The Gift of Time

In those rare occasions when a meeting I am leading ends early, I have said to those in attendance, "I'm giving you the gift of time. What are you going to do with it?" Often it's said tongue-in-cheek, as perhaps, at most, the meeting will wrap up five minutes before it was scheduled to end. In that case, grabbing a refill for a cup of coffee on the way to one's next meeting might be a reasonable option. Yet, during this time of school dismissal, we have all been granted the gift of time.

There are certain elements of this that bother me though, most notably the equity piece. For our students and their families who struggle with basic needs, this will exacerbate those needs. Even though our district is delivering meals every weekday, and there are partner programs in the Northeast Kingdom who are supporting us, we are still struggling to ensure that every child and family in need is being reached. 

In addition, broadband internet access is not widely available in the NEK, and that limits our ability to connect and communicate with some of our families. High-speed internet access in schools is as fundamental as heat, running water, and electricity. If we are going to expect our students to make progress during this time of school dismissal, those expectations must be tempered unless we can confirm the reliability of their connectivity in their homes. 

Finally, the reality of this school dismissal is that it is causing us to work harder than we would normally work - teachers and students. During virtual office hours this week, a teacher lamented to me how much easier it would be to circulate and give regular feedback on work being completed. Our communication is limited to phone calls and e-mail, and let's face it, we all see the numbers in our inbox skyrocketing. And if we can step back for a moment and reflect, there is another facet of this school dismissal. For me it is time. 

I cannot remember the last time the four people in this house ate dinner, at the table, without rushing off, this many days in a row. Typically, we have practices, games, clients, and board meetings. Or there are student exhibitions, musicals, sleepovers, and parties. In addition, we have AAU out of state tournaments, 50th birthday celebrations, vacations to visit family, and holidays to travel for. But not now. 

Now, we eat together every night. We play Texas Hold Em and Pitch. I lose to my children daily in driveway basketball. We walk five miles along with the dog. I exercise every day. We meditate as a family. I can have an uninterrupted conversation with my wife before we are both sitting in bed exhausted at the end of the day. 

Yes, this is harder. On almost every level this is harder. There are real public health concerns, we must continue to practice social distancing and cannot cheat. Even a little. 

Hopefully, we will not face this again in our lifetime. Hopefully, we learn from this experience. Hopefully, we begin to treasure the small interactions we took for granted before this started. 

I already see the growth. My boys' relationship is deepening, from the driveway basketball court to their banter watching videos together, to their workout routines in our basement. Coffee in the morning with my wife is not a luxury, it's a daily reality. Cooking together as a family is not foreign, it's an expectation. Outside of our family vacations, I don't know when I'll get this time again with all of them, like this. 

With very limited notice, we said goodbye to the routines and work schedules that defined how we spent our minutes in our days. Our worlds shrunk to the square footage in our homes, with the people who normally scatter to various places, spending all of our time together. The expectations have expanded, with legitimate questions about how to manage them equitably from a distance. And still, I return to the question I posed at the beginning: 

We've been given the gift of time. What are you going to do with it? 

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