10. Juggling

It’s been a while…

In March 2019, I attended a conference where I was first introduced to juggling. I knew what juggling was, but I never attempted it until that point. Everyone who participated was given a tennis ball. The initial steps were simple: toss a ball from one hand to the other. We were then given a second tennis ball. This is where things got tricky. In a constant scooping motion, we’d toss the first ball into the air from one hand, followed by the second ball from the other hand. Then, we’d catch them and repeat this until we were comfortable. It didn’t take long for me to grasp the gist of juggling two items. But I knew I wanted to master this element before moving onto the third. So I bought a set of tennis balls and intended to practice until I got it down. It’s been quite a long year since that plan was set in motion.

The past few months have been difficult, to say the least. With the rampant growth of COVID-19, the lives of everyone around the world have drastically changed. The last time I physically saw my students and classrooms was shortly before the start of Spring Break in March. For many of us, it was one of the final moments we shared physical proximity with friends, lovers, and loved ones without much worry outside of our typical concerns. Since then, days have melded into themselves, schedules are harder to maintain (for some, maybe that’s for the best), Zoom became a lifeline (and stressor) for many, and the majority of us have been forcibly woken up from the dream of certainty. Along with the virus came a wave of invisible attacks. Many, myself included, are still waging battles with quarantined-hustle culture, deteriorating mental wellness, emotional exhaustion, screen fatigue, a collective grieving of near unprecedented magnitude, and those who flat-out refuse to follow social distancing measures.

There are countless think pieces highlighting the worldwide grief that many of us are experiencing. I don’t have much to add to the already insightful and comforting write-ups. Instead, I’m in the midst of processing my own mourning. I’m slowly working through the sadness and discouragement. Most of the time it feels like a melancholy response to everything. Other times, I have to sit with some unpleasant thoughts that made themselves very comfortable tenants in my mind.

But this has been the defining moment where I’ve asked myself, “did anything I teach prepare
them for something like this?”

Prior to COVID’s rampage, I found myself perusing countless Instagram profiles for hours at a time. The result of my scrolling was comparing myself to artists that spend more time at their drawing tables than I do and men who have better bodies, more strength, and more social currency (i.e. likes, comments, followers, etc.) than me. Comparing and, ultimately, discouraging myself both artistically and physically was detrimental to my well-being. I was miserable for a long time. Though, in this misery, I was reminded of words I kept buried in my mind for times like these — “after a while, you’ll get sick and tired of being sick and tired”. So I minimized my social media presence as an act of discipline and an act of self-preservation. After my self-imposed hiatus, I’m happy to say the comparisons dwindled as I focused on healthy sources of validation, support, and, most importantly, encouragement. Ironically, social distancing led me back to social media due to missing my friends. The comparison trolls started popping up here and there, but it’s been manageable. Like juggling, the first tennis ball is the easiest to work with. It’s when you get to the second tennis ball that things ramp up.

Teaching online isn’t foreign to me, but it’s a difficult terrain to travel without true human interaction. I have my turtle moments where I prefer being in my shell and in the comfort of my own space (on a side note, I really love turtles). But, as the weeks keep going, I’m getting more and more disgruntled. Simply put, I miss my students. I’m also disheartened because many of the students that were in my very first classes graduated this month. All of us were looking forward to celebrating their achievements in tried and true fashion. With caps, gowns, photos, family, and tons of smiles. But like many, we couldn’t fully realize our intentions. My heart aches for them, especially as they enter into a world with a hard-to-define workforce and life ahead of them. I’ve questioned my educational approach many times before. But this has been the defining moment where I’ve asked myself, “did anything I teach prepare them for something like this?”

You’re always exhausted and it seems like you can never get enough rest.

The thought followed me into my Summer semester. Unsurprisingly, new questions emerged— What do I prepare them for? How do I answer their concerns about job placement when millions are unemployed? Do I equip them to navigate the world, help build a new one, or both? Maybe this is the moment where I pivot and do what I’ve reallywanted to do—cultivate artists and designers instead of more cogs for a machine. I’m not sure right now. So far, I’ve been able to manage these feelings. But along with the future comes fear looming over it. There are talks across the country ranging from hybrid and fully online instruction to resuming operations as normal (whatever “normal” meant pre-pandemic). I think I need to accept that there is no “right” solution. Every option comes with collateral damage. Though, some solutions have higher risks than others. If schools were to reopen, what would happen if a student or faculty member succumbs to COVID? Is that a risk worth taking? Personally, I don’t think so. With the reality of the pandemic, the never-ending concern of school shootings, and worrying about my students’ well-being, I’ll need to really be mindful of my mental wellness in the coming months. Now I see why that second tennis ball is a doozy.

Finally, those remaining tenants include possible furloughs, energy deprivation, and that damn hustle culture. It’s safe to assume that higher-ed schools nationwide will see a drop in returning students for the Fall semester. This worries me, as low enrollment eventually leads to budget cuts and department closures. Job loss is always a possibility in any industry. But it becomes much more apparent when 30 million people applied for unemployment in a matter of 2 months. On the flip side, the hustle culture train hasn’t lost that much steam. I can paraphrase their new tagline as “learn quaran-skills during quarantine!” The premise of “time is wasted if you aren’t improving yourself during quarantine” is extremely dismissive and insensitive. I know this from being a former hustle culture citizen. The grind is glorified while rest is vilified. Our down time should be used towards one of our many side hustles. Self-improvement is always more important than self-care. Truthfully, it’s exhausting. At one end of the spectrum is the possibility of unemployment. On the other end is “Rise’n’Grind-ville” where the Sun is always shining and productivity never takes a day off. Smack dab in the middle of this seesaw is a place I’ve grown all too familiar with that comes with its own problems—fatigue.

Through the life around me, I was reminded of the life within me.

No one likes to feel completely drained. Yet, without my previous schedule (which was filled to the brim with too many to-do lists), I feel like the biggest bump on the log. I’ve been in tune with my body for the majority of my life due to some sort of physical activity. Martial arts, basketball, lifting weights, stretching, and dancing have always played some sort of role in my life (the latter two being my favorites). Being active keeps my thoughts and emotions in check. But I haven’t done any of these things lately. Well, I tried doing morning stretches and meditation, but I drifted into checking my emails instead of checking my pulse. I made some DIY weights and they turned out awesome. Though, I haven’t been consistent. This is the internal dialogue I constantly deal with—I’m worn down from working and taking each day at a time, but I don’t feel I’m doing enough to nurture my wellness. This is one of the down sides of being in “Tired Town”. You’re always exhausted and it seems like you can never get enough rest. Juggling two things, in its own right, is a lot of work. Adding a third one?! Well…

One day, I was out on my back porch exercising with my DIY weights. I also brought my tennis balls with me. I was craving sunlight and the Southern air. There was a nice breeze that made the day cooler. During my break between sets, I sat in my folding chair and slowly looked around. I started to notice the life that was teeming around me. Tree branches were swaying eastward while ants were exploring the ground. Birds glided by while a dragonfly darted away as quickly as it visited me. The cotton-like puffs of clouds drifted in the sky. Through the life around me, I was reminded of the life within me. So I grabbed two tennis balls and started juggling. Then I built up the courage to try something. I grabbed the third tennis ball and dropped it a few times. I can’t describe how fun and liberating it felt to drop one then start over. I laughed, I smiled, I screamed, and felt joy the entire time. Then, I did it. I did it! I juggled all three tennis balls at once! It just…happened! After I caught the third ball, I started to cry. I was so overwhelmed with emotion! It was such a major victory for me. It felt so good to learn something new and accomplish a goal I set for myself. Also, I started to remember how to be in tune with my body! So I built up the courage to try things I used to do, like cartwheels and light Capoeira movement. After a few tries, I was back in action!

I was reminded of so many things during those moments. I recalled the pure excitement for life that I had throughout my teenage years. My growing body swarming with energy and being fascinated with the world as much as it’s fascinated with itself. I was also called back to a certain feeling. A knot in my stomach that forms when my curiosity and determination break bread with one another. Most importantly, I remembered that I can still do things that I put my mind too and that it’s okay to fall. It was, surprisingly, fun! I think it’s because I knew that something inside me would say, “get back up”. The world is changing faster than most of us can keep up with. Additionally, we’re juggling more and more every day. But I learned valuable lessons on that brisk afternoon: 1. Only juggle as much as you can handle; 2. Whatever falls to the ground will be there when you’re ready for it; and 3. Even when it all falls down, just keep trying.

—Juggling