1/ One day last spring, I had to go to a parent-teacher conference. I was flying on one wing. Physically, emotionally, and cognitively exhausted from trying to help one of my sons navigate this wonky, socially isolated, hybrid version of school.
It was not going so well.
2/ Combined with the heavy lift of work and an ongoing blanket of racial battle fatigue, I was on fumes. I limped into the meeting like a battered animal. I knew it would take everything in me not to weep through the entire thing.
Whew.
I said a tiny prayer and entered.
3/ When the teacher joined the call, she started with a few pleasantries. I clenched my jaw and prepared for the first punch to the jaw.
It never came. Her eyes softened.
Her: "How are YOU doing, Dr. Manning?"
Me: "Me? Um, okay I guess."
She nodded and smiled.
4/ Next we talked about my son and his school performance. I listened intently and vowed to do all the things to support him. But then she stopped me mid-sentence.
Her: "Dr. Manning? Listen. This is a hard time for all of us. Not just him but all of us."
Me: *listening*
5/ Her: "I've known your son since 6th grade. He's a great kid. And you know? I think we are all just trying to do our pandemic best."
My mouth hinged open to speak but I froze from the mounting emotion. She went on.
Her: "He's a great kid."
She emphasized the word "great."
6/ Her: "I recognize that none of us have ever done school in a pandemic. So we all need a little grace, you know?"
Me: *tiny whisper* "Yeah."
Her: "You are here in this meeting. And your son knows he is loved. That's a good thing, Dr. Manning."
Emphasis on "good" this time.
7/ Her: "It took some time for me to realize that pandemic best may be all we have right now. And to hold anyone to something other than that just isn't fair."
I paused and swirled those words around in my head for a moment.
Me: "Wow. That is so true, sis."
8/ Her: "And that's ALL of us, you know? But we have to stand in the gap and remind each other of who we are. And who our kids are."
Now I was full on crying. An exhausted, relieved, and grateful cry. She waited patiently in silence.
Me: "I'm sorry."
Her: "It's okay."
9/ We finished up and that was pretty much it.
Yup.
I felt better after the meeting. Which was surprising considering how much I'd dreaded it. But I'm sharing this because that exchange with my son's teacher proved to be a pivotal moment for me.
Truly.
10/ Her gentle, gracious words shifted the way I saw not only my son, but myself and those around me in this time. My patients, my partner, my parents, and my peers, too.
I love this concept of a "pandemic best."
11/ I've stuck those words on a post-it note in my heart for safekeeping:
"It took some time for me to realize that pandemic best may be all we have right now. And to hold you to something other than that just isn't fair."
Today, I am sharing these words with you, too.
12/ Last:
That teacher had a choice that day. And she chose kind. I am so, so grateful she did.
May we all strive for excellence--but extend and receive the grace needed when all there is to give is a pandemic best.
1/ I recall walking into the hospital to round the day after 9/11. Though everything seemed normal, it was anything but.
I pulled down a chart box and attempted to look through a chart. Then I looked up and saw my colleague walking toward me.
The one from New York.
2/ She walked up and I just hugged her. Tight without speaking at first.
Her: “It is all like a bad dream.”
Me: “I know.”
*silence*
Me: “Um. . .”
Her: “I spoke to everyone. They are OK. We are fortunate. But I know people who are still waiting.
I nodded in quiet deference.
3/ Since we didn’t know what else to do, we hugged again. This time tighter and more knowing. The way you cling to someone at a good-bye or uncertain future.
When we pulled back, she was looking skyward and patting her eyes with the heels of her hands.
You: "People say I'm a Grady miracle after I survived that accident."
Me: *listening*
You: "But I just tell 'em God had more for me to do, know what I'm saying?"
Me: *nodding* "Yeah. I think I do."
*silence*
You: "Shit, I need to be on a Grady billboard!"
2/ Me: "I know that's right!"
You: "Go on and holler at the billboard folk for me."
*laughter*
Me: "It is quite a survival story."
You: "Damn right! They just KNEW I was gon' die. But real talk, them trauma doctors at Grady? They ain't no joke!"
Me: "That's what's up."
3/ You: "I had a bunch of stuff after that accident. But they went hard for me. The doctors. The nurses. The therapists--all of 'em. I had a trach in my neck, a colostomy, and had to learn how to walk all over again."
Me: "Wow."
You: "A Grady miracle. I told you."
For any event, panel, meeting, or conference you're planning, I'm asking that you specifically task someone with looking at all of your materials to confirm that you are consistent with titles.
Here's why:
2/ It's not unusual to see a flyer that offers a full title for say, a non-minority male person beside a truncated/wrong one for say, a Black woman. Or a title with all honorifics for one person but something more ambiguous for the other.
Do I think it's malicious? Nah.
But.
3/ It's too common. And it's not super affirming when you've worked really hard to get where you are against a lot of built-in obstacles.
So. I'm asking everyone who is over planning anything to start checking. I'm imploring you to assign someone the task of making sure.
2/ Her: "You know I had #COVID back in April of '20 when everybody was getting it."
Me: "Oh wow. Did you get pretty sick?"
Her: "Sick enough to be in my bed for a few days. But mostly it was just inconvenient for everybody that live with me, you know?"
Me: *listening*
3/ Her: "Folk don't talk enough about that part. The way she bust a groove in all your plans even if you don't get real sick."
Me: "Yeah."
*silence*
Me: "So. . . . I'm surprised after all that you weren't first in line to get vaccinated."
Her: *shrugs*
Me: "So. . .Ms. Hodge. . .uh. . . what exactly were you doing when this happened?"
Her: *smirks and does a body wave in her bed* "Getting it ON, baby."
Me: *chuckles and shakes head*
Her: "Oh, I'm serious."
*name changed
2/ Her: "People thing jest 'cause you up in age you ain't got no desires. But that ain't true, see."
Me: *nodding* "I hear you, Ms. Hodge."
Her: "You better hear me! 'Cause I be GETTING mine--even in my 80's."
She snapped her fingers and did another body wave.
*laughter*
3/ Her: "How old are you, Miss Manning?"
Me: "I turned 50 last September."
Her: "You got a lover?" *squints eyes*
Me: "Uhh. . .I guess my husband. . is uh. . my lover."
Her: *curls lips* "Well. I hope y'all be taking care of each other." *does body wave again*