Opinion |

Three years post-lockdown, long COVID takes on new meaning

On March 13, 2020, our lives changed in inestimable ways. It was the day President Donald Trump declared a national emergency concerning the coronavirus disease outbreak. A week later, California Gov. Gavin Newsom ordered a lockdown, the first mandatory restrictions in the U.S. Our state’s 40 million residents were told to stay home to stop the spread. At the time, Newsom said, “Home isolation is not my preferred choice, but it is a necessary one. This is a moment in time.”  

It was a long moment.

Three years since Trump’s declaration, we are still debating the origins of the pandemic. Two federal agencies recently declared that COVID-19 most likely began with an accidental laboratory leak in China. Other agencies continue to believe it was due to natural transmission from animals to humans. Given continued obstruction by the Chinese government, we will likely never know for sure.

But there’s no debating COVID’s impact, in terms of lives lost and economic fallout.

As of Feb. 27, 2023, there have been 1.1 million deaths related to the disease in our country, according to statista.com. There have been 100,816 deaths in California, more than any other state (although the death rate here was among the lowest in the nation).

As reported by the Center on Budget Policy and Priorities, the economic consequences have been widespread but remain particularly prevalent among people of color. These disproportionate impacts reflect long-standing inequities — in matters like employment and health care — that the pandemic only exacerbated. Households with children also continue to face especially high rates of economic hardship, according to CBPP.

From appearances though, our lives are back to normal. We gather, shoulder to shoulder, in rooms filled with hundreds or thousands of people. Few are masked.

If the visual reminders of the pandemic have all but disappeared, we don’t have to look too hard to see that our country is suffering in a different way, with heightened levels of impatience, inhumanity and incivility. It’s another type of long COVID — not associated with physical symptoms, such as fatigue, shortness of breath and loss of smell — but perhaps more insidious and widespread.

Just one example: Last year, airlines reported 2,359 “unruly passenger” incidents to the Federal Aviation Administration; 823 were so severe they triggered investigations. On Sunday, a man on a United Airlines flight tried to open the plane’s emergency door and stab a flight attendant.

But it seems COVID’s lingering effects are being felt hardest in our schools, by students, teachers, staff and administrators.

Readers of this column know that I frequently write about schools. They are a microcosm of our society — and a growing part of the work we do at the National Conflict Resolution Center. Today, we are serving nine San Diego County school districts, in partnership with the San Diego County Office of Education.

Students across the county are struggling still, even as the school year nears its end. Problems that existed before the pandemic have been magnified and behavior has suffered. No wonder: It’s been estimated that the pandemic cost students two years of social-emotional learning, on average. SEL is essential for managing emotions, problem-solving and building relationships.

Think about what a two-year deficit means for a rising fifth-grader who will enter middle school this fall.

SEL losses have led to more classroom disruptions, rowdiness on school campuses and tardiness. Other consequences of the pandemic have included greater student and teacher absenteeism, academic setbacks and a heightened need for mental health services. Taken together, it’s an enormous toll and one that’s causing educators to wonder if Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis got it right.

In November 2020, DeSantis declared that Florida schools would be required to remain open despite a rise in COVID-19 cases and hospitalizations. At a press conference, DeSantis said, “Closing schools due to coronavirus is probably the biggest public health blunder in modern American history.”

Rather than second-guessing decisions made, now is the time to reimagine our school systems to ensure the best possible outcomes for students. In our work with the county office of education, we are guiding a shift toward restorative practices (and away from a punitive paradigm) to build positive, affirming relationships in the school community, in a way that supports students, teachers, staff and administrators. We are building skills that empower students to stand up when they face microaggressions and bullying.

Structural change like this takes time. But to eradicate long COVID, we must first restore humanity in our schools. It’s an investment in our future that can’t wait.

A Path Forward will return on April 2.

Dinkin is president of the National Conflict Resolution Center, a San Diego-based group working to create solutions to challenging issues, including intolerance and incivility. To learn about NCRC’s programming, visit ncrconline.com