Teen life sidelined by social distancing

For weeks now, I’ve grown accustomed to a combination of sounds. First, it’s soft, almost hesitant notes on the piano, picking out the beginnings of a tune. Then, in an increasingly confident clear, high voice, the words follow, the start of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s setting of "Pie Jesu." My oldest daughter has been practicing this song for her high school choir’s upcoming solo and ensemble performance.

She’s poured hours of her life into this song, into perfecting it, looking forward to having her loved ones come to listen to the hard work of her and her friends. Everything was nearly ready, nearly in place for this concert when life shut down, almost overnight, because of the coronavirus outbreak. And this shutdown of a normal part of high school has broken my heart for her in no small part.

My high school years were filled with academics and learning, but largely it was a social life. Those years were filled with hours and days spent figuring out the dynamics of interpersonal relationships. This isn’t uncommon, either, and is such a perennial theme that whole movie and novel genres exist solely around the coming of age theme—because until now this has been a pretty universal experience. We went to school. Our kids went to school, or homeschooled, but still socialized with other high schoolers.

Until now.

It’s all on hold. Everything is different. And we don’t exactly know when the end of this social distancing and school closures will come.

My oldest daughter is turning 16 in two weeks. This should be a year filled with friends, choir concerts, clubs, and parties. Instead, it’s filled with a global pandemic and our family’s struggle—to balance normalization and respecting public health mandates and important health advice.

So quickly this has morphed from a situation that felt distant and impersonal to something that has very much affected everyone’s lives. With our sincere hope now pinned on helping reduce the strain on our over-burdened medical system—and to hopefully help keep vulnerable people and our medical providers safer.

Teenagers aren’t young enough or disconnected from all of this to hide the news from them like smaller children. I can’t brush this off with simple explanations about illnesses and protecting people. She’s old enough to read the news. To watch videos. To talk to friends and hear from them what they’re watching and hearing.

So what does it mean to be maturing during this historic pandemic? What does this mean for all of our teens, who should be out and about and instead are home?

Listening to her feedback on this, days are long. This feels like an eternity already. Time is really weird for teenagers, I believe—anyone who has asked a teen to do something knows that they can have their own schedule. It’s becoming clear, though, that the uncertainty of when normal life resumes is concerning for her and others her age.

This is a high school experience that will be so unique to this generation. 2020 is the year we all shut down, that schools and borders, businesses and public spaces all closed down. They will be old enough that this will be a clear and coherent memory. And that memory will be shaped so much by how individual families are handling this.

We are, in my home, sticking to the “prepare don’t panic” mantra that came out in the initial days of the coronavirus crisis. Also a household staple is that we all rise together, meaning that people can lift each other up, and this is an opportunity to do so. And these are the lessons I hope that my teen is internalizing, and from her initial reports seems to be.

I can’t offer her parties, concerts, or sleepovers. Instead, this is shaping up to be full of different kinds of connections. Maybe that will be ok, or even superior. I don’t know, but I can do my best. We’re allowing social media, interactive games, ways to reach out and feel heard. She’s having more time with her parents than she’s had in any recent months, something her feelings seem to shift on, moment to moment. She’s also having far more time with her siblings, encouraging her to find ways to connect with them.

It’s also giving her almost limitless time to read, to create art, to walk our corgi. To listen to music and discover new bands. To watch shows in the evening with her father, without worrying about being too tired in the morning for classes. I think she has more freedom to spend her hours how she wants than she’s ever had, something that I hope she remembers with fondness in retrospect.

This might not be a social high school semester, but it’s a creative one. One filled with time to explore interests, to find herself and her ideas without direct peer influence on her every moment. I hope that her lasting feeling and lesson from this is flexibility, resilience, and hope.