We first got the announcement that school would be closing for three weeks on Thursday, March 12, at 11 p.m. It shocked everyone: teachers, students, and parents weren’t expecting any closure, let alone almost a whole month’s worth; my peers and I were ecstatic.
Soon after that, it was announced that school would remain closed for the rest of the year, and almost the entire second semester was to be completed online. And so, in the span of only a few days, coronavirus had gone from just another news story to something that had affected every part of my life.
For the past 11 years of my life, the routine of school has been the same. Now I was faced with the task of forming my own new normal in a way my parents or grandparents never had to. It took weeks of adjustment (procrastinating, sitting around aimlessly, watching an exorbitant amount of That 70s Show, and eating an ungodly amount of Fritos) but after a while, I found a routine that offers some semblance of self-defined structure.
8:15 is usually around the time I wake up, when I would be more than halfway through first period if I was in school. I grab a box of cereal, sit on the couch, and try to catch up on all the things I’m too busy to read during school: right now, Confederacy of Dunces.
At around 9:15, I finally hoist myself off the couch and get ready for the day. It took a few weeks to really get the ball rolling, but I can now happily say I’m constantly getting dressed every day, rather than moping around and occasionally changing from pajamas to different pajamas.
At 10:00, I start FaceTiming a few of my friends to do schoolwork together. Although it’s different in every district, my school gives work from one or two classes every day, which are to be completed over the course of the week. And so, in an effort to hold one another accountable, we FaceTime every morning while doing that day’s assignment.
By around 12:00 or 1:00, I’ve finished the work for that day and end the call to go eat lunch. I make something for myself because my parents are, more often than not, working, and take a rather extended lunch break.
3:00 is the time I start to feel guilty for sitting around for so long, and it’s this guilt that normally allows me to get something accomplished later in the day. For the rest of the afternoon, I do whatever I need to: complete work for my college English class, which is also online, or study for the AP exams that are, somehow, still scheduled for this May. If it’s nice out, I might ride my bike on the trail near my house or walk my dog (although this is occasionally scrapped in favor of Mario Kart.)
Dinner is usually ready by 6:00, during which my dad always finds a way to ask, in some way, what my plans are for the next day. When I respond that obviously I’m not doing anything he laughs as though this isn’t the third night in a row he’s made the same joke.
After sitting around for a few hours, I FaceTime with a friend for the second time to work out at 9:00. Like the schoolwork, FaceTiming a friend is the best way I’ve found to be held accountable and motivate myself to do something. In this case, getting in some significant form of exercise so as to not become quite as morbidly obese during this time as I otherwise would.
By 11:00, I’ve finished working out, taken a shower, and gotten ready for bed. Although I will sometimes make the intelligent move to go to bed and establish a reasonable sleep schedule, not having to catch a bus at seven in the morning makes it a lot easier to stay up later than this.
And so, I continue that every week day (or at least I have for the first week of online school.) Overall I think myself, and young people in general, have been able to remain fairly calm and collected through an admittedly scary situation. If I could offer any piece of advice to someone worried about the pandemic, it would be this: only worry about what you can control. You cannot control our country or the world’s response to coronavirus. You cannot discover a vaccine, or decide when to reopen the restaurants, malls, and offices of Michigan.
However, you can be as safe as possible and practice social distancing to the fullest extent to which you are capable. You can be conscious of the many people that have it worse than you, and do everything in your power to help them. And, most of all, you can choose how you spend your time, energy, and thoughts. You get to decide whether to view this time as a crisis or an opportunity; an opportunity to take a break from the stress of school or work, and do something with what will probably be the longest amount of time you ever have off in your life.
There are amazing things that can be done in this time: you just have to make that choice.
Zoe Thomas is a sophomore at Portage Northern High School in Portage, Michigan, and is a Hoppin and Andrews Elementary alum. Zoe is passionate about political science and journalism.
Any views or opinions expressed in this piece are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the Watershed Voice staff or its board of directors.
