Resilient…

This summer gave me glimmers of hope that finally - after months and months of quarantine, and anxiety at peak levels, and cancelled plans, and missed trips, and the impossible juggling act of work, virtual school, etc. etc. - we were finally getting to the other side of “this”… this “new normal” that had literally changed everything. But as we approached the start of school, it felt like we were not only right back where we started, but might even be worst off. In our region of the country in particular, COVID cases were peaking just as they had been at this very same time one year ago. Still, I held out hope that my son would enjoy a semi-normal school year, could leave his homeschool days behind him, and experience all the parts of school that are so exciting and fun for kids, and aren’t exactly possible in an online setting.

But a week in, my husband and I decided to pull him out, and tackle virtual learning with him… again. Despite my optimism that this year would be… different… it took a handful of class shutdowns within the first few days for me to not only realize that wasn’t the case, but to also lose all confidence that our district, and his school, would be able to provide him with what I felt would be the safest learning environment possible. They - like many other districts and schools across the nation - were (and still are) caught in a crossfire of politics, and logistics, and lack of resources, and staff shortages, and mask wars that - in my humble opinion - have caused them to lose sight of what really matters at the end of the day. And unfortunately, making the needed changes to mitigate the spread of COVID, and keep everyone safe, doesn’t look like something that can or will happen in the near future. Constantly operating in flux is something that just doesn’t gel well with my type-A, semi-control freak self - and when I feel lost in “all the things” I try to focus on what is in my control to keep me somewhat sane - hence the decision to keep my son home - at least for now.

That said, I am once again grappling with the question - “How resilient are kids… really?” And even if the answer is “incredibly resilient”… does that mean - no matter the event - they always recover? They always forget? While I’m no psychologist, I have never subscribed to this idea that you should be able to withstand any amount of trauma just because you want to. Just because you are “strong”… I’m an adult and I’m certain I will have a bit of PTSD after all of this is said and done. And to try and trick myself into thinking my 6 year old son won’t - because he is “resilient” feels… silly. Believing resiliency is this innate trait that doesn’t have to be continually nurtured feels… convenient.

And in my mind - when I think of resiliency - at least in the context I have heard it used about a thousand times during the pandemic - it feels a little like an easy out. When it is used as this finite, end-all, be-all “kids-are-resilient-so-we-don’t-need-to-tap-into-their-emotions” guise, that feels inaccurate. Like a half truth. I believe children are resilient - yes. But I also think it’s important to acknowledge what happened in the face of that resiliency. Do children adapt easily, or do they do what they think they have to? Are they unaffected by unpleasant experiences? Or do they just pretend to be? I tend to believe that bouncing back in the way that one does when they are “resilient” doesn’t mean the experiences and the emotions they evoked will be forgotten. And I - personally - don’t think that’s a bad thing.

I want my children to feel. I want them to feel comfortable expressing their emotions. I don’t want them to fall into this toxic thinking that suppression, or a lack of “war wounds” = strength. And I try as much as possible to lead by example. So when we told my son our plans to pull him out of school, I cried. I didn’t try to hide my feelings. I told him the truth… that I hate this for him and I wish that things were different, and I also showed him - by way of my tears - how this bit of reality made me feel so he felt comfortable sharing how it made him feel. While I never want to project my feelings or emotions onto my children, I do want them to know that emotions are okay. That sometimes things suck, and that’s okay too. Life is not perfect, it’s filled with good and bad moments that are meant to shape who you will ultimately become. And resiliency doesn’t just mean pressing forward despite life’s trials and tribulations, but to do so in spite of them. To acknowledge and appreciate the emotions those moments evoked so they can add them to their arsenal.