The week we all woke up and realized that Corvid-19 was bad.
Really bad.
As a history hobbiest, I have a problem with the inevitability of how it was written. Rome was always
going to fall. The US was always going to win WWII. Schools were always going to close last
week. But nothing is set in stone, and while some outcomes might have been more
likely, there was always a chance for something to go differently.
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| Like Oregon would give up our coastline. |
Fair warning, this post isn’t going to be quite like the
others. I can't guarantee the humor. It’ll be a firsthand account of the week everything went to heck; a
primary source, if you will. This is for all of the future historians out
there, the ones trying to piece together what happened The Week that Started
the Quarantine. #SearchTerms Coronovirus Corvid-19 “The Quarantine” 03/12/2020
03/08/2020-The time change. It sucked, but it was the mundane
kind of less-than-fun. That sudden jetlag that comes but twice a year to remind
us that even the most useless of events can still keep going. Yay?
03/09/2020-Monday. I was subbing for a Library teacher.
Things went well. The assumption was that school would probably stay open until
Spring Break, though the closure of some universities was causing some anxiety.
03/10/2020-Tuesday. Again, everyone assumed that everything
was going to stay open, but the number of subs was worrying. I myself was doing
three jobs—helping in two Kindergarten classes and teaching library. Can
someone say hectic?
03/11/2020-Wednesday. I was only in Kindergarten. The number
of subs was down, and things were returning to normal. It was a good day
overall, and it seemed like the troubles had passed. It still seemed like
schools would stay open.
I’m going to pause here to just reiterate this: even on
Wednesday, there was no reason to think that things would close. I’m sure
people of the future reading this will think we were all idiots, but all signs
were pointing to us being able to hold on for one more week—just until Spring
Break. At the end of the day, this belief was fueled by misinformation from all
sides—the Republican federal government (thank you, president Trump, for all the
reasons) and the Democratic state government (here’s looking at you, Governor
Brown). I hate when information is withheld, because inevitably it leads to
both panic and a greater distrust in elected officials if/when it gets found
out.
And there was so much more that we could have been doing
earlier.
03/12/2020-Thursday. The morning started as normal. I was
going to be up in middle school for most of the day, but checked in with our
elementary school just in case. They wanted me in the office for an hour, and I
was able to oblige. On the way out the senior admin assistant asked if I’d
heard about the governor’s announcement. As my news sources tended more towards
the national and international—I’d fallen out of the habit of watching the
nightly news—I had not. However, I quickly looked it up.
Imagine those moments in movies where the camera zooms in on
a person but the background stays the same—the Dolly Zoom (had a better video, but he swore at the end. @#$!). The moment that
inevitably means that something has slapped into the fan. Here is what the
press release said she was going to announce:
1.
Large gatherings: All large gatherings over 250 people will be canceled
statewide effective immediately for four weeks. A gathering is defined as any
event in a space in which appropriate social distancing of a minimum of three
feet cannot be maintained.
2.
Schools: In addition to previous guidance issued on March 8, 2020 to keep
schools open, all non-essential school-associated gatherings and group
activities should be canceled — such as group parent meetings, field trips, and
competitions.
3.
Workplace: Recommended implementation of distancing measures including an
increased physical space between employees in offices and worksites, limited
in-person meetings, limited travel, and staggered work schedules where
possible.
4.
Long-Term Care and Assisted Living: Strict limitations announced this week by
the Oregon Health Authority and Department of Human Services remain in place.
Three thoughts rushed through my head.
1)
What does this mean for the school auction this
Saturday? (They moved it online)
2)
What does this mean for after school activities?
(They were canceled the next day)
3)
Oh, four-letter-word-of-choice, we’re probably
going to close, aren’t we? (yes, announced later)
I cannot stress how fast this flip was. When I woke up,
everything was fine. Schools were still mostly open, events were happening, and
life was continuing as normal. Within minutes of reading the article, the
auction was canceled and the admins were having meetings. By mid-morning I got
an email, with the first sentence being:
“Okay people, here’s what I know—AND WE ARE NOT SHARING THIS
WITH STUDENTS OR FAMILIES YET!”
They were considering their options, and my subbing for the
rest of the day was canceled. By this point the kids were figuring out that
something was up—several likely already knew what was likely coming.
An hour later, it became official: school was going to close
for at least a month.
The second I got home, I found my roommate. I gave her the
scare of her life (a, “HI!” she wasn’t expecting), followed by:
“We need to go grocery shopping. Now.”
“Really? Are you sure-”
“Yes.”
And I’m glad we did. We were able to stock up on staples.
Two days later (on a trip to the store for Pi Day goodies) the pasta aisle looked
like this:
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| Huh, yet they still won't by Prego... |
When I got to school for my afternoon lessons, the students
were just learning the news and were in a panic.
“Austin,” they said, “what does this mean for the Murder
Mystery Event? Is it canceled?” To which I replied (each time),
“One, I’ll go into details in class so I only have to say it
once. Two, I’ll send out an email later with the same info. Three, you’ve known
me for six years: am I a reacter or a planner?”
“Uh…kind of both.” (beat)
“Fair point. For this kind of thing, am I usually a reacter
or a planner?”
(Without hesitation)
“Planner.”
Here’s the thing. Ever since we’d heard the previous week
that we might shut down (like a 2% chance, they said) I’d been planning for it.
I’d emailed around for my options, ran through scenarios, etc. Because of that,
while I was rushed when the time came, I still knew what I was going to do. And
that distinction is important. As of writing this right now, it feels like the
US’ response has largely been reactionary—fair point, since the last pandemic
of this scale was the Spanish flu 102 years ago (Hey, new blog post idea!). But
until we turn that corner and start really putting plans in place, we’ll always
be one step behind.
But I digress.
The rest of the school day was spent focusing on the kids.
See, I always remind myself that my time with the kids is potentially limited.
One of us could leave at the end of the school year. Would I ever wish that I’d
spent less time with them? Will I ever get a chance to get those lost minutes
back? No, so I do my best to focus on enjoying the time that we have and giving
them my all.
Now, back to our in flight movie—the evening was spent
getting ready for…
03/13/2020-Friday (the 13th [dun-dun-duuuhhh]).
This day was a rush, kind of a culmination of the rest of the week. At the end
of the day, everyone was going home. By class I was in first grade, helping
monitor the kids while the teacher prepped them for the upcoming 4 WEEKS (MINIMUM)
of remote learning; by lunch I was running like a mad-man, giving kids their character
sheets for D&D. Once again, we only had a day to prepare.
If it sounds rushed and hectic, it was—but at least the
school had a plan in place and a day to prepare. Some places only had hours—and
no plan. At the end of the day, we made it. Kids got picked up, only a few
things were left behind, and no one really panicked.
The second I got home, I flipped on the TV and turned to the
news. This is it, I thought, time to see the long grocery lines and empty
shelves; time to see scared interviews and experts going on and on and on about…
The oncoming snow. Portland got snow that weekend, and that’s
all anyone on the news was going to talk about.
I guess normalcy is—sometimes—only a flurry away.
This has been another Adventure in the Austentatious. If you
liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you don’t
care either way, then tell everybody. Peace out, happy Quarantine.
And stay healthy.
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