The end and the beginning

We're currently in the tail-end of a heatwave here in our region of the Bay Area. For the past 2 days, temperatures have been over 100 degrees F (39 degrees C for all of you who use the metric system) with today being 10 degrees cooler (only 32 degrees C). I've been tempted to place a frying pan on the sidewalk to see if I could actually fry an egg, but I've been too physically drained to do much more than what you see Jaxson doing (and he looks a lot sexier than I do while doing it).

In the midst of this, Maddy and Teddy have been finishing their last week of school. Though they are both ready for a break from distance learning and super excited about completing 1st grade, there's an element of sadness as they want to see their teachers and their classmates. Video conferencing isn't filling that social need for either of them, resulting in a happy/sad experience as the school year closes. The added layer is I've been running trainings twice daily, with learners all over the world. I've got 2 more sessions, so the end is in sight, but it's not over.

As I've been working with both kids to wrap up the school year, I've been thinking about this happy/sad that comes with being in the middle of the end and the beginning. When the shelter-in-place orders first came out in March, no one could have imagined the world we knew would forever be changed and that we'd be entering a new normal. Though I've extremely proud of how well my whole family has been weathering this, Grey and I also have acknowledged that we're only just seeing hints of the beginning of what this new world will look like.

• Masks are now the norm, with me only not wearing one when outdoors where I can put a good amount of distance between myself and others. I don't see this changing for quite a while.
• Laptops are now are a requirement to learning, with me learning how to adapt asynchronous learning for learners with ADHD.
• Grey and I are very proud to be working for a company that is one of the first to implement testing for COVID-19. Leadership has gone to great extents to make sure all of us are safe, taking additional precautions so that Grey can continue working in the lab without fear of becoming sick.
• Additionally, I've been impressed by the community surrounding us. It's not perfect, but many are trying, working to be patient with each other, and finding ways to help one another.
• That said, we know that fear is still very high. I watched a man go into a full meltdown the other day because someone asked him to put his mask about his nose. It took a bit to calm him, as it was clear this was the final straw. 
• Earlier today, I got an email from the school district about the projected budget shortfall and the plan to cut funding despite the crisis. It hasn't fully registered how bad all of this is, but the part that has registered is already scared about what is coming as I think this will be enough to break the system,
• All the while, the news has begun focusing on social media and how there's about the be a political fight. I wonder if this will mark a change in social media as we know it.

There's an oddness that comes with being in the thick of a transition. The uncertainty and unknown for the road ahead usually initiates grief, but if one stays in the thick long enough, reflection and processing begins to happen. A lot of which I've been starting to see. People are writing about the lessons learned from this experience, reflecting on their lives from before, and facing what demons they can no longer ignore while shedding things that they thought suited them but actually don't. I love hearing about ways others are trying to come together, whether through phone calls, doing social distancing get together, spending time enjoying each others' company, etc. I also love how people are learning to love being alone, finding ways to just be without embracing expectations of "self-improvement." Not being able to escape the thick can actually be a blessing.

That said, it's still uncomfortable. And my body is ready to be done with this period, moving on to the next check-point on this new road. But I also know that despite what I want, it's not in my control. All I can do to continue to exist in this middle between the end and the beginning. Soaking in the lessons so that when the beginning comes, I'm ready.

Burnt

I cannot believe it's the end of May. For the past 3 weeks, I've been in a full sprint with teaching, creating content, and editing, all while juggling distance learning for Maddy and Teddy. Despite the end in sight for this madness (last week of school and I only have a few more days of training), I'm exhausted. Knowing that I still have a mountain of work to complete doesn't make this a good exhaustion.

Which led to Grey finding me outside in the backyard this morning, staring at these guys.

Bit of a back story, these doves moved into the back patio last summer and began building a nest. Given all the information on the internet about how difficult it is to host doves, we tried being quiet the first couple of days so that they could build their nest.

This also meant trying to keep Jaxson and Daisy inside. Given what I've previously written about Daisy, one can begin to imagine how well that one went over.

Over the next few days, despite me being very nice, I learned what crappy guests doves are. Though supposedly loving parents, they are terrible nest builders and frequently left debris scattered all over the backyard. Additionally, though I was trying to give them space, they didn't reciprocate and kept invading mine. The final straw was discovering Daisy had gotten outside and was in full hunting mode, to which the doves responded by flying to the ground within inches of her face. What should have been a blood-bath was actually her pouncing on the bird only to decide that clocking it over the head was more fun. I figured after that incident the doves would be long gone.

They were back the next morning, waking up the house.

The rest of the summer was spent either cleaning up after these birds or trying to get them to relocate. But the more we tried to discourage them, the more they insisted on returning. My kids beat their birthday pinata in front of this pair, which only seemed to amuse them. The cats regularly batted them around, only to have them show up with more material for their failed nest. And they started landing close to me, something that just left me confused. By autumn, they were gone, only having managed to put together a few twigs and (thankfully) no eggs, but it left me wondering how this species was successful given this pair's propensity to ignore danger, if not openly mock it.

So finding these two today, with both cats looking up at them with expressions of disinterest (been there, done that), all I could do was sit down and stare in defeat. And reflect how this situation mirrored so much of what was happening in my life at the moment.

To be clear, though I'm insanely busy, I am excited about the work I'm doing. There's a lot going on that is having a positive impact and I'm well aware that I'm the driving force. But part of being that driving force is also realizing that being nice doesn't get me anywhere other than frustrated and exhausted. All of which is second nature to me. What's not second-nature is saying "No" or "Not now" as I feel guilt for not doing better. And yet when I do, suddenly there's a level of respect I'm given that was previously missing. Like the doves, my superiors seem to show more interest when I'm not breaking myself.

I don't have any clue what I'm going to do about the doves. Other than to record Jaxson and Daisy interact with them for anyone who wants to scream at me about how cats are destroying the local bird population (I swear they all are scheming against me). But I do know what I have to do, which is figure out how to structure in a break after I'm done teaching next week. Otherwise, I won't be able to make my deadlines as I'll be burnt to a crisp.

#MicroblogMondays: Poolside

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Reset

Grey and I are on the tail end of an infestation. It started 2 months ago when Grey found the cockroaches had returned, which are common to the area. As Grey began his battle to rapidly reduce the population, so too began him finding other things, like the paper wasps nests that under the awnings of the house and the flies that would show up in the evenings. Then I found fleas on Jaxson and Daisy, where we learned that the local population of fleas was resistant to the flea treatment we were using. This was followed by finding the carpenter bees scoping out the backyard awning. The final straw was Grey discovering we had black widows.

The exterminator arrived the next day.

Part of this infestation reset has been a multi-step plan, both with instant eradication and prevention. The exterminator did a great job with spraying and removing any nests in order to deter reinfestation, but we've also been taking measures to flatten the curve. This has included applying cedar chips to the garden beds, being diligent about cleaning, and educating ourselves. The last part is the most frustrating as there's an amazing amount of information out there, some of which is bad, and navigate all of this is a full-time job.

With this infestation, particularly in regards to the fleas (because, seriously, who would have thought that flea prevention medication could be worthless!), I'm been finding commonalities with SARS-CoV-2 and all that we know about COVID-19. Despite months of lockdown in certain regions and promise of initial curve flattening, we're starting to see new clusters emerge as the world reopens. Additionally, there's a ton of information out there, some of it very good which I strongly recommend, but some of it harmfully wrong. Hence people are getting frustrated, wanting to see the end of this invisible force that has turned their lives upside down and frustrated that their efforts aren't being reflected.

It's hard to be in the middle of an infestation, especially when the offending population reemerges and leaves you to battle yet again. For us, the fleas have been the source of most stress with Jaxson and Daisy suffering the insult of being bathed multiple times and me tackling mountains of laundry. It wasn't until we got our hands on this new flea medication that the tide turned (and even then there was a delay), but we're still finding the occasional flea that sends both Grey and me into panic mode as all we want is this to be done.

What has become apparent, both in our work and this battle on the homefront is that there's a need for a reset. For too long fear has been driving our world, both a fear of this disease but also a fear of the unknown. We already know that this virus is going to be with us for the foreseeable future, which has added to that fear given that the end isn't in sight. The problem isn't a community call of reset, which is desperately needed; an acknowledgment of that fear of the unknown due to a pandemic that is causing economic collapse combined with a call for community action to continue taking actions to protect one another. All of which needs to be fueled with education both about this virus, how it spreads (human-to-to through droplets people, hence the need for face coverings), what the models mean and predict, and, finally, how the immune system is playing a role in developing COVID-19.  It's not just a matter of whether or not you become infected.

To date, Grey and I have won our battle against this infestation. But we also know that letting down our guard is unwise given that it could all easily reappear. With the long-game in mind, we're resetting our focus towards prevention. Something we're also doing with SARS-CoV-2.

Grit

About a month ago, I found myself with a few days to spend some time completing an online course about personalized learning. One of the speakers was Angela Duckworth, a psychologist who has spent her career focusing on helping children thrive inside and outside the classroom through understanding the development of grit and self-control. I spent a good two days diving into the Character Lab and thinking about how I could apply Angela's work both to my training as well as with my kids.

It's only been recent that I've been thinking about grit in regard to this pandemic.

This past week, California has begun taking steps to reopen and relax the lockdown. Parks have been opening, stores that were previously not considered essential business have been allowed limited reopening, and people have begun venturing out more. With this reopening, I've been seeing a couple of responses. The first, and one the majority seem to generally be practicing, is a measured one, with people easing back in while taking necessary precautions. But then there's the second response, with people not abiding by social distancing recommendations and lashing out at anyone who reminds them of these recommendations. Again, this seems to be a minority, but it exists none the less. And often those who are taking the second route are those who fall into the population that is most at risk to develop COVID-19.

Which brings me to grit. One thing that this pandemic has revealed for so many are ill-prepared for handling life-altering events. For many in the ALI community, we see this directly as others around us either minimize our pain or throw platitudes about "never giving up" while we grapple with having our lives turned upside down. For Grey and me, this pandemic has been hard, but we've approached it with the attitude that we've weathered similarly shitty things. A sentiment I've been seeing from others in this community. Yet for many, this pandemic has been the singularly most traumatic thing they've ever had to face, resulting in mental meltdowns due to a lack of tools and resources those with foundations in grit have developed long ago. There's lashing out and threats of violence from those who see regaining some level of control by refusing to follow social distancing guidelines. Additionally, there's so much out there about depression and grieving, with many struggling to grasp this new normal.

Mali had a recent post that I think gets to the heart of why we are lacking in grit when dealing with trauma. With her focus on admitting in regards to resolving infertility without parenting, the points she talks about are ones that so many could benefit from doing some self-reflection with. Because I think a lot of what is exacerbating the trauma so many people are experiencing is an inability to admit how exactly this pandemic has turned their lives upside down. It's put a spotlight on how unhappy so many are and how little control they truly have in many aspects of their lives. This denial has stifled their development of grit. And it's insanely scary to face that.

The good news is that it's not too late to develop this grit toolkit. Over the past 2 months, I've seen so many articles about processing trauma and grief as well as practicing mindfulness, and Dr. Duckworth's work has been popping into my feeds more and more, meaning this is something people are embracing outside the education world. There's a lot of good that is coming out of all of this. The question I now have is how to grow that grit, helping those around me as well as myself develop this toolkit that aids in weathering trauma.

#MicroblogMondays: Pour

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

I've been struggling. Two weeks ago, my aunt and uncle requested a phone call with Grey and me to let us know that my aunt has been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Being in this realm for so many years, Grey and I know very well the different types and prognosis for each. When she told us the type, my knees buckled and Grey let out an audible moan.

One would think that a diagnosis like this would be enough. Nevermind a diagnosis in the middle of a pandemic.

Then yesterday I got the wind kicked out of me some more. After a benign text to my aunt, telling her that I was checking in, she called me to tell me some more news. Her son has died. My uncle and aunt, in addition to navigating chemotherapy, are now making funeral arrangements during a period of social distancing.

There's a part of me that wants to cling to the fairytale that all things happen for a reason and that there is good in the end. But moments like this are a reminder that life is far from fair. There are so many good people who suffer for no good reason while others who deserve some level to snap them out of the BS never seem to get a scratch. And yet I know my aunt and uncle will be surrounded by people during this time who will try to find a reason in order to make sense of the senseless. I guess it's that part that makes me the most nervous. That instead of being there, allowing them to grieve, they will be managing others' anxieties about all that has happened. Something I'm desperate to shelter them from.

When it rains, it pours. How I wish I could be there to offer them love during this storm.

Stupid

A few nights ago, following a day of teaching, I sat down and watched "Becoming." Like many, I devoured Michelle Obama's memoir and wished I had had access to her wisdom and insight while in Boston. What stood out for me, though, was a moment where Michelle talked about going to Princeton and being thrown into the "elite" world. Particularly the point she makes about how they aren't actually any smarter than the rest of us.

I've been thinking about this a lot over the past few years during my time and then exit from the Ivy League university I worked at. I remember a particular class where the topic was on the genetics of intelligence, with all the students completely engaged as the professor spent the lecture period walking through all the research trying to determine if there's a heritable link. The answer, which disappointed them all was "it's unclear, but likely no." It's far to complex, with environment and access playing far more of a role, which is something everyone there was visibly uncomfortable with. And yet its a truth I can attest to both after working with students from all walks of life. And the pandemic has shined a glaring spotlight on it.

Grey and I are both products of the U.S. public education system, starting from kindergarten and ending with PhDs. Additionally, since undergrad, we've both lived in city environments, usually sharing walls with people who live on the poverty line. There's a lot of good that comes from public education, giving access to those who would otherwise not have it. But there's also a clear divide in quality when private options are readily available. A little over a year ago, our environment changed when I started my current position and we moved out to the suburbs to be close to work. A consequence of this move was we ended up in one of the better school districts in California, with active PTAs that make sure the schools have access to funding so that the kids can thrive. Similar to what Grey and I grew up in, private schooling isn't a readily available option here,  which results in the benefit of everyone having to swim in the same waters and, hence, people either invest or move due to the pressure for not investing.

Since the shelter-in-place orders, this advantage has become glaring, especially as we talk with Moon and Lucus about what their experiences are with distance learning on their region of the Bay Area and how much more structure Maddy and Teddy are getting. Within a week of lockdown, the district provided both kids with laptops, the teachers have been mastering Google Classroom (and giving me ideas as I set up my own form of virtual learning), with a weekly updated schedule and daily assignments that have allowed both kids to continue their schooling without burning them out on from video conference. But most impressive has been how the community has rallied around the teachers and staff, making it clear that all their hard work is beyond appreciated and supported. Teacher Appreciation Week has always been mandated in this district, but students and parents were actively encouraged to go all out, fueling the engine that is getting us through this period. I've been blown away by all of this because I know that if we were still living in our previous environments this wouldn't be happening. That the teachers would be figuring all of this out without support from the community and many parents wouldn't be able to be as invested in distance learning. It's been so shocking to see how the gaps, though there, are being minimized. It's that minimization that I want others to see so we can mandate it globally.

There's still a myth that persists in our culture that being "smart" is a fixed trait; you're either born that way or you aren't. With this assumption comes the idea that those who are "smart" should be the ones we invest in. That poverty is something people living in it deserve and those in power are superior because they have the brains. But the reality is intelligence is very malleable and what is holding most people back is access and opportunity. And the gatekeepers have very fixed ideas about who is worthy to that access, aiding to maintaining this myth. One "blessing" of this pandemic is the glaring light we have on how utterly stupid most of those in power are. Yes, we have hard, messy problems that aren't going to be resolved overnight, but one thing we can no longer ignore is that. Another blessing is those that normally can afford support and resources giving their children access are suddenly tasting lives without those safety nets. The ability to work remotely during this pandemic is a privilege, allowing many to be able to continue supporting their families that those at the poverty line don't have, but the lack of childcare and help is something most in positions of privilege don't consider. Frankly, the only ones who aren't struggling with this are completely disconnected with the 99% and it shows.

Like Michelle Obama, I've finally found the courage to start speaking out about the myth of deserving and those in positions of power being inherently "smarter." It's a myth that needs to be shattered and my hope is that this pandemic is thoroughly doing that. This now means that we have a moral obligation to do better and make sure everyone has access, not just those who can throw money at the gatekeepers. If we want to preserve the future, we need to fund it. If we want to see the end of the poverty cycle, we need to build support systems so people can permanently exit. If we want smart leadership, we need to stop promoting those who can buy access. We need reform throughout.

It's not going to be easy. Frankly, anything worth doing rarely is. And so many will resist because they have spent a lifetime in the previous mindset. But looking at the world around me, seeing the quiet and safe neighborhood that just over a year ago seemed inaccessible, I'm driven to see this change for so many.

It's stupid not to.