan tutors via computer during the COVID-19 crisis and am learning how to say curfew and quarantine.  Today I learned that there are two different words for masks.  A mask that covers your entire face is a mascara.  A mask that you wear over your nose and mouth is a mascarilla.  

Day 73 - Muting

I miss asking my students how they are doing and hearing their voices without telling them to unmute themselves first. 

Day 72 - Stories

I spent a part of day 72 looking for stories.  I've asked my students to write narratives about their own pandemic experience.  I want them to incorporate research to help explain and investigate their experience.  And I'm trying to find exemplars for them.  I want them to focus on the world and their world, to reflect, to question, to analyze.  I'm fascinated by the ideas related to COVID-19 that they are considering:  

• Mental health and self-isolation
• How will we prepare for future pandemics?
• How will the pandemic affect places of entertainment such as amusement parks, movie theaters, concerts, etc.?
• Disney
• The pandemic’s effect on the environment worldwide
• How do the lifestyle and risks of the pandemic relate to service in Iraq?
• Anti-lockdown protests
• Socializing via Zoom
• Life during quarantine
• How people will interact in the future
• Baseball and the pandemic
• Effects on health care workers
• Scientific evidence in Covid-19
• Working in a restaurant during the pandemic 
• Coronavirus stigma
• Grocery shopping
• Video games
• Ramadan
• Baseball
• Shutdown
• Small businesses
• Controlling the virus in communist China vs democratic America
• Relation between Bible and pandemic

It makes me think about my story.  What is it?  I guess I try to tell a little bit of it every day here on the blog, but what will it look like when I shape it up and revise it?  Shouldn't I try to do just that if I am asking my students to do so?  I've always liked writing about things as they happen.  Sudden memoir appeals to me.  But how will I shape these memories into a coherent narrative?  How will any of us?

And what am I expecting from my students? That's a great question.  I should be able to present them with some kind of clear rubric so that they know what they are supposed to be doing.  I keep trying to find a perfect example of what I am imagining, but I'm struggling.  Partly that is because all of the current published narrative writing is so immediate that it doesn't include a lot of research.  But partly that is because I want to be flexible, to allow students to investigate their own authentic experience.  I'm curious to know how they are making sense of their current experience.  I'm curious about their curiosity

I have a whole master's degree in this kind of writing, but I don't think I have ever asked my students to do it before.  It's hard to distill three years of study into one short paper.

Day 71 - Gas

In honor of the beginning of Week 11, I got gas for the first time since this started.  It took me 71 days to go through a single tank.

Day 70 - Reading

It's not that I don't read the news at all, but I read it out of the corner of my eye, squinting at the headlines and skimming paragraphs to get the big ideas, rarely reading an article start to finish.  I try to ignore politics.  The man in charge told us to drink bleach.  What more could I possibly need to know about him?  He's so atrocious that there is no sense in getting exercised over his classless attacks and grandiosity.  I just look to November.

And the numbers of dead grow.  Why track them daily?  It's self-preservation, but at what point does that attempt to keep myself from being exposed to the overwhelming tragedy turn into callousness?  The New York Times' Sunday front page spoke to that danger this week with their tribute to the nearly 100,000 Americans who have died of COVID-19.  Just a simple list of 1,000 names, ages, and places with small, telling details lifted from their obituaries, a relentless gathering of vibrant people who have been lost.

It's easy to remove myself from what's happening because that is precisely what I have been asked to do.  Stay home.  The very morning that grim roster of names appeared on the front page of the NYT marked my 70th day in self-quarantine.  After skimming the NYT front page that remembered the deaths of tens of thousands of Americans, I spent the morning reading a new cookbook.

I have been reading books with the same strategies that I use to read the news--moving my eyes over the words and retaining just a little.  I have trouble concentrating.  I have started at least 7 books over the course of these past 70 days, but nothing has stuck.  I've tried kids' books, funny books, apocalyptic books, books I have already read, books people have given to me, books everyone likes.  I got a couple of hundred pages through one book and then just trailed off.  This trend is particularly noteworthy given that last year I binged on books in a way I have not done since I was a little kid.  I read 1-2 per week, gobbling insatiably as I stretched out in the bathtub.

But on the morning of day 70, I opened a cardboard box that the Amazon fairy had left outside and lifted out a tome of a cookbook that I have been eyeing for months:  How to Eat Everything Vegetarian by Mark Bittman.  And I read.

I started on page 1 and read all of the advice about how to stock my pantry and how to use a knife.  I read details, minute details.  I read dull details.  I retained them.  I read more dull details.  I read them hungrily:

To measure dry ingredients, follow the 'spoon-and-sweep' method:  use a spoon the put the ingredient in a dry measuring cup of the size called for in the recipe, heaping it a bit over the top.  Then rest the flat side of a knife or spatula on the rim and swipe the excess off the top.  Resist the  urge to dip the cup in the container holding the ingredient; it does make a difference to how much you get.  For measuring spoons, fill them with the ingredient and use the same swiping technique to level it off.  fill measuring spoons to capacity with liquid.

I knew this.  Of course I already knew this; my mom taught me.  But the simple, reassuring poetry, the conversational exactness of it is so compelling.  I can't bring myself to read the articles about all of the people who are going hungry without jobs as the virus ravages the world, but I can focus on how to put my flour in a spoon.  But not for long.

I moved on to the next chapter.  As people die and go hungry, I sit next to the window, looking out at my petunias, enjoying the morning sun and skimming a few suggestions about some about various ways to add grains to salad.  

Day 69 - Just a Nice Day

Trying to get used to what a nice, slow day of summer involves during a pandemic.  If I am sorely tempted to go out into the world given the sunshine and the long days, I fear what others who are less convinced of the importance of social distancing are going to do.

Day 69 was sunny and a tad hot.  I sat outside and listened to Harry Potter in Spanish while reading along in the Spanish translation.  I went for a walk with Beth.  I cleaned.  I talked to the cat.  I yearned to be waiting in line for an hour to enjoy drinking sangria with my friends at some outdoor seating at a restaurant.

Day 68 - Concession

Two months ago, I laughed at my student who wrote that she was concerned about missing her eyebrow waxing appointment.  I am no longer laughing. 

Day 67 - Realization

It doesn't matter how many activities and Zoom sessions I pack into my days.  When the sun goes down and the news comes on, there's still a pandemic.  It waits.  It lurks around the edges, lunging into my peaceful little world.

Day 66 - Another Victory!

My students are writing persuasive essays regarding whether they think we should return to campus in the fall.  I invited the president of NOVA to come speak to them about it, and she came!  It was exciting for students to have a window into decisions being made that have such a powerful effect on them.  It was rewarding.  Now here's hoping their essays are strong . . .

Day 65 - In Which We Talk About Groceries Again

Pivotal day here in self-quarantine land.  My Whole Foods ordering and pick up experience could not have been easier.  I placed my order on the computer in the morning, picked a time, and drove over.  On the way, I checked in (with some feature that allowed me to turn my location on so they knew when I was coming).  I pulled into a designated spot.  A woman asked my name, and then she put my groceries in the car.  And I drove off.  There were only a couple of things that weren't available.  Almost everything was there!

It's thrilling that I will be able to peruse a recipe, get the goods (without wondering if they are all going to come), and cook within a 24 hour period.  Feels life changing.  The first thing I made?  Pre-packaged veggie sushi.  Mmmmmm.  

Day 64 - Victory!

I was nervous about tonight's class--very.  But it went really well!  I was prepared; students were engaged.  It is a challenge to keep students' attention during any 3.5 hour class, but during a Zoom session it seemed impossible.  But I think I managed to pull it off.  I am hopeful for the rest of this summer class.  I have a lot of work to do, but I'm learning some tricks.

Day 63 - In Which We Talk About Groceries

I used to talk to my friends and family about where they were traveling.  Now, we talk about grocery adventures as though we are describing our voyages to foreign lands.  Where did you go?  How was it there?  What did they have?  What did you buy there?

I'm pondering some curbside pickup at Whole Foods, but there is so much to consider.  Will they have items in stock?  Will I accept substitutions?  Will their delivery be safe?  Will I actually be able to get it in a timely fashion?  The thrill is genuine and maybe a little pathetic.

Day 62 - Summer

Today felt like summer outside.  The windows were wide open, breezes blowing.  I wasn't relaxing with a book as I would have preferred, but I finally got into a groove with planning my class.  Hours and hours slipped by while I concentrated fully.  It felt wonderful.  The past few days I had been feeling a bit resentful of all of this work I have to do when I would rather be traveling, but today fit just right.  

Day 61 - Under Pressure

Jimmy Fallon and the Roots released a video of "Under Pressure."  I got hooked on it, partly because it is fun to watch, but partly because I am definitely feeling under pressure.  It seems a ridiculous challenge to teach a 17 week class in 5 weeks to begin with.  But with the added stress of it being a full class of 27 students, as well as having to meet via Zoom for 3.5 hours twice per week (with only one day between to do homework) it is quite a challenge.  I had much of it planned, but once I realized how many students I have, I had to scrap the whole course and start fresh.  Eek.  

Day 60 - Planning

After spending weeks dreading having too much time on my hands after the semester ended, I am now feeling pressed for time since my summer classes begin on Monday.  I had thought that I would end up with small classes and pass a leisurely month and a half guiding them personally through their writing assignments via Zoom.  So I'm scrambling a bit to figure out how I am going to teach 25 little boxed faces staring at me through the computer.  And also how I am going to teach a 17 week class in 5.5 weeks.  And also how I am going to sustain students' attention for 3.5 hours at a time two times per week.  At night.

Day 59 - Nightmare

I dreamt that I finally went back to teach in person--and I showed up to class without a bra.

Day 58 - A Medal

I had a tough month in January, and at the end of it, I declared, "I deserve a medal!"  And my friend Beth awarded me one. 

It's a weighty medallion that declares "1st PLACE" with five raised stars on one side; the other side is emblazoned with "WINNER" beneath a trophy.  It hangs by a broad red, white, and blue ribbon.  It has its own velvet bag for safekeeping, but I prefer to have it out hanging around my apartment so that I can admire it.  This is no dollar store medal.  It's legit.  And I won it, fair and square.

But it seems that January 2020 was just a warm up for the rest of the year, and I'm not quite done earning my medal.  Neither are you.  Still, I have come to wear it on special days when I need a reminder of how tough I am.  And today is a special day because I have submitted my final grades (with the exception of one pesky one).  But still, it is hanging around my neck.  I will soon fix myself a drink and celebrate.

I'm #1.

Day 57 - Please End, Semester

One.  More. Day.

Day 56 - The Mall

When I told a friend I was meeting L at the mall, she started to scold me for violating social distancing without realizing that I meant The Mall.  L and I had a windy, chilly, sunny, beautiful walk—6 feet away.  Wide paths mean lots of room to steer around people.  The Smithsonian buildings, the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the Capitol Building--all stunning.  Even the White House looked pretty.  It's strange to see all exercisers moving around and no tourists meandering.

Day 55 - Offerings

My friends and I exchange treats when we see each other.  Sometimes they are bringing me groceries I've asked for as they kindly aid me in my self-quarantine.  But often we trade a little bit of whatever we have cooked or some small gift. Here, have some of this pasta salad I made.  Here, I baked this banana bread.  Have some.  It doesn't replace a hug, but it is so nice to give and receive a little something.  

Day 54 - Mail

Correspondence has long been a source of joy for me, and I find that lately when I am feeling off-kilter and aimless, I drag out my two boxes of assorted unsent cards and postcards and sort through them, considering whom I should write to.  On day 54, I stacked up some mail I had recently received, turned on some episodes of Community that I had watched years ago, got out my lap desk, curled up on the couch, and started to scrawl greetings and thank yous.  There are so few things right now that are guaranteed to delight, but mail is one of them.  I have kept every card that I have received in the past 54 days and now have quite a collection on the wall.  Each offers a little spark of happiness, and I recall the thrill of opening the envelope and knowing that someone was thinking of me.  

Day 53 - Grooming

Today I showered, shaved, and donned a dress.  Trifecta.

Day 52 - Just A Perfect Day

The song “Perfect Day” by Lou Reed has been on my playlist for the past couple of weeks. I realized today that it makes me a little sad when I hear it. It’s a slow, little gem of a song about a day of rest that was dazzlingly unremarkable.  Today I removed it. 

But then I had a sort of perfect day in quarantine. It was unremarkable really. But I got a lot of boring chores done, cleaned my house, cooked soup, laughed remotely with people I love, did some work, took a walk, got a book as a present from my mom,  took a bath, pet my cat. It was round and satisfying. 

Day 51 - Talking to Strangers

I just spent a couple of hours on the phone with customer service representatives for Priceline, attempting to get a refund for my flight to Jordan for a trip that I was planning to take in July. It should have been infuriating because in 5 different phone calls, I got 5 different answers of how to resolve my situation.  But it left me only mildly miffed because it felt so novel to be able to chat with strangers.  Other than lifting a hand in greeting to every neighbor I pass on my walks, I haven't made small talk in weeks.  Tomorrow I'm going to call my health insurance company, and I'm sort of looking forward to it.  Strange times.  

Day 50 - Walk

Day 50 (and week 8) began with a walk outside in the May sunshine while talking on the phone to my best friend.  It made the whole day better, start to finish.  The day before, I went on two separate walks with different friends.  These were live, though we were masked and separated by the appropriate number of feet.  Although there was a defined distance between us, there was a closeness, too, as we admired flowers and houses and found new paths together.  And this was also a good day.

Walking is how I socialize now.  Walking and standing around outside people's houses.  

When I restarted this blog just over 50 days ago, I knew I would be walking alone in a new way.  I have definitely been moving my feet a lot more than I had been.  I am grateful for that and for so many things about this time.  

Day 49 - Summer Cometh

This song by Jimmy Fallon called "Starting to Crack" seems to sum it up nicely. 

After 7 weeks of completing the end of the semester via Zoom, sticking to my carefully prepared schedule, I'm starting to worry about this upcoming summer when I won't have as many responsibilities.  I'm dreading it, actually.  I'm grateful for all of the stability in my life, but I'm going to have to impose artificial structure to keep myself productive.  Easier said than done.  I have one more week with some student interaction, a week off, and then (hopefully) a summer class to attend to.  I'm working on doing some virtual volunteering with refugees and taking some online Spanish language lessons, too. 

What else?  All suggestions welcome.

Day 48 - Gaming Peapod

There's a game to online grocery shopping.  Set the alarm for 1am.  Throw items in cart, check out quickly so that you can reserve a time two weeks in the future.

Then spend two weeks curating the items in that cart carefully, lovingly down to the last possible moment the night before the delivery, all the while recognizing that you are unlikely to get all of the items you ordered.  If I order the expensive coconut milk instead of the cheap coconut milk, will it come then?  What about if I order two expensive and two cheap?  Better to have too much or not enough?  It's easy to get overzealous.  No small bags of oranges?  No problem.  I'll order a big bag.  And that is how I ended up with 8 pounds of oranges yesterday.  Oops.

Day 47 - Outbreak

I've had trouble concentrating on reading for the past couple of months, even before I started to self-quarantine.  Every time I settle down in the tub with a stack of books at my side to try to get started, I end up on my phone scrolling through Facebook.  I'm too distracted.

I'm still depriving myself of news, though it feels a bit more natural to avoid it now.  I skim the newspaper for the headlines.  I've been staying away from NPR and watching only a few minutes of Anderson Cooper each night.  (I was frustrated that Anderson was missing earlier this week but forgave him his three day absence when I learned he had just had a baby boy).

Last night I wanted some entertainment.  Better Call Saul kept me busy for weeks, and I just watched the weird cultural treasure that is Tiger King.  My friend D has given me an extensive list of quality films to watch, but I didn't feel like I could give them my attention either.  I crave a long, long book that I can immerse myself in, but that takes a commitment and enough focus to get involved with it.  I have toyed with the idea of The Stand by Stephen King, but do I really want to spend my leisure time reading about a fictional pandemic?  That seems like self-torture.  But it's oddly tempting.  Nah.  I don't usually revisit books, but I thought maybe that would be a good approach.  I tried to get started rereading BFG by Roald Dahl book.  That didn't take either.

So I just gave up on the idea of distraction altogether and scoured Netflix for a movie about pandemics.  Screw my delicate media blackout.  Bring on Hollywood.  I'm all in.  I watched Outbreak.  I spent two hours immersed in an exaggerated depiction of a virus escaping into the world.  Even telling you what happened won't ruin it for you because the whole thing is so bad to begin with.  In the dizzying conclusion, Dustin Hoffman and his crew needed only a few hours to locate the one monkey who could help them that was wandering around in suburban America using a five year old as bait, then helicoptered with daredevil stunts back to the militarized town that had been quarantined, used that host monkey to produce a serum, tested it, administered it successfully, and intervened in a military plot to bomb the infected town.  Dustin also got the girl.

Even though Outbreak was a ridiculous movie, it made me feel slightly better.  Partly that was because of the happy ending, which I gobbled up despite the improbability of the whole adventure.   Sure, there were a lot of bodies, but there was joy at the end.  The world seemed neat and manageable.  Moral.  There were capable, committed scientists flinging coffee at white boards in frustration.  There were evil government agents who were punished in the end.  It was tidy.

Maybe I do want to read The Stand?  Maybe instead of hiding from my complicated feelings about the state of the world, I should immerse myself in them.  That approach has worked for me in the past when I have been in traumatic situations.  Why not now?

Day 46 - The Fall

I'm preparing to teach a synchronous class this summer.  It will have an appointed Zoom meeting time twice per week for 6 weeks.  The class is scheduled to meet 6pm-9:30pm on Monday and Wednesday nights, but I won't be able to hold their--or my--attention for three and a half hours.  I'm imagining alternative ways to conduct the class.  It's an interesting challenge for this brief moment in time.  I'm planning to have their writing assignments relate to their recent experiences during Coronavirus.  Whereas this semester's students I had already known personally for 8 weeks before we went virtual, my summer students will be completely online.  I won't be able to engage in small talk with them in the same informal, trust-building way.  That's a little frustrating, but I can shrug that off.  I'll find ways to manage for this snapshot of time.  Ultimately, it will probably make me a more creative teacher.

I've been idly wondering what fall would look like for me and my students.  One day, I was startled to realize that I would likely have to wear a mask while standing in front of the classroom.  I imagined having to make sweeping pantomime arm movements to get my point across since I couldn't rely on facial expressions.  It is hard enough on Zoom when students' cameras are blank; picturing a room full of assorted masks with eyeballs above them staring at me seemed uncomfortable.

But it turns out that masks are not going to be my problem.  I was shocked to learn yesterday that there is very little likelihood that I'll be teaching in a classroom at all for the rest of this calendar year.  Over the past few weeks, I had mused that maybe we would not return to campus in the fall, but I still felt unprepared to hear it from our college president in an open meeting yesterday in which she explained that barring some great scientific advance, those of us who teach subjects, such as writing, that don't require a hands-on experience, will not be starting the semester on campus.

That was jarring. Planning a 6 week summer class to meet entirely online seemed novel, but the idea of continuing to stay in my apartment through the end of December?  That is a lot to take in.  It's overwhelming to imagine being by myself for that length of time.  If Day 46 feels long, imagine what day 146 will feel like?  Or 246?  Will I self-quarantine until January?

I feel grateful that I have the opportunity to stay home and take care of myself and my family.  But wow.  Just wow.

Day 45 - Tea on My Computer

I spilled tea on my laptop during a student conference today.  I cursed, ran for a towel, and started to panic that my most important work tool was going to be destroyed.  After some time with my hair dryer, the computer is fine, but it got me thinking how spoiled I am.  My biggest worry at work is having an accident in which I lose access to a computer.  I don't have to worry about having access to personal protective equipment that will save my life.  I'm so grateful to these health care workers who are putting their lives on the line day after day.