By Shari Adler
Many people prefer to avoid winter weather by migrating to a warmer climate. I have always felt so fortunate to experience the merits of all four seasons.
My infatuation extends to autumnal tones; winters of ice skating, sledding, snow sculptures and blankets of white; the springtime kaleidoscope of floral color so lush, our landscapes conjuring thoughts of Monet’s garden at Giverny; as well as summers full of barbecues, fireworks and the feel of bare feet on warm sandy beaches.
Each seasonal metamorphosis seems to beckon opportunities for new beginnings, particularly in September with the new school year, and in January with our customary need for New Year’s resolutions.
Yes, optimism thrives even in the midst of our latest virus variant — the most contagious of them all.
Keeping to tradition, I made a list of expected resolutions: be on time, pack light, be a better listener, show more empathy, reach out more to those who matter, and have greater patience with those whose political views differ from mine.
Then, for my ultimate resolution, I vowed to invigorate my fatigued persona for one which realizes that COVID seems to be here for the long haul. My perspective, which has been half dazed by danger and half fueled by lackluster energy, has just got to stop. I needed to pivot toward an acceptance that life must coexist with COVID.
Therefore, I dusted off the cobwebs of my resume to reflect my recently earned master’s degree in teaching English to speakers of other languages, otherwise known as TESOL, from Hunter College. I was determined to overcome a paralyzing inertia, inspired by the enigma of deeming in-person teaching as too risky and online teaching as too cumbersome.
I seemed to be in a virtual gridlock similar to Goldilocks and the Three Bears: I found everything to be metaphorically either too soft or too hard, but desperately needed something that was just right.
I decided to contact the people who comprise my concentric circles of trust to ask if anyone might direct me toward online opportunities for tutoring English.
Within days, I discovered two remote ESL opportunities, and began with the first. The teenage children of a former Spanish language course classmate and friend started a community service organization, called SET, SpeakEnglishTogether.org. Their mission is to connect English speakers with people in under-served Spanish-speaking communities for conversation to improve their English language skills. So far, their organization has partnered with other organizations in Guatemala and Mexico.
My friend paired me with a young woman who herself is a teacher living in Guatemala. We met virtually via WhatsApp. We had an animated conversation commingling English with Spanish. My goal was to help her learn English, and along the way, practice my Spanish, too.
I was thrilled by the novelty of a dual-lingual code-switching chat with someone on another continent, just because COVID has normalized the concept of the virtual exchange.
I spoke with Maria, her pseudonym. In the midst of an otherwise dour existence, we shared a palpably cheerful dialogue (thus initiating the spontaneity of our first lesson: cheer versus chair). It was a momentary escape from our COVID confines as we conversed, saw each other’s faces, and interpreted each other’s nonverbal cues.
I invite you to accompany me to Maria’s world in Guatemala. As a 26-year-old wife, mother to a toddler, and a teacher, she established a small neighborhood school for young children that occurs in the mornings. During the afternoons, she is employed as a tutor with a wider age-range of students, for all subjects, in an established school. Her husband cares for their daughter, since his employment with a construction company is available just two days per month. (I clarified that “month” was not an error in semantics.)
Maria has a younger sister in her early 20s. She was a salesperson in a store that sold expensive accessories, such as handbags. The store was located in a pretty hotel. She explained that when tourists were denied access to her country due to COVID, the hotel had no guests; it closed and, with it, the interior store. Her sister lost her job.
The realm of what is considered expensive is so hugely vast, I hesitated, but I had to ask Maria, “How much did those handbags cost?” She responded, “The handbags were $100. They were beautiful.”
“Oh my, I bet they were beautiful and probably locally made,” I uttered.
She agreed and explained, “One hundred dollars is what we spend on food for two weeks.” The contrast pricing of Citarella’s basic salmon at $19.99 per pound resonated in my mind.
Maria maneuvered her phone camera to show me the backdrop of her home. I saw a field of grass and trees. Since our call took place from my New York City apartment, I reciprocated by showing her the tops of several tall buildings amid an abundance of blue. I told her I live in the sky: “Vivo en el cielo.” We laughed, though I am still unsure if she deemed that to be funny or amazing, or both.
In any case, I heard myself denigrating life in New York, “Everything here is too competitive. Life here is hard. We have so many people. Our city is too crowded. During the virus, living in such crowded conditions has been incredibly scary.”
The reality was that I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, since my life is infinitely more fortunate than hers just by virtue of the disparate circumstances of our birth and time.
Still, I promised Maria I would help her improve her English. I mentioned my TESOL training, and asked her what she would like to learn first. She became incredulous at her luck, since she knows I am a volunteer. Ironically, as she forges forward, her desire is to study the past tense.
Meanwhile, Maria and I both escaped the doldrums of pandemic life. Embracing the phrase “the new normal,” for a co-existence with COVID, has already shown its merits. At least, finally, we are able to advance with basic protections such as vaccines, boosters, masks and tests, as well as remote connections whenever and wherever they make sense.
The truth is that if we search for a silver lining, we can usually find one. In this case, an old friend, sustainable virtual meetings, as well as a New Year’s resolution, has connected me with Maria.
Thank goodness being on time has taken a back seat to helping others. Clocks are overrated, anyway, I must say.
Shari Adler is a resident of New York City and Southampton.
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