It all started so suddenly. I don’t think any of us could have ever expected or prepared for this. Day by day, the measures imposed by our government have gradually restricted our individual freedoms in an effort to ensure public safety. I never could have imagined going through a situation like this. On my way to work every morning, and when I leave work and get home, I feel like I’m in a horror movie where feelings of fear, anger, and sadness collide on a daily basis.
My partner and I are both “essential workers.” When we made the decision to entrust our children to family to ensure their safety and happiness, I thought deeply about the people of the past—those who lived through war. The overwhelming feeling of having to keep my little ones safe while I, the warrior, have to head to the front lines every day and carry on as if none of this were happening. This situation makes me very emotional, and anxiety is eating away at me. My son asks me, “When are you coming to see us, Mom?” and my daughter says, “Mom, I want to come home!” Tears well up in my eyes and roll gently down my cheeks. We have to reassure them, tell them that everything will be all right, that they’re safe there and need to stay there for their own safety. So that things can continue to go well.
When I watch the news, where there’s so much talk about healthcare workers and how they’re being supported and encouraged to keep up the fight, I get the sad feeling that we—healthcare AND SOCIAL SERVICES workers—are being somewhat neglected or forgotten. I think of my fellow educators who have to deal with young people who are just as unsettled by the situation in their daily lives. A daily routine that has been reinvented, reorganized, and planned to maintain a semblance of normal life—a framework that is so important and reassuring for these children. I’m thinking of the intervention workers who are there to support our teams of educators and help our young people try to cope better. I’m thinking of our maintenance staff who work behind the scenes but are so crucial to limiting the risk of transmission. I’m thinking of my fellow social workers, regardless of their job titles. We must continue our interventions and visits in communities that are already fundamentally vulnerable.
I’m thinking of our children confined to their homes, who, in the world before this, could afford to let their guard down, having the opportunity to be around several adults who were attuned to what they might be going through. They had what we call in our jargon “a safety net.” I’m thinking of those vulnerable families who were already living in difficult and precarious situations. The current situation can only increase their stress, tensions, and anxieties. In short, I think of all of us who, above all else, would like to find the right words or make the right gesture so that all of this ends quickly and becomes a thing of the past. Whether we’re in quarantine or at work, I believe we’re all guardian angels. Our actions and words today will shape what tomorrow brings and fuel our hope for a better world!