As I drove Luca to school one morning (and before he switched my NPR station to the “Crazy Fun in the Morning Show!”) I caught the end of a story about a panel of experts recommending anxiety screening to adults aged 65 and under. An article in the New York Times says the recommendation “highlights the extraordinary stress levels that have plagued the United States since the start of the pandemic.” Duh. But then, suddenly, we were listening to this guy from that show that everyone’s watching being interviewed by the crazy morning hosts of whatever blah blah blah. I tried to get Luca’s attention by wishing him a great day, but as soon as we pulled up to the sidewalk, he was off--blending in with dozens of other children heading into their school building. Where they would be educated, happy and safe. Right?
We have to drop our kids off at a place that historically has been a protected place of teaching and learning, but has now become the latest potential mass murder site. Added to churches, movie theaters, festivals and grocery stores.
Stressed? It’s a wonder we’re all walking upright.
I returned to Annie’s and grabbed the cup of coffee she made for me before jumping into the shower. She goes into work every day against conventional wisdom (mine). I was going to hang out at her house to make sure Charlie (the dog) got out a few times and be available to go back and pick up Luca after school. All my work is portable so I opened up my laptop, checked my to-do list and sat happily at the kitchen table ready to get some work done. And then a thought hit me: how do parents do that every day? Drop their kids off at school like that…like it’s nothing. Like it’s 1950. Like it’s not stressful. I sat immobile for a few minutes allowing the stress of that realization travel through my body, threatening to hijack the rest of my morning. Send me back to bed or to playing mind-numbing games on my phone. (Not Wordle, that’s a mind-amplifying game.)
Stress can operate in the background; without our consent or consciousness of it. How else can we pick up something for dinner at the grocery store or head to the movies on a Friday night? How can I drop off my grandson at school? How can I even think about maintaining a part-time teaching job while my daughter undergoes cancer treatment? How can I even go outside? It hasn’t just been the pandemic--it’s everything.
Every week I give my students a 5-minute free-write with a prompt, from which they write whatever is on their minds. (I get some doozies!) Recently, the prompt was, “The thing that’s going on in the world that I can’t stop thinking about is . . .” Most of the responses I got had to do with racism, inequality of the sexes, concern about abortion rights, violence, race and violence, the divisiveness in the US and the world, and climate change. These are the same students who look like they’re so disinterested in even being in class that I have to remind them that being on their phones the whole time is not appropriate. I admit I was surprised to get such topical and earnest responses, but it made me realize how much is on all our minds and how we all deal with it differently.
Dropping off Luca at school is an occasional thing for me; I don’t have to stress about it on a daily—hourly—basis, unless I want to. Annie’s cancer is a daily stressor, but even as such, it’s one I have to manage; put away while I develop lesson plans, grade papers, write essays, make dinner, be engaged with my husband and friends. I’m worried about the divisiveness in our country, the war in Ukraine, the idiocy of (some) politicians and the changing climate, too, but I must prioritize my stress. And make sure my body can handle it by taking care of myself. Because I have a feeling stress isn’t done with me yet. There’s more on its way.
I don’t need a screening to know that.
You seem to transfer your anxiety onto the page of which mirrors many of our own thoughts! Keep at it, it helps us all!
You might not agree, but you have innate buoyancy, even though at times you feel flipped upside down, you’re still afloat. It’s an amazing thing.