Dear America,
I’ve been awake since 6 a.m. wrestling with a 37-page lesson plan from our school’s third educational app in just six weeks, so let me cut to the chase: please go home. I’m pleading with you on behalf of every parent trying to manage homeschooling right now; we cannot go through this again in the fall, so please, stay home.
I understand, Karen. You want the country to reopen. Trust me, I feel the same way! I haven’t left my house in weeks, Karen. I’ve resorted to having heartfelt conversations with my houseplants and hiding in the bathroom to scream into a towel without interruption. Every parent I know is tired of their home and their families, and we all want to escape. But you know what I want even more, Karen? To not be stuck homeschooling these kids come October.
I’m not a teacher. Just this morning, I used my phone to look up how to do long division. I can barely pronounce “hexagon.” Honestly, I’d be lucky if we emerge from this with both of my kids still knowing how to read. Parents everywhere are struggling, and we need schools to reopen in the fall. The only way that can happen is if we all STAY HOME RIGHT NOW.
What’s that, Mike? You want to return to work? Oh, I get it! I just had a conference call from my closet, Mike. I was negotiating a contract while my son yelled from the bathroom about his “strange” poop. And guess who else wants to get back to work, Mike? My child’s second-grade teacher, who is currently juggling lesson plans for 22 students while managing her own kids. This was never part of her job description, nor should she risk her life to return to the classroom with our children before it’s safe. Honestly, our teachers are underappreciated even on a good day, let alone when any one of their students could potentially be carrying a dangerous virus. Can you see where I’m coming from, Mike?
And yes, I know some of you think this is all an overreaction, Jessica. That the virus is being exaggerated to keep you from getting your hair done. I get it—my roots look terrible, too! But if I’m being brutally honest with you, Jessica, I don’t care. At this point, I could not care less about any conspiracy theories regarding my right to bleach my hair. None of that changes the reality that this virus remains a threat; it continues to keep me home with my kids, who want to listen to the “Descendants 3” soundtrack for the sixteenth time today. I cannot bear to hear that soundtrack in six months, Jessica.
Okay, let’s entertain this notion. We throw caution to the wind and reopen restaurants, shops, and beaches, and it feels fantastic for about a week. Then, Gary over there—yes, you Gary—starts coughing. He ends up in the hospital, and because we were all together celebrating, we’re all at risk. What does that lead to? Another shutdown. And do you know what that means for me, Gary? My kids will be home again for months while I attempt to teach them from a lesson plan I barely comprehend, all while juggling my actual job and trying to maintain what little sanity I have left.
Alright, I have to run. My son has a Zoom meeting with his kindergarten class in five minutes, and I think he’s locked himself in the pantry.
Look, I know this plea might ruffle some feathers. You may want to call me all sorts of names, but honestly, my kids have come up with worse over the past few weeks. So, take a deep breath. If that doesn’t help, go lock yourself in the bathroom and scream into a towel. It does wonders, I promise. Remember, we all share the same goal: open beaches, bustling restaurants, and crowded schools where our kids can be for seven hours a day. We can achieve that, but all you have to do is GO HOME, okay? Okay.