Choosing Online School

              Decisions are hard and sometimes the decision-making process is the worst.  I am really good at seeing both the good and bad of any decision, which means I am really good at debating with myself.  When I have an important decision to make everyone can see I am distracted as I go back and forth in my head over and over again.  I also ask everyone I have ever met for their opinion, pray about it, meditate on it, and agonize for a while.  It’s not that fun.  But once the decision is made, as long as I know I came about it through good honest struggle, I feel much better.

              Lately life is full of hard decisions. One of those is the decision about sending the kids to school.  I definitely stressed about this.  I can easily see both perspectives.  If you would have asked me one year ago if I ever would send my 1^st and 3^rd grader to online school I would have assumed you knew nothing about me.  I am a huge believer in public education.  Honestly, I think all of the difficult situations our country is in point to the importance of a larger investment in public education!  But, life happens and we make decisions as best as we can and just try to keep up.

              My family decided that keeping the kids in remote schooling is the right decision for us.  I realize this is largely because I work a flexible part-time job which can mostly be done from home and so I am able to do this.  My oldest really misses school but he is such a sweet kid and serious thinker and he supports our decision.  My kids are doing great academically and we find ways for them to be social that we feel are safe, like an outdoor class at the Catamount Institute or social time with church friends after our outdoor worship service.

              There are several reasons we made this decision and several reasons that could have pushed us the other way.  One of the hardest things about the decision is the judgment.  Some people think that anyone being cautious these days is “living in fear” which conjures this image of us hunkering down with bags of rice and cans of beans with all the doors locked and curtains drawn.  I actually am not actively afraid of COVID (although like so many others I have my moments) because I know I am living in a way that minimizes my risks and the risks to my loved ones, like my mom who is very high risk for multiple reasons.  I realize I am doing my best so worrying won’t help.  But I know people have their strong opinions and think we are ridiculous because we see things differently than they do.  That will always be the case.

              The decision is also hard because of my FOMO.  A few weeks ago I deleted Facebook from my phone.  It was bumming me out for multiple reasons but I realized all the pictures of people partying without masks, going to large gatherings, and generally living as though this isn’t a thing were leaving me feeling like an outsider.  It’s a strange thing to see two very different worlds happening simultaneously. It also made me sad to read everyone’s posts about how awful online schooling is for them and how it isn’t working and they are all sad.  I totally get it.  Even with our very workable situation it gets hard and frustrating.  I miss my independence; I miss seeing the kids make new friends and hearing about their independent experiences. And I am constantly yelled for all day long to help find school supplies or address a technology issue or some other reason, but there wasn’t much encouraging on social media for those of us planning to stick with it.

              These days can be lonely for so many of us and we all seem to be pretty good at making this a more lonely time for each other by adding judgment, pressure, and projecting our own insecurities onto anyone who will bear them.  I have no judgment for people returning their kids to in-person or people homeschooling; I have seriously considered those and could have gone either way.  This is new for all of us, and it will one day be over. 

              A few weeks ago, as I was right in the middle of my indecisiveness, I was talking to a wise friend from church.  She has lived longer than I and is better at seeing the long view of things.  I said I was worried about the kids missing out and feeling alone.  She said, “They aren’t alone. You have all of us.  This church is your community and we love you and we love your boys and we are all here with you in this.”  She wasn’t telling me what to do, she wasn’t shaming me, she wasn’t mocking my amazing ability to make mountains out of molehills, she was just being with me.  And I felt less alone.