AAP Voices Blog

As I clean the kitchen for what feels like the millionth time this week, I look over at my three children who are helping with an unusual level of cooperation for teenagers. They seem quiet, contemplative and somewhat resigned tonight. 

As many parts of the country are experiencing a spike in COVID-19 cases, my children are once again bombarded with the same uncertainties they faced back in April: Will I ever go back to school? Will I ever compete in my sport again? Will I ever hang out with my friends again? 

At the start of the lockdown, our family focused on the positive and frequently discussed the need for personal sacrifice for the greater good. Within a week, we created a schedule of controlled chaos involving distance learning, online sports practices, and Zoom conference calls. We enthusiastically embraced things we never had time for pre-pandemic: family game night, calls with extended family members, and distanced yard conversations with our neighbors. We were part of a countrywide effort to curb the infection and we were “walking the walk” of putting the needs of the community over self.  

 “We all have to choose a community mindset to have a chance at getting back to what we value most: our normal lives.”

This scenario also included many moments of disappointment, anxiety, and sadness. We grappled with the sudden disappearance of junior-year recruitment sports seasons, the loss of the freshman-year college experience, and the cancellation of milestone events that were to mark the end of middle school. My children went through the process of grief for the first time with the death of their beloved grandfather. 

My husband and I accepted these sad circumstances as ways to improve our family’s resiliency. Modified school and sports resumption became the far-off goal that would mark the first steps back to the familiar. 

Unfortunately, the increase in COVID-19 cases in many places may eclipse any realistic chance of sustained steps toward normalcy. Our family’s sacrifices sometimes feel all for naught and the daily debates that politicize public health policies such as social distancing and masking sound tone deaf because they never offer a better alternative.

At its core, the call to go back to in-person school, when it’s deemed safe to do so, by the American Academy of Pediatrics is a call to our country to make normalcy for our children a priority. “Normal” means getting back out on the practice field, talking to friends in the hallway between classes, getting special educational support, and having access to a healthful lunch every day, which is something many students lack at home.

The harsh reality is that we cannot begin to address these issues without getting the total numbers of infections under control. The possibility of not opening schools in the fall or failing to keep them open for a sustained amount of time is becoming the more likely scenario.

There are so many factors of the pandemic that are out of our control, and uncertainty is the rule, not the exception. Many recommendations have been debated or changed, but two have remained steadfast during our tumultuous relationship with COVID-19: frequent hand washing and social distancing. The importance of masking in public areas is clearly being seen by the dramatic increase in infection in sectors of our population that have chosen not to participate. 

We can’t control the behavior of those who have disregard for others, but as pediatricians, we can urge our patients to wear masks to help control the spread of the virus. We can also set good examples for our children by wearing masks, continuing to encourage social distancing and being vocal cheerleaders of actions that exemplify respect and caring for others in the community.

Every person is part of a complex social network made up of parents, grandparents, teachers, co-workers, and friends who are young and old, healthy, and chronically ill. They are all vital and important. We all have to choose a community mindset to have a chance at getting back to what we value most: our normal lives. For my family, that will mean sitting on the sidelines of soccer fields in the blazing sun and waiting through a four-hour gymnastics meet to catch a glimpse of my girls performing for less than two minutes.

 I can’t wait to safely get back to that normal.