“Yesterday, we were talking about the virus at lunch, and then today, we can’t go back to school. I don’t get it. I want to see my friends again, Mommy. I miss going out!” Those were the heartfelt words of my eight-year-old daughter as I tucked her into bed recently. I held her close as she cried, her small frame heavy with sorrow. Eventually, she calmed down, and after a while, she drifted off to sleep in my arms.
This isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed my child grapple with such intense feelings of loss, and I fear it won’t be the last.
I often hear how resilient children are, a sentiment I initially embraced with fervor. For several weeks, I clung to this notion to maintain my own sanity. However, as the reality of our situation sets in, it becomes increasingly difficult to believe they will emerge from this experience unscathed. Watching my once joyful daughter succumb to despair has made me acutely aware of the significant academic, social, and emotional repercussions this pandemic is having on our children.
While my kids aren’t okay, I acknowledge they are still in a better position than many. We have a home, food, and the technology needed for remote education. Unfortunately, many children face far more severe challenges: limited access to meals, inadequate learning tools, or even living in abusive environments without support. Some are mourning the loss of loved ones due to this terrible virus. Yet, even in our relative comfort, my children are struggling.
Each of my kids copes with this situation differently, revealing the varied ways the pandemic affects them. My son, nine, has severe ADHD, presenting a unique set of academic and social hurdles. In contrast, my daughter is an academically typical eight-year-old.
The learning gap for children with special needs is stark and undeniable. They are not receiving the essential support necessary for their success through distance learning. My son has specific requirements outlined in his 504 plan to help him learn effectively. Unfortunately, these needs cannot be met in a home setting, especially by a parent untrained in special education. Despite our efforts, and those of the school, his carefully constructed goals in academics, social skills, and therapy are being neglected. Children like him thrive on structure and routine, and distance learning disrupts that foundation. Only time will reveal the long-term impact on his development.
But it’s not just atypical learners who are feeling the strain. My daughter, though capable, lacks motivation in this online learning environment. She enjoys subjects like math and reading, but the allure of the classroom dynamics—interaction with peers and teachers—drives her enthusiasm. Learning through an iPad screen has proven challenging for her; without the reinforcement from her teacher, she merely goes through the motions, lacking genuine engagement with the material. While she may retain enough information to pass, her connection to the learning process is fading week by week.
Both my children are experiencing social isolation. The elementary and middle school years are crucial for honing interpersonal skills. After mastering basic sharing and turn-taking in preschool, the development of strong friendships during these formative years requires practice that’s now limited. Social interactions have shifted online, which brings a host of new challenges. One child is beginning to withdraw, showing little interest in virtual chats, while the other struggles to understand social cues conveyed through text. FaceTime cannot replace the richness of in-person interactions, leaving all kids feeling somewhat lonely and craving genuine connections with friends.
The emotional toll is evident in our home. My once-bright daughter has lost some of her sparkle. She no longer greets each day with enthusiasm. Instead, she moves through her daily routine in a mechanical way, like a groundhog waking to the same day repeatedly. Where she once found joy in school and activities, she now frequently calls me while I’m at work, expressing how much she misses me and asking when I will return home. My son, filled with anxiety, was recently upset when my husband ventured out for groceries at night, convinced the risk of infection was higher in the dark.
Neither child grasps the reasons for our prolonged stay-at-home situation or when it might conclude. This uncertainty breeds anxiety that pervades their thoughts.
So, no, my children are not okay. All I can do is hold them closer, offer more hugs, answer their questions, and calm their fears. I can only hope that when this is over, the scars left behind will be minimal. For more insights on navigating these challenges, you may want to check out this helpful blog post or explore resources on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, the pandemic’s impact on children is profound and multifaceted. While some are adapting, many are struggling emotionally, academically, and socially. As parents, it’s crucial to recognize these challenges and provide support as best we can.