As the school year approaches, I find myself grappling with emotions I never anticipated. In the past, I would eagerly await the return of school days, looking forward to moments of peace and uninterrupted work time, free from constant requests for snacks or complaints about boredom. This year, however, everything feels different. Now, I’m filled with dread.
I often lie next to my youngest son as he drifts off to sleep, gently brushing his eyelashes and inhaling the familiar scent of his hair, trying to savor these fleeting moments when he is safe at home, healthy, and sound. Yet, random waves of anxiety wash over me—like when I’m making a simple peanut butter sandwich and suddenly feel a cold rush of fear. Just the other day, I had to pause, gripping the kitchen counter to steady myself.
I realize how dramatic this all may sound. Logically, I know that the most concerning scenario this school year might be one of my children contracting COVID. Statistically, even if they do, they are likely to recover. Sending them to school during a pandemic is not akin to sending them into battle, yet that’s how it feels.
To clarify, I have two sons. One is a fully vaccinated teenager, and the other is a fourth grader who is not yet eligible for the vaccine. Last year, we opted for remote learning, isolating ourselves for safety. It was a hard year that took a toll on my kids’ mental well-being. But given the lack of vaccinations and the ongoing pandemic, staying home felt like the right choice.
In June, after my husband, my teen, and I received our vaccinations and COVID numbers dropped, I thought it was a good idea to send the kids back to school in September. Many adults and teens in our area were vaccinated, and despite my younger son’s lack of vaccination, I felt reassured by the school district’s effective COVID protocols from the previous year, which resulted in minimal in-school transmission.
However, my outlook has drastically changed. The emergence of the Delta variant caused COVID cases in my community to surge, infecting even those who were fully vaccinated. Outbreaks at local day camps surfaced, and alarming reports began to circulate about young people and children becoming significant spreaders of the virus. My social media feeds filled with distressing images of children in hospital beds, struggling to breathe, and accounts of children succumbing to the virus. As a mother, such news is unbearable—it’s impossible not to envision my own child in such a situation.
Here I am, preparing to send my children back to school, even my unvaccinated son. I should feel grateful that my kids’ school is implementing strict safety measures, including universal masking and proper ventilation. But the Delta variant feels different; it spreads so much more easily. It’s challenging to trust that even the best precautions will prevent my kids from falling ill.
Although I understand that statistically, only a small percentage of children are hospitalized (less than 2%) and even fewer die from COVID (with a death rate of 0.00%-0.03% in kids), the reality of long-haul symptoms remains frightening. I know most children recover quickly, yet anxiety looms over me.
In six days, I will send my kids to school. My youngest has not interacted with peers in 18 months, and for now, I believe his socialization is more critical than my fears for his physical health. The protocols in place give me some comfort, and my rational side reassures me that the risk of serious consequences is low, even if he gets COVID. But when it comes to my children, logic often takes a backseat.
Thus, I find myself in a whirlwind of anxiety, fluctuating between optimism and the urge to keep my kids sheltered forever. I’m enraged at the state of our society. Yes, COVID-19 is a virus, and yes, it spreads. But with the tools we have—vaccines and masks—it feels like we could have done more to protect our children. Instead, many have resigned, allowing the virus to surge just as children are returning to school.
I am panicking, and many parents share the same fear. It didn’t have to come to this. We could have prioritized our children’s safety above all else. As we face September, parents are left anxious and bracing for the worst. It feels as though our children’s well-being is not being prioritized.