On Being Non-Essential: It Doesn’t Mean You’re Not Important

By Jennifer Wagner

“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”

I’ve always appreciated that Douglas Adams quote — and I’m drawn to it more than ever in these strange pandemic times.

Deadlines are boundaries. Deadlines give us structure. We need deadlines, even if they whoosh by. Especially as they whoosh by. They keep us in check.

But right now, it feels like there are no deadlines. At least not for me. That’s because at this moment, my work is non-essential.

Don’t get me wrong: The COVID-19 crisis is having a huge effect on K-12 education. Parents are suddenly teaching; teachers are wondering what happens if and when they go back to the classroom. State budgets are taking a hit, unemployment is skyrocketing and state legislatures are closed down. The federal government passed a massive relief effort that includes schools and families, but no one fully understands what that means yet or how those funds will be distributed.

I would venture to guess the last thing families are worried about right now is whether their kid is in the right school because they’re probably not in school at all.

We promote school choice, but here’s the rub: no one chose this. We’re all just figuring out how to get through it.

That doesn’t mean we’re not doing our jobs. It doesn’t mean we’re not still committed to our core mission of advancing educational opportunity for all K-12 students. We are still researching, still communicating, still advocating.

But none of those things are essential right now. There’s bigger stuff happening out there, and we’re not part of it.

That can feel heavy for a few reasons.

As humans, we want to be useful. We see first responders and health care providers and others who are critically essential right now, and most of us can’t do any of those things.

The only thing we can do — and have been repeatedly asked to do — is stay home and bide our time.

We only need to look at other countries around the world and their varied responses to this virus to know that staying home and doing nothing is 100 percent the right course. But we don’t know how long we will be sheltered in place or what will happen when we finally are allowed to interact with each other again.

I was chatting with my therapist recently about chronic stress, which is the response to emotional pressure suffered for a prolonged period of time where an individual perceives they have little or no control. My conversation wasn’t about COVID-19, but it might as well have been.

He came up with a solid metaphor that I’m going to steal and repeat here: Think about an app on your phone that asks you whether you’re fine with it running in the background. Sure, you say. And then you think nothing of it. The app goes on its merry way transmitting your location and other data points, listening in on your life to find out whether it should push you ads for fast food places in New Mexico or clothing stores in Connecticut.

Regardless of whether you want that information, it’s slowly draining your battery.

Right now, the app is COVID-19. It’s just there, constantly humming away in the background, sapping our power. And there’s no way to adjust our settings.

Finally, there is fear.

We feel useless. Our lives are stuck on repeat with no hard stop. And if we selfishly decide to break out of that cycle, we place ourselves, our loved ones and our communities at risk.

It’s terrifying to watch footage from places like New York City that were seemingly fine just a few weeks ago. Doctors and nurses are posting soul-shattering stories about their experiences treating COVID-19 patients. I am afraid that even if I do everything right, I’m going to put someone in harm’s way.

So, what can we do?

Understand that our non-essential-ness does not mean we are not doing important things. We can highlight what others are doing to get through this, and we can help each other actually get through this. Donate money or supplies to those in need. Sew masks if you are able. Connect your kids virtually. Deliver groceries to family and friends who are at the highest risk. Help those who have lost their jobs find work or navigate the unemployment system. Practice non-random acts of kindness.

The time will come again for robust debates about teacher pay and standardized testing and racial equity. Idealogues on both sides will hurl anti-union or anti-privatization rhetoric. Families will continue to seek K-12 options for their children. Perhaps this crisis will lead to educational reform and innovation the likes of which we never could have imagined before the world shut down.

We’re just not there right now. And that’s okay.

Jennifer Wagner is a mom, a recovering political hack and the Vice President of Communications for EdChoice, a national nonprofit that supports and promotes universal school choice.