School's out for Summer: So What Now?

After three full months of remote learning, the long-awaited last day of school finally came. Like any other year, my children counted down to the end of term. Unlike previous years, this was done from the relative luxury of an air-conditioned home instead of an over-heated classroom. Those sweaty bodies that usually walk through the door, eager to strip off from their day wear and straight into bathing suits for water fights in the yard with the garden hose, barely got dressed during the last week of term. As parent friends posted images of their children wearing their best outfits holding signs marking the end of their school year, my two daughters agreed to let me take a photo of them in their pajamas holding the laptops that they’d been tied to for the past 14 weeks. But only on the solemn vow of a pinkie promise that it wouldn’t find its way to any social media site. The end of remote learning had arrived and – at least for now – we could enjoy the summer vacation.

It didn’t take long for us to realize that this meant another adjustment as we navigate the pandemic. Like the end of school, the start of summer was a bit of an anti-climax. No more Zoom meetings or assignments to turn in, but nothing to fill the gap left behind by them either. The general excitement that usually accompanies the start of summer is severely lacking. Calendars that are typically filled with day camps, days out, and a return trip to visit family in England, hang blankly on the wall as 10 empty weeks stare back at us.

Before I go any further, I understand that this is a good problem to have. We are fortunate to have a safe home, good medical cover to take care of us if we should become ill, and we are financially stable. Many people face a more challenging summer than us. My husband and I both volunteer our time and give back to communities that have greater needs than ours. We remind ourselves and our children regularly to be grateful for what we have.

As a British family living in America, traveling to England every year is a big part of who we are. Weeks of planning goes into filling a spreadsheet with breakfast, lunch, and dinner dates with immediate family, close friends, and the odd social gathering to ‘catch-all’ and make the most of our time in England. We sleep briefly in multiple beds to share ourselves with both sides of the family and take hundreds of photos to capture this time. We make every minute count because that is what we have to see us through another year until we are together again. It’s crazy, chaotic, and we wouldn’t change a thing.

As of now, it’s six months since our children saw their grandparents when they came to visit us, and a year since they’ve seen their aunties, uncles, and cousins. My niece is expecting her first child. I remember the moment she was born when I ran from the office to the hospital to meet her. Because of the travel restrictions, I won’t see her during her pregnancy or for some time after her first child is born. These are the events that can’t be postponed until next year. These are the real costs to our family of the pandemic.

So what now? With everyone being forced to adopt the new ‘stay-cation’, what do we do with ourselves? Not unlike many other families who have become screen dependent during home learning, we are trying to hit the reset button on devices and are going back to basics. Thankfully, everyone in our family loves to read. Our town has a great independent bookstore and our public library is open for curb side pick-up. Some of our regular activities are starting up outside at a suitable distance - my youngest is having karate lessons in the parking lot of her club – and we are getting creative for others with lots of use of outdoor space. We are trying to use this as an opportunity to reinvent ourselves. To remind ourselves that we can do without all of the scheduling that we’ve become so entrenched in. Who knows what it will bring?