Grateful

By Tiffany Page Carter, Plano, Texas, U.S.

I walked out of my evening class at University of Texas, Dallas, in March and remember glancing down at a long, empty hallway, knowing somehow that we wouldn't be back. I didn't realize though that the world would later feel like some sort of a post-apocalyptic empty ghost town (okay, perhaps a slight over-dramatization, but I know this cued the tumbleweeds in your mind). I didn't realize that wearing a mask, reminding people that of course, Black Lives Matter, and staying at home would soon become such a large part of an already-fraught political landscape; that massive deaths that would occur globally; or that people would start referring to my husband as an "essential worker.”

I worried about the fact that his workplace wouldn't provide him with masks or gloves, and wondering if my Lysoling his shoes and directing him to shower immediately upon returning home was enough. We stopped leaving the house, in part because our 12-year-old ( who has severe autism) wasn't able to wear a mask, and because I worried that we (including our seven-year-old youngest son) had been exposed somehow from my husband's lack of protection– I didn't want us to get other people sick.

As the weeks ran on, we quickly ran out of Clorox wipes and Lysol, and I grew tired of managing online homeschool for our children, working from home, and attending full-time classes, all from our little apartment. Thank God for understanding professors, yet I was still overwhelmed, burnt-out, and gaining weight, right along with the rest of the world. My summer plans to study abroad for a month in Paris were cancelled, which sounds a bit pretentious. However, as a 37-year-old first generation college student, the trip was fully-covered via scholarships and had become a dream opportunity that would never come again.

Despite this, our family persisted and readjusted. I spent the summer volunteering to do social media for a student-led nonprofit that was delivering hot meals to essential health care workers (Cooked-19), and I applied for a really amazing year-long fellowship that promised to make its recipient into a nonprofit leader.

A few of my closely related family members got sick with the virus, which made me feel vulnerable and afraid, but thankfully they're young and recovered– luckier than many. My grandmother's home was essentially destroyed by Hurricane Laura and damaged further by Delta. We started a GoFundMe for her, because she didn't have home insurance (many can't even come close to affording it in her area, given how often they get hit there), and through the love, kindness, and compassion of friends and extended family, we helped to raise over $2,000 to help her.

It's October now. I got that amazing fellowship, both of our boys are able to wear masks now, and my husband isn't an essential worker anymore. I haven't written a novel, started a business, or performed some great feat for humanity, but I'm alive. My entire family is ALIVE, even both of my elderly grandmothers. So, I might not be at my greatest, but I'm grateful, and I can't ask for more than that.