Aitkin High School looked like a desolate wasteland on my way in today. Plenty of parking in a lot that has shrunk substantially thanks to the piles of snow tipped me off that this is going to be a slow day with very few students. The long walk along the brick wall to the North Doors of the school still concentrated the wind and provided a bite before I thankfully reached the doors and hustled into school, unsure of what the day would hold.
That uncertainty seems to have permeated all aspects of life, but many things are the same. My co-workers still have the same sense of humor despite all of the weirdness that surrounds us. That is probably good and presents some sense of normalcy to the few students who are here, but nothing is really normal. Our directive as teachers is to have a “normal” school day today. That’s hard when there were three students in my first period and zero in my second period. We watched The Mandalorian just to give us something to do.
I wonder why these students are even here, but really it doesn't even matter. Whatever the reason, we will do what our students need because that is just what we do.
Yesterday we spent some time in classes that were half full talking about what has transpired and what is to come for students. They seem to be taking things in stride, though it is abundantly clear that they are watching us. They see how we are responding as adults and are looking to us for guidance in how to act, though it may not seem like it. They are aware of people hoarding toilet paper and other goods, which sparked some discussion in class. I conceded that I bought toilet paper I didn’t need, causing some raised eyebrows that seemed to say, “Et tu, Henke?”
I then explained that a good friend of mine who takes care of his elderly mother and son was down to his last two rolls and the hoarders had cleared the entire Brainerd/Baxter area out of toilet paper. After suggesting that was because Brainerd people are idiots unlike the calm and reasonable folks in Aitkin, I offered to pick up a pack at our well-stocked Paulbeck’s County Market and deliver it to him. My friend would do the same thing for me.
These are the kind of stories I think our children need to hear at a time like this instead of the ones about the people driving up to Aitkin from Elk River and Princeton to buy out our grocery store because the ones there have already been ransacked. They should hear about my mother who returned from a cruise to the Bahamas. Upon returning, she stopped at a grocery store in the Cities to pick up some food only to find two half-gallons of milk left on the shelf. My mom took one of them in case someone with small children would need the other. A woman with four half-gallons in her cart walked up to my mother and gave my mom one of hers.
I have always said that times of stress brings out who we really are, but I was referring to tough competition in relation to sports. I think it also applies here. In this time of stress and uncertainty, what type of people will be revealed? Are we going to be toilet paper hoarders, or are we the kind of people who will take care of others, especially the most vulnerable among us? Will we be kind to each other and realize we are all in this together, or will it be every man for himself? Are we willing to profit by buying out hand sanitizer and baby formula, or will we prepare for social distancing in a reasonable manner?
Our children are watching and learning from us.
