Tag Archives: worry

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Should I stay, or should I go? This is the question that’s been haunting me the past couple of months. It’s the question on all of our minds at the moment, and I’m sorry to say, I don’t yet have the answer. In a non-Covid world, the answer is simple. I’d go. In a heartbeat. No questions asked. Not even a question, in fact. But in a Covid world, with so much uncertainty, it becomes much more complicated to decide. What’s the best thing to do? What’s the safest? What’s in my best interest?

The question on my mind, as an international school educator, is whether or not to go back home this summer to see my family. I always go home (well, there was that one year I traveled Europe instead) for the summer, where I spend time with my family and see my friends I haven’t seen in a while and drive all around the great state of Texas to visit far-flung relatives and eat my favorite foods (in Austin, mostly) and shop for all the things I always buy in America (here’s looking at you, tampons with applicators, Mexican spices, deodorant, toothpaste, makeup, all the books, and much more).

I mean, I didn’t get see them at Christmas (another one of those trips I almost always make), which means if I don’t go home, it’ll have been a year without seeing them except for through a screen. And then there’s the new baby who’s due in May, a new niece that I can’t wait to hold and cuddle and love on. If I don’t go home, she’ll be more than 6 months old the first time I meet her. Also, I could use some family time, what with a worldwide pandemic causing all kinds of stress and undue worry and anxiety that we’re all dealing with.

But with Covid and all the stress and risk that comes with it, do I dare? Going home means leaving my safe bubble on Jeju (where the cases are really low…like ridiculously low…as in about 500 total cases since the pandemic started and only one death) and going to America, where the cases are crazy high and the death count is astronomical. Not to mention the actual travel there, with long haul flights, crammed in a small space with lots of people and germs galore. And then there’s the Covid tests, the ones that have given me anxiety ever since the last one I had in Seoul during quarantine, where I screamed and cried for a long time after. I’ll do anything to avoid that again. It’s not just one test either, it’s five at minimum. I shudder at the thought. Quarantine, while now only when I return to Korea (since Texas has lifted all restrictions), is still not something I’m excited about. Frankly, I had enough of that in 2020.

The biggest fear I have though is if I actually get Covid. Apart from the obvious fear of contracting a horrendous respiratory illness that could kill me, I’m worried that contracting the virus might mean I lose my job. I love my job and my life in Jeju, and I don’t want to give that up, but the reality is that if I were to get Covid in the states, I could very well lose my job (legitimately- I’ve checked) if I were not able to quickly recover and return back to work. Is that a risk I’m willing to take? Does choosing not to go home for fear of catching Covid and possibly losing my job mean I love my family any less? Does it make me selfish? Am I overreacting?

What’s the right decision? I feel like I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t. I thought that writing about it would make the decision clear, that processing the pros and cons would somehow show me what to do, but it hasn’t. Does anyone have any advice?

Today’s Been Tough…

Today’s been especially tough.

Even as I write this, the screen is blurry, as my eyes brim with tears. Maybe it’s the isolation. Maybe it’s the extremely long hours. Maybe it’s the feeling that no matter how hard I work, I can’t seem to feel like it’s enough. Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m constantly letting my students and staff down when I can’t get back to them quickly enough. Maybe it’s because this virus thing is really real to me now. Maybe it’s because I’m sleep deprived. Whatever the reason is, I’ve come to a breaking point.

Last night I worked until past 11:00pm (again), and when my alarm went off this morning, I dragged myself out of bed, knowing that I had people depending on me to release today’s lesson information and videos. After way too many cups of English breakfast tea, I started to get into a groove, but sadly, that was short-lived.

Mid-morning I had a meeting with two other members of the leadership team about how we can better support our struggling students, and for some reason during that meeting, I started panicking about the PYP Exhibition. The high standards I put onto myself, coupled with the (perceived?) expectations of the community, had me worried. How will my students complete their work in time? What about the ones who need more support who are at home fending for themselves? What about the ones with no Internet access? How in the heck will we collaborate on a shared presentation piece as a class when we are all in isolation and learning online? Voicing my fears helped actually, and I was able to move forward with the day, supporting my students through meetings and text conversations.

But this afternoon, while I was on a video conference with a student, one of my teachers called me. I answered, worried that something had happened. He asked what today’s staff briefing would be about. I assured him it would be mostly routine things, but he hesitated, mumbling something about some news his wife mentioned, but he didn’t say much else. I told him I was busy with a student but that I’d get back to him as soon as I could.

I finished the call with the student and clicked on a few chat notifications to catch up on what I’d missed. In our leadership team chat, someone had posted a link to an article with the announcement that Indonesia had had its first Coronavirus-related death today. As I read the announcement, my heart stopped. The gender and age were the same as our teacher who tested positive for the virus a couple of days ago and who is in hospital in isolation. That, along with the fact that the article stated it was a foreign-national, made me fear the worst. With my heart in my stomach, my hands shaking uncontrollably, I typed, “Please tell me this isn’t our teacher!”

With bated breath, I waited for the reply. A simple “no” came back with no explanation. Shortly after that, we received confirmation that someone had spoken with them on the phone. Relieved that they were still alive and doing okay, I still couldn’t shake the fear that gripped me. What if it had been them? What would I/we do? What does this mean for our community and the wider community? I don’t have answers, but I will say that while I wasn’t afraid before, I am today.

Today’s been especially tough.

Sleepless Nights- SOL #6


Sleepless Nights

can’t shut it off
the endless loop
the record skipping
the song on repeat
tossing and
trying to find
that one comfortable spot
maybe then
I can sleep

watching the clock
counting the hours of
sleep I’ll get
if I can just
sleep now
the bags
under my eyes
reveal the truth

can I sleep tonight?
can I shut if off
long enough
to fully rest?
will the worry
cease to invade
my mind?
I hope so
I really, really
hope so