America the exceptional
The What Now Chronicles — 1
In 4 minutes I go back to school.
Not the creative writing MFA program I dream about but the elementary school my 8 and 5-year-old are in.
Older kid wouldn’t let his backpack or lunch be in the car.
Fine.
At least he was in the car. This going-to-school thing has been a rough road. Made harder by a global pandemic.
Made harder today by gunshots in the neighbourhood so when we arrived the school was in a soft lockdown. Cool.
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The deals we made with ourselves when we moved here. Here being America. The exceptional deals that were negotiated. And now, ten years, maybe 11 years into this experiment, here we are. When I can tell my five-year-old that they aren’t ready for us yet. That they aren’t ready because the doors are locked and I can’t figure out if I am grateful that we were 5 minutes late or annoyed that we weren’t five minutes early and already inside.
Maybe I am desensitized because we, drive up-dropoff parents all just stayed. waiting for the police to walk the area and clear it. my pulse barely changed pace. These deals we made that massacres in schools are just, normal.
Our school is not where I would picture an active shooter but the area around the school is prone to more community violence. So then what deals am I making. These deals we made that shootings near schools are just, normal.
The kids that live in that area might already know what gunshots sound like. And today I was able to say to my five year old they aren’t ready for us. You see, she doesn’t know. It hasn't occurred to her that people really shoot at each other. Her first active shooter drill is still in the future.
She checked with me last week — are prisons real? The deals we make to live in this exceptional place. yes, baby, they are, but it's complicated. because how do you explain that some people don’t have choices the way others do and how do you explain those entire systems that exist to help some and hurt others. When I can still get away with telling her that they aren’t ready for us.
You see, five-year-olds have a deep sense of ‘fair’ and none of this is.
