Talk to Your Kids
Alison is a 12-year-old girl from Canada. (Name changed for privacy.) Over the weekend her mother, a middle school principal, replied to my post about the emotional toll of the pandemic and sent me Alison’s poem about her experience (shared here with enthusiastic permission):
It’s been a year since the pandemic ended
yet my scars cannot be mended
Every breath people take is a risk in my head.
I only feel safe when I’m in my own bed.
The worst part of it is—it seems to only affect me,
when my friends can just move on so effortlessly.
Every breath people take seems like a threat,
every time I go out it ends in regret.
It’s been a year, why can’t I just let it go . . .
Why can’t I just go with the flow?
What’s wrong with me? Why am I like this?
Everyone else just seems to live in bliss.
I notice every breath, every laugh, every hug, every kiss
I remember when life was simpler—that I miss.
"Everyone could be dangerous" is what my mind keeps telling me cause that’s the story I was fed for so long
Everything is a threat and everything could go wrong.
I try to contradict myself but each time I fail because I notice every detail.
It’s been a year, why can’t I just move on?
I guess because it was a part of my life for so long.
I want to put this in the rearview mirror and leave it behind
Tomorrow's a new day so I guess I’ll give it the 366th try
The kids are not alright. After a year without in-person school, many kids are not only lagging behind academically, but—as Aliyah tenderly expressed—they are anxious, uncertain, and grieving.
Of course, some kids have benefited from certain aspects of pandemic life. Introverted adolescents, for example, have enjoyed somewhat of a heyday with peer pressure and parties on hold. Children who missed their oft-traveling parents have enjoyed more time to connect (and commiserate) with mom and dad. Sleep-deprived and over-scheduled kids have had opportunities to rest, relax, and reset their alarm clocks and expectations.
But let’s face it: there’s no silver lining for kids being out of school. There’s no joy to the smorgasbord of screen time they’ve consumed and endured over the past year. It’s simply not healthy for kids’ bodies and minds not to be connected with their peers and growing their intellectual and social skills at school.
I once was a student like you. (Here I am learning about viruses in medical school in 1997!) What got me through all those nights at the library were the relationships with my classmates, teachers, and professors.
I am now a mother of three teenagers. I also have adolescent patients. Each of them is suffering in unique, unmeasurable ways. Even the most well-adjusted child can't not be affected by the lack of routine, absence of normal contours of the day, and social isolation. It’s normal. And it’s terribly sad.
Even if your child isn’t overtly distressed, the pandemic no doubt affected his or her health in some way. For example, just like my adult patients, my adolescents report difficulty concentrating, motivating, and completing tasks without the regular rhythms of the school day. Without as much physical activity, many teens—like their parents—have gained weight and lost strength over the past year.
Kids have also suffered opportunity costs. They need teachers not only to populate their brains with information and facts; they need their mentorship, friendship, and—for some kids—a safe adult to talk to. They need coaches and school counselors and interactions with school staff to grow their unique set of skills, voice, and sense of independence.
The good news is this: teachers are getting vaccinated. And even when unvaccinated, kids are safer from COVID-19 when surrounded by vaccinated adults. Schools are starting to reopen for in-person learning. But it’s still too slow. In some areas, fear—not facts—is driving the decision not to fully reopen.
I think we can agree on a few basic tenets:
Teachers, staff, administrators, and kids deserve to feel safe at school,
The science on mitigating COVID-19 transmission is abundantly clear and has evolved to only require three feet of distance instead of six feet,
The vaccines are marvelously effective at cutting COVID cases rates, hospitalizations, and deaths,
The CDC is taking its sweet time to update its guidance to reflect the evolving science on risk mitigation to help schools reopen,
It takes resources, political will, elbow grease, and LOADS of teamwork for schools to reopen, and not every school has these luxuries, and
Not all schools should reopen, for example when they cannot mitigate risk in the ways the science dictates.
Last night I was lucky enough to talk with Professor Emily Oster, PhD, on Instagram Live about these very issues: from the hard data about reopening to school safety elements to the mental health burden on our kids.
The solution? There’s no one-size-fits-all prescription, but it begins with schools opening their doors. Getting kids back to their natural habitat will gradually allow for social and emotional healing, but it’s going to take time, patience, and individualized attention from teachers, parents, guardians, and pediatricians working together.
Some kids will jump right back into school. Others will need more time to adjust. Some will long for the slower pace of the pandemic.
But each child—like every adult—should have a conversation about his or her unique pandemic experience, socially and emotionally, and discuss what feelings surround the back-to-school transition. From free-floating fear to unbridled joy, they no doubt will have some emotional experience about reentry.
If you haven’t already, it’s worth sitting down with your youngsters to help them acknowledge the last year, take stock of what’s happened, sort through their thoughts, and plan for the bumps and benefits that lie ahead.
And if they don’t want to talk? Talk to them anyway. Even if they claim they aren’t listening, they’re still ingesting your calm, rational voice as you name, normalize, and offer help navigating their mixed emotions.
Kids are extraordinarily resilient—more so than adults. The good news for you parents? The bar is low. Simply offering your ear and a safe, non-judgmental space is sometimes all they need. (Until they need your car keys.)
Thank you, Alison, for sharing your wisdom and vulnerability. You are stronger than you think.
I will see you later this week. Until then, be well.