Day 4: The Week the World Went Home
March 4, 2020 — It was a Wednesday.
There was a tension that permeated my world. Yours, too, more than likely.
I live in New England. We are used to weather that forces us to stay home.
The forecasts, often wrong, but sometimes right, predict blizzards in the winter months.
Back in 2015, there were three consecutive snow day Mondays. I remember this vividly because it was the year I was taking Data Analysis, a required course in my EdD studies.
Statistics and math are not my strengths.
In fact, I have not had a formal math course since I was in the tenth grade. I exempted out of math in college by taking (College Level Equivalency Program) CLEP tests. I must have scored high enough to fulfill my university’s requirements. In retrospect, it would have been useful to have a basic math course. Maybe something for learning to budget, balance a checkbook, complete a profit-and-loss statement, consider mortgage rates.
My Data Analysis professor, Dr. Carifio (who used the pseudonym ‘vinnie dummerino’ for email communication with the class — an attempt to assuage the anxiety of his students while giving a nod to the John Travolta character of the 70s TV show ‘Welcome Back, Kotter’) came into each of our Monday night classes wearing basically the same costume. Long-sleeved black t-shirt, black trousers, slightly disheveled hair, and an infectious confidence that aided all of his students — myself included — in absorbing enough of his references to ‘sigma’ and the ‘test-retest reliability.’
Even today, looking at my notes from that year, I feel anxious.
In the midst of these snow-days, I sent my professor the message below:
From: Bernadette Stockwell
To: vinnie dummerino
Sent: Sunday, February 1, 2015 2:06 PM
Subject: Data analysis
Hi Dr. Carifio,
I’m trying to work through the chapter readings and pull together the concepts but I’m feeling profoundly lost. (Occasional glimmers of insight, but…) I’m hoping that I’m not hopeless but I’m a bit overwhelmed.
How far down the rabbit hole should one attempt to go?
On Feb 2, 2015, at 5:17 PM, vinnie dummerino wrote:
hang on until class tomorrow; we need to find you a couple of study buddies.
If this is all new to you, it is very common to feel overwhelmed with the first unit as there are so many concepts and details and then relating them all together.
Be thankful that there are glimmers!!!!:) and count your blessings …but it is a lot to start assimilating at once if it is all new to you which is why some of it should have started happening last semester to give you longer lead time.
So get that online video of that rabbit who was buried in the snow and presumed dead and popped up on top the drift two days later and hopped away:)
The power of positive imaging.
Waiting for a blizzard — this is a shared anxiety that permeates the region.
The waiting. The not knowing.
The grocery stores profit. Our local market opens early the days before a storm so that people can stock up.
Not unlike how people started hoarding toilet paper, flour, yeast, bottled water, hand-sanitizer, disinfectants.
Even today, one year later, the feeling persists.
We still don’t know when this will end.
We are hopeful. We’ve made progress in thwarting the disease, but we do not know for sure if we will eradicate the virus.
In the college classes, I tried to keep my students on track. But the week before spring break is a lot like the week before Christmas. There’s so much potential ahead. Plans, yes, but also uncertainties.
Students often go away. We’ve all heard about the unruly parties and escapades in sunny Florida, Southern California, and other warmer climates.
Some students go to do charity work for organizations like Habitat for Humanity.
Some just need to go home and rest, recover, relax, and reunite with friends.
The Wednesday before our break in 2020 felt calm, but not.
Today, March 4, 2021, my father-in-law would have been 99 years old. What would he have thought of COVID?
Bryce was a ‘show up and work’ kind of guy. Always a proficient do-it-yourselfer. AND always willing to give a hand, share his meal, and share his love for his three grandchildren.
I cannot imagine him wearing a mask, and yet, I’m sure he would have complied to mollify his children’s and grandchildren’s pleas for his own safety and the safety of others.
One year later, we are holding our breath a little bit less but we are still clenching our teeth behind two layers of masks and washing our hands.
